Footsteps sounded from downstairs. Picking hay from her hair and popping some gum in her mouth to take care of morning breath, she hurried down to greet her man.
He was already at the tack wall, picking out a saddle and bridle. He smiled at her but didn’t say anything, so she picked some out for herself. Soon they were saddled up on their respective favorite horses—a high-strung black Arabian stallion for him and a sweet but energetic chestnut gelding for her. On a whim, she spurred her gelding to a gallop, laughing as she raced past Phillip. Never one to back down from a challenge, he was soon alongside her again, grinning as the feisty Arabian pulled ahead.
They raced as the sun rose over the hills, eventually slowing to a stop at a small cliff overlooking the distant seashore. The sun was halfway up now and its reflection shimmered over the ocean.
Phillip swung down off his horse, a strangely brooding look on his face as he gazed at the sea. Frowning, Ella dismounted and went to him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
He shook himself, looked away, cleared his throat. “Nothing,” he said.
“Not nothing,” she countered, knowing him too well to let him get away with that. Something was up. She just hoped it wasn’t anything to do with them. Things had been going so smoothly, better than she ever could’ve dreamed, and at that look on his face she suddenly had the niggling fear that it was all about to crash down somehow. “Phillip?” she asked, hating the quavering note in her voice.
His eyes darted to hers. “It’s just…” he said, seeming to search for words, then he glanced at the ocean again and his face cleared. “You know, when I was eight, I was given the chance to choose my own nanny. It was the first time I was allowed to make my own decision in some way that mattered. I thought I was mature enough not to need a nanny, so I picked one who was young and exciting and more than a little irresponsible.”
Ella snorted, relieved that whatever was on his mind apparently didn’t have anything to do with the two of them. “Of course you did.”
But he didn’t smile. “I had a great summer that year. Until I begged her to bring one of the servant’s sons along with us for a day at the beach. I was bored, and I wanted a playmate. I didn’t realize until too late that he didn’t know how to swim.”
Ella’s heart went heavy. “Oh, Phillip,” she said, sensing where this story was going.
He nodded confirmation. “The nanny was sun-bathing and I was getting something from the picnic basket when he wandered too far and drowned. It was afterward that I realized it was my fault. I hadn’t taken my duties seriously, I’d made my decision about the nanny based on my own whims instead of what was truly best for everyone involved, and that boy died for it.”
She took his hand and twined her fingers through his. “I’m so sorry. That sounds awful. But I hate that you blame yourself for it, when it sounds like it was a tragic accident.”
He sighed. “I’ve come to terms with it long ago. But what I’m trying to say is—ever since then, I’ve taken my obligations seriously. I always do what’s best for my country, even if it means personal sacrifice. I never wanted anything like that to happen again, so every day since, I’ve nearly killed myself trying to give my people what they need from me, trying to do the right thing, to make the choices they need me to make instead of the ones I want to make.” He turned to her, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. There was something in his gaze, something about the way he met her eyes—like he was asking for forgiveness. She leaned closer, encouraging him with a small smile, her heart aching as she wished she knew what it was he needed from her.
He shook himself a bit, like he was refocusing. “But for the first time since I can remember, what my country needs and what I want more than anything in the world are the same thing, and that makes me happier than I’ve been in a long time.” He nodded at the sunrise. “I brought you out here because I wanted to start a new day with you. I want to start a new life with you. You would be an amazing queen. You’re everything my people need, and everything I could ever want. Will you marry me, Ella?”
Her heart full to overflowing, she blinked back tears as he pulled out a ring box and knelt in the grass at her feet.
“I know it’s quick, but we both know there’s a timeline involved,” he said apologetically, and for a moment that strange, heavy expression from earlier crossed his face again—but then it was gone, and it was just the king smiling up at her and asking her to spend the rest of her life with him.
She swallowed. How had she gotten here? How could she possibly be so lucky, to have this incredible man ask her to marry him? She had no idea, but she was ready to live her own life—and this, she’d finally decided, was the life she wanted.
“Yes,” she said, and meant it with all her heart.
Phillip stared down at the woman in his arms. Her smile sparkled brighter than that rock he’d just put on her finger, and he felt lower than dirt—because after the wedding, she would see what it was he’d been trying to explain to her a moment ago. He’d betrayed her, been forced to betray her, for the good of others. He would have to hope she’d understand.
He set her down, and she reluctantly unwound her arms from him. “One request,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Could I have my letters back? I’d like to save them, for posterity.”
She frowned. “Okay,” she said slowly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them safe,” he found himself saying, even though he’d do exactly the opposite. His deal meant he’d have to hand them all over to that scumbag reporter, first thing tomorrow so the man could plan out the reveal.
“Worried someone might find out about all the kinky stuff?” Ella said with an uncertain smile. “Personally, I’d be more worried about all the emotional stuff. To me that felt even more intimate.”
“Right.” Fuck. He was worse than dirt. He was pond scum, lower than low—a traitor to the woman he loved. But it couldn’t be helped. Best to shake it off and move on and deal with things as best he could for now. A change of subject would be a good start. “When would you like to have the wedding?”
Her eyes lit up again. “I’ve always dreamt of a quiet ceremony in the forest at sunset. Just the two of us and a few close friends and family members. And the cake, of course.”
“Oh. I’m afraid it’ll need to be public, as it’s a royal wedding—lots of pomp and circumstance, getting crowned by the heads of the church, that sort of thing. I’m sorry.”
The light in her eyes dimmed a touch. “I see. Right. Well, what if we had part of the day to ourselves, at least? Maybe a small reception, the wedding dinner?”
“It’s possible. But as queen, your whole life is about to get very public. It might be a good idea to try to get used to that now.” He winced. He knew all about the burden of public life, and he was sorry to have to foist it on her so quickly—but it really would be better if she tried to adjust to it sooner rather than struggling against it.
“But what about our families? I want them to feel like they’re a special part of our day, apart from, you know, the adoring masses and whatnot.” She said it flippantly, but her smile was faltering.
“The whole of Danovar will be your family now too, in a symbolic sense,” he said gently.