Her eyes went to Ben’s uncle again.
Besides, he had given her his word.
He, a royal prince, wouldn’t give that lightly or trivially. When he gave it, he would mean it.
Her reassurance deepened.
The windows of the car were tinted, so that although the occupants could see out, no one could see in.
‘They are used to the cars of the royal family on the roads,’ Rico remarked, as the car wound its slow way through the narrow streets of the city towards the royal palace.
‘Does anyone else know we are coming here?’ asked Lizzy.
Rico shook his head.
‘The pavements would be mobbed with paparazzi if they knew,’ he said. ‘So far as the press is concerned, you and Ben are still in England. Eventually there will be an official statement from the palace, confirming both Ben’s existence and yours, and also officially recognising him as Prince Paolo’s son and a member of the royal family. But my father will not be hustled into making any announcements in reaction to the recent stories.’
‘So no one knows we’re here?’ said Lizzy.
‘No, you are quite safe. It will be a completely private visit.’
Her tension eased a fraction.
But not by much. The car was already approaching the wide gates of a palace, driving across its wide-paved concourse. The sugar-white, faux-castellated royal palace looked as if it was made out of children’s candy, Lizzy thought. And the flanking guards were in picturesque antique costume and helmets as they swept past them and into the inner courtyard.
The car drew to a halt in front of a huge double door at the rear of the cobbled courtyard. As it stopped the doors were thrown open and two footmen emerged. One came to open the car door.
Prince Rico got out first, then turned to help lift Ben out and offer his hand to Lizzy. She managed to get out of the car without taking it.
As she straightened, she felt the warmth of the Mediterranean air in her lungs after the air-conditioned car.
Then they were heading indoors, and the cool of marble floors enveloped her as she walked beside Ben, his uncle on his other side, across the wide expanse of an entrance hall.
I’m in a palace, thought Lizzy, and the thought seemed bizarre and unreal.
One of the footmen was processing in front of them, the other bringing up the rear. Ben was still asking Rico questions. Lizzy glanced covertly either side of her, at the ornate walls, with alcoves inset with statuary.
Ahead was a huge flight of stairs, carpeted in royal blue. Prince Rico ascended lithely.
This is his home—he must do this every day of his life.
Her sense of unreality deepened.
So did the sense of oppression that had started to weigh her down.
How could she ever move in this world, even if only on the edges, as the legal mother of the Ruling Prince’s grandson? It was impossible.
Grotesque…
The cruel word pincered at her.
They gained the top of the stairs, and a wide landing that seemed to stretch endlessly in either direction. Off its length sets of double doors marched away.
Everywhere was marble and gilt, and there was the kind of hush that went with a deserted museum.
A man stepped forward, out of a doorway she hadn’t even noticed.
The procession halted, and the man bowed briefly to Prince Rico, dismissing the footmen. The man was wearing a suit, and was clearly not a servant but one of the royal staff.