Rowan shifted in his seat.
“I want to apologize for the spectacle today.”
Rowan raised one of his perfectly defined brows. “I’m not sure the apology should come from you.” His tone was patient, his speech impeccable.
Ele glanced away, searching for strength. This was the third tough conversation of the day, and she still had one more to complete. “Actually, the apology is mine to give because Juliana’s actions today were directly related to me.”
Rowan furrowed his brow, intently watching her. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“I suffer from panic attacks.” Wow, admitting it had been difficult. She looked away from him, his gaze too much to handle. “I have for a number of years. Apparently, Juliana has taken to providing diversions to keep attention off me.” She’d taken some time on the plane to think about all of Juliana’s incidents and how the press had immediately followed her. “Today, Jules could see the beginning of an attack. With nowhere for me to disappear to—literally nowhere to hide—she tried to deflect their attention.”
Silence descended between the two of them. How much more should she say? If he wasn’t willing to forgive Jules, there was nothing more she could do.
“We—my siblings and I—don’t expose each other’s secrets. So, even if you had a
n opportunity to confront her, she would never tell you what had prompted her to …”
“To attack me in front of the press?”
His statement angered her. She’d watched the interactions, ad nauseum, and she knew Rowan had responded quite favorably to Juliana during the kiss.
“Let’s not pretend you were upset about it,” she snapped.
His eyes narrowed, and Ele immediately regretted her words.
Rowan leaned back in his seat. “I have a significant other, Your Highness.” He allowed the tidbit of information to dangle between the two of them. And it certainly complicated things. “The conversations I’ve had to engage in today were uncomfortable and, quite frankly, completely unnecessary. I should be concerned only about my team and preparing to play the number one national team in the world. Instead, I’ve had to talk to my girlfriend, my agent, my mother, my club manager, my national team manager, and my mates. I’ve had a shit day with way more conversations than I normally have in a week. To defend myself against my own actions—that, I am more than capable of taking responsibility for. I can appreciate you coming here and talking about something that is obviously problematic for you. I respect you for laying your shit at my feet for the sake of your sister. But don’t expect me to be okay with being used for any purpose. I am not a pawn for anyone. Club, team, family, and country included.”
Ele kind of wanted to hate him. Instead, she found herself respecting him. He was all Skipper right now. She had no idea what was behind the pawn comment, but somewhere in Rowan Beckwith’s past, he’d been used, and all those walls he’d erected around himself were there for a purpose.
Ele stood and smoothed her hands down the front of her pants. She’d said what she came to say. She’d slain one of her demons in the past ten minutes. Obviously, she’d not cleared the way for Juliana, but at least now, he had an understanding of her motivations. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough to forgive her, but they did not run in the same circles, and this was one of those times when she needed to cut her losses.
“Thank you for seeing me,” she said.
She turned to walk to the door.
“Your Highness,” he said, making Ele pause and look back at him, “is she okay?”
Ele thought about it. She did not have her finger on the pulse of Juliana’s moods or life. But she’d glimpsed her sister’s face during the video review. There was no triumph in her expression, no light in her eyes.
“I honestly don’t know.” How much of my soul am I willing to display for this guy? “She’s in a bit of hot water with the queen, which is never fun. And I think, even if she feels bad for what she did, I’m not sure she feels bad about her motivations.” Ele nodded.
She lifted her hand to the knob but paused when he spoke behind her, “I think your people—your brother, your PPO—have gone out of their way to speak to Tristan. It’s not so easy to get an audience with you.”
She faced him.
Rowan crossed his arms over his chest, ever defensive. “Let him go.”
Ele mirrored his pose and waited.
“You are locked up so tight; when you unravel, you’re going to take him down with you.”
Ele stiffened. Maybe the first part of his sentence was a fair assessment. But she wasn’t going to hurt Tristan.
“He doesn’t understand what he’s getting himself into. But you know. You know what he’d have to give up if this goes any further with you.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Tristan and I are clear on what this is and what this isn’t.”
They stared each other down, eyes locked, faces set.