‘This isn’t about my enthusiasm or my beliefs. It is about Axel—it’s about fulfilling a promise. The people and the country suffered under my father’s rule. The real reason there was no rebellion was that they knew one day Axel would succeed him, and that kept the unrest at bay. Axel had a vision—one that I will make happen.’
That had been the promise he’d made in his very first speech and he would fulfil it.
‘What about your vison? The way you speak of Lycander—I can hear your pride in it.’
‘I never had a vision for Lycander. I had a work hard, play hard lifestyle.’
‘But you’ve changed?’
‘Yes, I have.’
But the cost of that had been his brother’s life.
Her frown deepened. She leant forward and he could smell her exotic scent with its overtone of papaya, could see the tiny birthmark on the angle of her cheekbone.
‘I know you will be a good ruler. Whether you rule because it is your duty or because your heart is in it.’
There was silence. She was close. Way too close. And he had had a sudden desire to tell her the truth about his ascent to the throne—a desire mixed with the longing to tug her back into his arms and damn common sense and practicality.
Neither could happen, so he rose to his feet and looked down at her.
‘Thank you. But the point I was trying to make is that I will ensure the principality Amil inherits will be a good place, with a strong economic foundation. Of course he will still have much responsibility, but I hope it will not be a burden.’
‘What if he doesn’t want the job? What if he has other ambitions, other aspirations?’
‘I would never force him to take the crown. He could abdicate.’ He met her gaze. ‘Provided we have more children.’
‘More children?’ she echoed.
‘Yes. I would like more children in order to secure the succession.’ After all, there was no hope of his brothers ever having anything to do with Lycander. ‘To take the pressure off Amil.’
‘Is that the only reason?’
‘For now. I haven’t really got my head around having Amil yet.’
Right now he was terrified about his ability to parent one child—it wasn’t the moment for a rose-tinted image of a functional, happy group of siblings.
‘Do you want more kids?’
Sunita hesitated. ‘I don’t know...’ A small smile tugged her lips upwards. ‘I haven’t really got my head around it all yet either. Until yesterday it was just me and Amil. My happiest memories are of my mother and me—just us. After—’
She broke off, looked away and then back at him, and he wondered what she had been about to say.
‘Anyway,’ she resumed, ‘I’m not sure that the whole “happy family” scenario always works. Are you close to your other brothers?’
‘No.’
His half-siblings... Stefan, who loathed all things Lycander, had left the principality as soon as he’d reached eighteen and hadn’t returned. The twins, Emerson and Barrett, still only twenty, had left Lycander only days after their father’s death and hadn’t returned.
There was a definite pattern there, and it wasn’t woven with closeness. The way they had grown up had made that an impossibility—their father had revelled in pitting brother against brother in a constant circus of competition and rivalry, and in the end Frederick had retired from the field, isolated himself and concentrated on his own life.
‘But that was down to our upbringing. I hope that our children would do better.’
Perhaps it was a fruitless hope—there was every chance he would prove to be as useless a parent as his own parents had been, in which case perhaps a large family was a foolish idea.
But now wasn’t the moment to dwell on it.
Relief touched him as the pilot announced their descent to Goa before Sunita could pursue the conversation further.