She asked you not to watch.
He couldn’t stop. His eyes stung and his heart raced. Her hair was in a ponytail and she was in jeans and a tee. She looked achingly familiar. Just younger. Sadder. Her husky voice broke his heart. It would break any one human’s heart. The look shared between mother and daughter? It was so intimate, so deeply personal.
He closed his eyes. But he still saw it—burned in his brain. Such a private moment that should never have been made public.
He knew she had strength now. She’d been forged in fire. But that sweet, vulnerable woman was still inside. She cared, despite her determined armour. It was only a thin covering. That was why she didn’t stick around, right? Because she could be pierced too easily.
She’d been recorded unknowingly—by someone she trusted invading her privacy. Taking the preciousness of that memory, taking advantage of her for monetary gain. And the dark side of that exposure? Elsie had been turned on by everyone, including her family. The absolute isolation she’d suffered... And that was when he read some of the comments that had been posted online. The shredding of her music, her voice, her very being.
The bitterest bile rose. He couldn’t let it happen again.
He utterly understood the loss of privacy, the invasion of deeply personal moments and he felt sharp-edged resignation as they were put forward for public consumption. Funerals. Weddings. Coronations. Even a simple walk around a park or a visit to a café... He intimately knew how it felt to have such private moments put on display and he was always guarded to ensure his deepest feelings remained known only to himself. To protect himself from things like this.
But this had been so much worse than that. This had been a deeply personal moment between a dying mother and her daughter that never should have been witnessed by anyone let alone stolen. Used. And then scorned.
So unfairly. So unjustly.
So she shouldn’t have to bear the scrutiny and judgement of this damned article now. She shouldn’t have her family’s past raked over, repeatedly. And it would be repeatedly. Once her name was publicly linked with his, anyone who’d met her in their travels would now sell their stories. It would also be relentless. The exposure was too much for anyone but those hardened to it. Who had the skills to handle it. That wasn’t her. She moved on as soon as the whispers began—choosing fresh start after fresh start.
He couldn’t blame her for that. His mother had been miserable in public life. His father had simply run away from it. Felipe had to do better for Amalia and heaven knew he was trying. But he’d made a promise to his grandfather. He needed to be the one who stayed and stood fast.
But he needed to get Elsie far away so she would be safe and free. She should have security and love—a family of her own. Children? He was never bringing children into the palace. He couldn’t protect them.
He had to fix this. Because he couldn’t stand to watch her wither beneath the glare of those cameras and phones. He had to get her out. He had to see her himself and ensure she understood the urgency.
He brushed past Garcia. ‘I’ll be back—’
‘But, sir—’
He glanced at his watch. Had she left already?