The Royal and the Rebel (Royally Pitched 2)

“Before we head up, we probably need to talk about this morning,” he said. His smile shifted to chagrin. “I was a bit of an ass. You were right to be mad. I’m not above apologizing when I’m wrong.”

“Really?” she asked, unable to disguise her surprise.

He chuckled. “Full disclosure: not often. But I had no right to step into your family business.” The smile dropped from his face. “But I don’t agree with the decision you all made.”

She opened her mouth to speak.

He held his hand up. “It’s not up for debate, I know. But promise me you won’t go snooping around.”

Juliana rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t planning on going all James Bond. I don’t have any cameras stashed in pens or listening devices to plant. I’m just observing.”

He nodded. “I think we need to put on a better show tonight than we did this morning.”

“Honestly, being familiar enough to fight with each other seemed to do the trick.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Are you ready?”

Rowan nodded to the door. Juliana led him out, and as they made their way down the hall, she thought they might be able to pull it off after all.

The hall opened up in front of them, another labyrinth in this place. She assumed he knew where they were going.

“Did you live here once?” she asked, startling herself.

They were not about history sharing. It was road she didn’t want to travel. They were both one-wayers on what would have to be a two-way street.

“No, never,” he responded without grunting or scoffing, which emboldened her.

“Can I ask why?”

There was a hitch in his step, a stutter between the clack of his crutches and the soft pad of his feet. He didn’t answer, and Juliana found she was disconcerted. She wanted to know more about him.

“My mother met the duke at university. She was originally from Jamaica and had won a scholarship to Oxford. I’m fairly certain he charmed her into his bed. She wasn’t even done with her first year before she was pregnant with me. He took care of her at least. Flat, doctor bills, even was with her when she had me. And for the next year. But he’d never intended to stay with her. Already been betrothed to another. When she found out, she fled back to Jamaica.”

Five clacks, soft stomps. Silence.

“She stayed there until my grandparents passed. And then, with not many options, she came to Nava. His mistress in perpetuity.”

Five more clacks, soft stomps.

“By ten, I stopped talking to him when he came over. He told my mother of the titles and insisted on all types of etiquette training, the best tutors, the proper heir, all while having another son with his wife. And then when his first wife passed, I thought maybe he would finally give my mother what she wanted. But no, he found another aristocrat, married her, and had Violet.”

They finally reached the elevator, a different one farther on. He stopped in front of the keypad but didn’t reach for the call button. He didn’t look at her though, just stared blankly ahead.

“I’ve never been here. Wouldn’t be here now if he and my mother hadn’t secreted me away on a helicopter when I was hopped up on morphine after my first surgery.”

Mortified for him, Juliana snapped, “That’s right bullshit. They had no right to do that.”

He chuckled as he shifted on his crutches to face her. “You are pretty scrappy. I wouldn’t have thought.”

For some reason, his assessment made her smile.

Wait until you see me work out. She grinned.

Since he was being so forthcoming, she asked, “And no one knows who you are? I know Tristan had no idea. You’ve never told anyone?”

“Just two people. Someone from long ago, well in my past. I thought I was sharing it with her, but apparently, she’d already known. And Nico.”

“No wonder,” she mused aloud.

He pushed the button, and the elevator doors opened. Juliana let him go first and then followed him inside. The doors slid smoothly shut.

“No wonder what?” he asked as the car glided up.

She shouldn’t answer, but the mood between them was easy, so without any thought, she did. “No wonder you’re a miserable ass most of the time. Living a lie is exhausting.” When the words left her mouth, she wanted to shove them back inside. She waited for the explosion or a scathing remark. But there was only silence.

The elevator slid to a stop she hardly felt, and the doors opened. This time, he waited for her to exit. She did and then paused for him to catch up to her. He tilted his head as he turned to the right. Still, he didn’t talk, and the comfort she’d experienced with him began to fall away, like dead leaves in a wind. One giving way before another and then another until there weren’t any left. She marched beside him, her clutch held in front of her by both hands. She was stiff and formal, all wrong for any part of acting like a couple in love. The double doors towered above even Rowan. Twelve feet of elegantly carved wood separating them from the crowd of onlookers. She reached out and touched his arm.

“Ro,” she said, the shortened name surprising her.

He halted and turned toward her.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

He studied her, a merciless rake of his eyes down her body and then back to her face. “I can handle astute assessments, Your Highness.” He leaned forward, displaying an agility with his crutches reserved for those long familiar with them. He dipped his head until his mouth was uncomfortably close to her ear. “Now that you’ve dished it out, just make sure you can take it.” His words were delivered with a malicious intent, and a chill dipped down Juliana’s spine as her face heated.

When the doors swung open to the crowd of onlookers, they saw Rowan towering over her with his head tucked into her neck and a flush rising up from her chest and spreading across her cheeks. They assumed they were interlopers on a tender moment between two lovers when in fact, they were witnessing another sweet moment souring.