Royal Service (Royals of Danovar 1)

She blinked, nodded. “Right. Okay. I get that.”

“But we can keep thinking about how to make part of the day just for close friends and family, if that’s what you want.”

“I do, thank you.”

“In the meantime, maybe we can finish the ride, enjoy a little private time right now?”

She smiled again, gazing up at him like he was a god come down from Mount Olympus. Usually that would make him feel amazing, but today it made him feel worse than ever. “I would really, really like that,” she said.

They mounted their horses and finished their ride, her mulling over wedding plans aloud while he tortured himself in silence about all the things he’d had to leave unsaid.

He’d just have to hope she would forgive him when she found out what he’d done.

14

Ella dragged herself out of the limo with as much grace as she could muster, which wasn’t much. A week of carefully scheduled and documented public outings would do that to a girl. All she wanted was some free time. A break. A bit of privacy—preferably with the sexy man at her side, whom she hadn’t seen in a non-public way for far too long.

As Phillip stepped out of the limo behind her, she spotted the garage full of motorcycles. Oh, yes. That would do nicely.

She shot Phillip a suggestive look, nodding at the building. “Want to blow this popsicle stand, finally ta

ke that sunset ride?”

He hesitated.

“Come on,” she urged. “We’ve been to interviews and Parliament sessions and formal dinners with more forks than any girl should have to count. One ride alone with you is all I’m asking.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. We have dinner with a diplomat scheduled this evening and we can’t miss it. Unfortunately his translator is sick and the diplomat himself doesn’t speak the language, but if he won’t cancel, neither can we.”

She balked. “We’re going to have dinner with a man we can’t even talk to?”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, a rare sign of tiredness from the inexhaustibly dutiful King of Danovar. “Is it too much to ask to simply enjoy a beautiful dinner while we fulfill our obligations?”

He didn’t say it unkindly, but inside Ella, something curled up tight. This was what she’d been afraid of; that they’d get so overloaded with duties they would have no time for each other. And they weren’t even married yet.

“Have you thought about what kind of dress you’d like to wear for the big day yet?” Phillip asked as they walked into the Summer House, trying to cheer her up. He’d already told her that they would spare no expense, that the tailors could custom-make her anything she wanted.

“Not yet,” she said, reluctantly allowing him to change the subject. “Though my stepmother has really gotten into the wedding spirit. She’s got her whole room plastered with dress pictures she wants me to look at. But I do have an idea for the shoes—I want to wear those glittery silver heels, the ones that were the reason we first met. I wore them the first time I danced with you and… the first time I did other things with you.” She glanced up, hoping he would show some interest. Maybe she could still talk him into that sunset ride after all.

But he was frowning. “All Danovian queens have gotten married in traditional leather clogs,” he said.

She gritted her teeth. Tradition, rules, duties—she’d just about had enough of them to last a lifetime already, and now they were taking this from her too? “Do we have to follow tradition for everything? Can’t we have our own thing, even just a little?”

“Tradition gives our people stability. But perhaps the clogs could be made over in a way you like?”

And that was it: the final straw. She’d been treated as second-best by her stepfamily her whole life and she was tired of coming in second place with Phillip now, too. He was always so focused on what his people needed that he couldn’t even see how much she was struggling with the transition from secret lover to public queen. “Maybe,” she said vaguely, but inside she was making plans to get out of there as soon as possible.

She wanted her old Phillip back. And she knew exactly where to find him.

The next morning, Phillip read his newspapers alone.

He glanced down at the empty seat next to him and frowned. Ella had been joining him for his mornings up here on the balcony while they drank their coffee and caught up with the news, and even though he’d always liked to be alone during this daily ritual before, now he missed her. God knew she deserved to sleep in after the grueling week they’d had, though.

But ten minutes later he’d finished his coffee and she still hadn’t shown. They had brunch scheduled with his mother to go over Parliament business soon, and it would be beyond rude to keep her waiting.

“Drake!” he called, and the ever-present head of security stepped into view with his usual slightly dour, slightly amused expression.

“Yes, sire?”