12
28 February
Xavier Hall
Juliana quietly seethed for the rest of the afternoon. She’d thought she was being so savvy, going to the duke with her plan for security; instead, she’d mucked everything up.
All day, visions of the queen shaking her head with exasperated chagrin haunted Juliana. Her grandmother would have been disappointed with Juliana’s miscalculation. She’d played right into the duke’s hand, giving him the ammunition he needed to leak the story of Rowan’s background and their supposed relationship.
Sequestered in a study with Rowan did not help her mood. With a laptop and an iPad between them, they combed the headlines. Every major news outlet seemed to think the revelations were important enough to not only report on, but to also offer commentary and public opinion. Commoners from Armenta, Nava and Toledo had statements to make about Rowan’s secret past and his secret relationship with Juliana. Most people felt duped, like Rowan had personally lied to them. All sorts of comments were being lobbed in his direction. And that was from the public—mostly random strangers. Rowan’s phone had been buzzing incessantly with messages from his friends. The damage to them was far more personal. Rowan struck her as a man with few but deep friendships. Because of the depth of those relationships, the hurt was amplified.
And being in close quarters with a reeling, pissed off, frustrated Rowan Beckwith seemed a bit like what a matador must experience when faced with a raging bull in a closed-off arena, where all escape routes were shuttered. His pulsing anger bounced off the walls of the drawing room, constantly pinging her. His dark, accusing gaze skewered her every time he happened to look in her direction.
Juliana had thought the queen had cornered the market on silent disapproval. She had been mistaken. Rowan was the master. She wished he would just yell at her or talk to her, express his disgust. But he hoarded it like a miser, holding his words close.
A new, approved schedule was brought to them. The innocuous piece of paper seemed to be the tipping point. He pushed up too quickly, perhaps forgetting his injury for the first time. His pain radiated outward as beads of sweat popped on his forehead. Claiming he needed rest, he lumbered from the room, the clip-clop of his gait another reminder of his mood. She thought the stone floor might shatter beneath the force of the crutches hitting it. When he finally left, she released a breath, her chest expanding with the first full gulp of air she’d managed.
On shaky legs, she walked to her new suite. When she entered, Noah was waiting for her.
“Need to hit something?” he asked. “I have everything set up.”
“Yes!” she replied.
Practically running into her room, she stripped off her suit and put on her workout gear. Once dressed, she followed Noah through the maze of corridors to a gym. It was gritty and dark, but she could tell Noah had put his stamp on the place. He’d installed a heavy bag and brought in some mats.
“Their guards used to train down here. When they refurbished the basement wing, they put in a new gym. I know one of the guards from my military days. He let me use this space.”
“It’s private and perfect. Are you ready?”
Noah led her over to the heavy bag. He held open the gloves for her to slide her hands inside. Then, they got to work with Noah holding the bag for her. When they finished there, they ran through some self-defense moves. When Juliana and Noah were warmed up, they worked through their routine, a combination of boxing and Krav Maga. The concentration required of Juliana allowed her to let go of the responsibility she felt for how the day had transpired and the stress of the coming fallout. With the workout completed, she was clear-headed. She sat on the mat, stretching, and contemplating what needed to happen.
“You good?” Noah asked.
Juliana merely nodded. She appreciated Noah’s steady presence, but she wasn’t close to him like Ele was to Robert. Noah worked for her, and he kept her safe. Full stop.
Noah usually left her to stretch on her own, but he stood near the door, waiting for her. His presence was a deviation to their routine.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He frowned. “Spidey-sense.”
Juliana’s brow furrowed. “Spidey-sense?”
“I’ve learned to trust my gut. The duke’s insistence on his own security for you doesn’t sit well with me. Something was off about that. I know I keep a low profile, but we weren’t secretive about me being here. I’d just like to be a bit more present, if that’s okay with you, of course.”
“You know I trust your judgment.” She did. Completely. If Noah felt he needed to stick closer to her, she wasn’t going to complain.
“Have you spoken to the palace today?” he asked.
Jules wanted to squirm a bit under his scrutiny. She should have reached out to someone. The queen, Jamie, Ele. But she hadn’t. And while she’d kept her phone with her all day, she’d silenced it early. She saw their calls coming through, but she was reluctant to answer their inquiries. She’d been having practice conversations with them all day. Predicting their questions and coming up with answers she hoped would satisfy them.
She’d been on the fringes of Jamie and Ele’s relationship her whole life. And there was a teeny-tiny part of her that wanted to make them stew a bit and then an even infinitesimally smaller part of her that wanted to blow them off completely. A sort of you haven’t paid attention to me for most of my life, so don’t start now attitude. It wasn’t fair to them, and it wasn’t really true either. Just the little girl part of her who was jealous of the bond the twins shared. Well, and the parents they shared.
“No. I was so preoccupied with the news. I haven’t had a chance to talk to them.”
Noah grunted.
She didn’t need a manual to know he was disappointed with that response.
“You might want to check in with them, you know, when you get a chance,” he advised.
Noah didn’t advise about anything other than her security and her jabs and kick placement. Alarm blasted through her.
“What do you know?” she accused.
He smirked. “I know that I received a call from Robert.”
Juliana closed her eyes, hoping to blot out the truth.
“They’re on their way, aren’t they?”
Noah glanced down at his watch. “You have a couple of hours.”
Juliana absorbed this news with a conflict of emotion. At once joyously happy they felt the need to come to her and right mortified she would have to lie to their faces.
Bloody, bloody hell.
Without another word to Noah, she flew from the room and then stopped outside the door with no idea which way she was supposed to go. Noah nudged her shoulder and pointed to the left. But she fell in step behind instead of trying to lead. Her mind raced with the implications of her brother and sister coming here.
For the previous decade, plus a few years, Jamie and Ele were never in the same place outside of their own province. When their parents, Crown Prince Edward and Princess Margaret—had been assassinated thirteen years ago, Ele had witnessed it and then been kidnapped and held for three days. Up until the previous summer, Ele had suffered crippling panic attacks, and palace policy forbid her and Jamie from traveling together. All of that had changed this past summer when all three of the siblings traveled to America for the World Championship Cup. And now, for a second time, they were changing the rules and rushing to her.
When they reached the suite, Juliana dived for her phone. She fumbled with it before she was able to scroll through the messages.
Ele: What is happening over there? These reports can’t be true.