Wraye’s here. Wraye came, even after I threw her out. If Aubrey believed the story wasn’t true, maybe she does, too. I follow Aubrey downstairs and see her standing at the foot of the staircase, tears running down her cheeks.
Aubrey embraces her, but Wraye looks, desperately, over her shoulder at me. My heart expands to the size of the entrance hall.
“You’re so sweet to worry about us.” Aubrey pulls away, sees Wraye is still crying, and hurries to the downstairs bathroom.
I lay my hands on her shoulders, though I’m aching to fold her in my arms. “I need to talk to you.”
Wraye pushes my hands from my shoulders, her eyes filling with tears again. “I need to talk to you, too.”
My daughter comes back holding a box of tissues, and Wraye takes one gratefully. “Aubrey, may I please speak to your father in private?”
Aubrey glances between us, perplexed. “Of course, but…”
“We won’t be long,” I tell her, leading Wraye toward the lounge, at the back of the house.
When I close the door behind us, Wraye lunges into my arms. Relief bursts through me. She doesn’t hate me. I hold her as tight as I can, pressing my cheek against the top of her head.
As my mouth seeks hers, I find she’s still crying.
“Are those tears for me?” I gently brush her tears away with my fingers as I press my lips to hers. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. Everything will be all right.”
“The treason charge,” she says urgently. “What are you going to do? King Anson can’t have you arrested, he just can’t.”
My heart sinks. “You believe the story.”
“Of course, I don’t. How could I believe such a stinking pile of crap?”
“Then why would you think I would be charged with treason?”
Wraye glares at me. “Because some people will believe anything they read in the papers!”
I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. It’s the indignation burning in her eyes and the sudden, immense relief. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. I shouldn’t be laughing.”
She grips my lapels and implores me with her eyes. “I need to know you’re not in danger. Please say that someone else can tell the King that you never betrayed his parents and left them to die?”
“All my men who were in the King’s Guard,” I assure her, smiling down at her lovely face. I can bear anything now I know that she’s worried for me. “There are probably even People’s Republic records that will back me up. I hear that all the archives are being gone through carefully.”
Wraye closes her eyes and sinks against me. “Oh, thank heavens, I was so worried. All the way here, it was all I could think about.” She looks up at me. “And doing this.”
She rises up on her toes and presses her lips to mine in a slightly salty but tender kiss.
I kiss her back hungrily, victory thundering through me. Aubrey has faith in me. Wraye loves me. I can feel it in her kiss. I’ll propose now, and she can tell me to piss off if she wants to, just as long as she also says yes.
“I’m going to keep asking until you say yes. Wraye, will you—”
Wraye speaks over me. “I thought about kissing you because I knew it would be the last time.”
She puts both hands against my chest and pushes herself away, until there’s three feet of distance between us.
“Come back here.” I reach for her, but she takes a swift step back.
“No. You won’t want to touch me in a minute. I know where that rumor came from.”
“It’s nothing. The Court has always been filled with gossip. I’ll find out who it was and deal with them myself.”
“Your Grace, please listen to me.” Tears are threatening to fall from her lashes again. “I’m so ashamed of the things I knew and went along with. I never imagined that it was you and Aubrey who were going to suffer. I didn’t think anyone would suffer. I wouldn’t have done it, but I was so worried about Mama. She barely survived after Papa took his own life, and I was terrified she’d do the same, if we didn’t…”
Wraye pauses and takes a breath as if gathering her strength. “Mama and I are deceiving the Court, and we have from the very moment we stepped foot in the palace. The Rugovas lost all their wealth and lands before the revolution. We don’t belong there and never have.”
I frown at her, not understanding. Emmet Rugova took his own life? If the Rugovas lost everything, I would have known about it.
“The second is…” She falters, and her face crumples. After taking a deep breath, she says quickly, “Mama has been selling Court gossip to the newspapers in order to secure invitations to balls from a palace steward and pay for our clothes. That’s the reason you’re in the papers this morning.”