Virgin Princess's Marriage Debt

‘Why not? I trusted you after you...’ His bitter words trailed off.

‘So you still have not forgiven me. Not really.’

‘I have,’ he growled again. ‘But you’re leaving me, again. Just like...’

‘Him,’ she said, completing his sentence. Speaking of the one man that Theo refused to name. ‘Is that what this is really about? Your father, not me?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Until you forgive, Theo, you can’t truly love me. Not really.’

‘How on earth am I supposed to forgive him? I don’t even know where he is!’ he shouted.

‘Not him. You. All this time, this unworthiness...it’s you, you can’t forgive, not me or him. And I can’t make up for that, I can’t be that for you.’

‘Don’t you dare turn this back on me. I’m here, telling you that I love you and that I’m yours.’

‘You were never mine, and you’re still not,’ she said, her voice barely even a whisper.

‘And you’re still afraid!’ he accused.

‘What?’

‘Still afraid of letting yourself be loved for you and not what you are. So tell me. Who is it that really feels unworthy here? Why is it that you’re so eager to fall at this first hurdle?’

‘Hurdle? You’re calling your plan to leave me at the altar a hurdle? The fact th

at you consider even doing that means you have no respect or regard for my people, my country! They are me and you would have left us all.’

‘But I’m not! I’m not leaving you. You’re the one who is walking away and if you don’t see that then you’re lying to yourself.’

She didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t. Because deep within her heart, she knew that there was some semblance of truth to his words. But she had to. She had to leave him. Her country had to come first. Hadn’t that been drilled into her as a child? As a young woman? By her parents, her father? There was no other choice here.

‘I have to return to the party—’

‘Let them wait!’ he yelled, his voice so loud she felt it echo within her body. ‘I’m trying to tell you that I love you.’

‘And I’m trying to tell you that it doesn’t matter.’

She turned to leave, but Theo blocked her path. He crowded her, his shoulders, his body a barrier that wouldn’t be breached. She pulled herself up short before she crashed into him, but he caught her elbow and stopped her fall.

‘I love you, Sofia,’ he said, the only notice he gave her before drawing her to him, flush against his body, and kissing her with more passion and pain than she was capable of bearing. The moment his lips met hers, the fury and anger driving him, driving her, softened, and his tongue swept into her mouth as if it had a right to be there, as if it belonged to her and not him, just like his heart. Everything in her roared for release, desperate to escape and join him in this passion play. Her heart soared as much as it fell, as she realised that this would be the last time she could kiss him, hold him, show him all the huge, complex, amazing but terrible things she felt in that instant.

Her hands flew to his head, fingers riffling through his hair, pulling him to her, as the tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. The salty-sweet taste of them mingling with their kiss was the last thing she remembered, before pulling away from him and fleeing.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SOFIA HADN’T STOPPED crying for two days. She hadn’t left her room in Iondorra’s palace, she hadn’t met with the council to help create the statement that would stop the wedding in three days’ time, and even her sleep was broken by huge sobs that racked her body and tears that fell down her cheeks.

From the moment she had left Theo in the hotel by the lake it had felt as if her world had shattered, and somewhere deep down she knew that she deserved it. There were things she needed to do, but her mind couldn’t hold on to them. It was as if her thoughts were being filtered, all else dropping away, to leave only grief and sorrow. If she had expected numbness, a deep, quiet agony to blanket over her heart, it had not happened.

Instead she felt raw, the constant dull ache of her broken heart her only companion.

‘I’m trying to tell you that I love you... You’re the one who is walking away...you’re lying to yourself.’

Theo’s words punctuated each breath, each thought. Because he was right. Once again, she had his heart. He loved her and she was walking away—only this time, she really was aware of what that meant. He had proclaimed to want to teach her the consequences of her actions...and now? She fully understood them.

She had been so sure in herself, so sure that she was right, putting her country first before a man who would have ruined it. Who preached consequences and gave no thought to the ones his own actions would have caused.

But beneath the words that ran around her head on a loop were the ones she didn’t want to inspect. Didn’t want to listen to, or believe. The ones that proclaimed her to be afraid of being loved for who she was and not what she was. As if the two things could be separated so easily.

This morning she had had marginally more success than the day before. She had made it to the bathroom and forced herself into the shower. Standing before the large mirror, she wiped away the steam and condensation from the cool, slick surface and stared at herself.