‘But you are pleased to see me.’ His smile held satisfaction and her eyes narrowed, though whether in annoyance with herself or him he wasn’t sure. ‘I am pleased to see you too,’ he offered as he pushed the trolley closer to where she was curled up in an armchair. ‘And I have brought you this.’
‘What is it?’
She eyed the tall mug and turned to him with a question in her eyes.
‘It is a double-double,’ he explained. He had done some research and, according to Luca, both Imogen and Gabriella loved this type of coffee, made with cream and sugar at a well-known Canadian outlet. ‘As near to authentic as possible, though Marcello has given it the Marcello touch.’
Gabi blinked, raised a hand to her eye and then picked up the mug. ‘Thank you. That is really thoughtful.’ Another blink. ‘Enough to make me cry.’ But then a look of weariness touched her eyes and she glanced at the door. ‘Will I need to pose for the press over this romantic gesture?’
‘No.’ In truth that hadn’t even occurred to him; the realisation pinged a small message of worry before he dismissed it. A cup of coffee was hardly newsworthy. ‘I just wanted to cheer you up.’
But he realised that she was no longer listening. Instead her eyes were riveted to the pile of newspapers on the trolley.
Reaching out, she picked up the topmost one. ‘What the...?’
Cesar watched as she read, saw the colour leech from her face, and then she looked up and he saw anger sparkle in her brown eyes.
‘Show me.’ He held out a hand and she put the paper in it, keeping her eyes on him as he scanned the article.
Wake up and smell the roses! And I don’t mean a romantic bouquet!
In the past week speculation and rumour has been rife about the ‘budding’ romance—see what I did there?—between Princess Gabriella of Casavalle and Prince Cesar of Aguilarez. And romance does seem to be blooming—which has made everyone forget that in mere weeks Princess Gabriella plans to take the throne of Casavalle.
Now, some may claim she is an impostor—but this is technically untrue. DNA and legal proof show that she is indeed the late King Vincenzo’s rightful heir. Morally speaking, though...it is a different matter.
Let’s look at the facts.
Fact: Princess Gabriella’s mother, Sophia Ross, left King Vincenzo whilst she was pregnant, without telling him of the pregnancy—if we’re speaking of morality here, this is not moral.
Fact: The divorce was apparently requested very soon after her flight—King Vincenzo still didn’t know of the pregnancy.
Fact: King Vincenzo granted the divorce just weeks after the birth of Gabriella, a child he didn’t know about.
Fact: If he had known he would have granted the divorce as soon as it was requested and Gabriella would not be his heir.
Even putting aside these facts as easily as Prince Luca seems to have put aside his duties and the throne, we have to question whether Gabriella Ross is fit to be Queen.
This is a woman with zero training in royal duties, who is the daughter of a woman who had no respect for or understanding of royalty.
How can Gabriella be Queen? What if she follows in her mother’s footsteps and does a runner when it all becomes too much...? As, of course, it will. Especially if this romance withers and dies.
So, wake up, Gabriella. Smell the Casavallian roses and then go home.
To Canada.
Cesar read to the end and then looked across to where Gabi now paced the library floor, coffee in hand. ‘I wouldn’t take it too personally.’
‘How can I not take that personally? She is saying I’m not up to the job and she has twisted the facts to make my mother sound like a terrible irresponsible person and she wasn’t. I can’t let her get away with it.’
‘There is nothing you can do. Responding to these articles simply makes it worse. You must read and move on.’
‘I can’t.’ There was a crack in her voice and he rose to his feet, headed towards her, took her hands in his and for the first time ever, he felt an urge to call out a journalist, to make her think about the effect of her words. ‘I hate that they are speaking about my mother with so little sympathy. I hate that they are judging me.’
‘This article is one woman’s interpretation. She did not know your mother. She does not know you.’ His eyes searched hers for clues. ‘The past months there have been so many articles, so many stupid assertions, ill-conceived, ill-informed opinions in the press. You have ignored them all.’ But perhaps each one had taken its toll, seeped its insidious poison into a woman who was not used to the horrific glare or the ravenous insatiability of public interest.
She inhaled a deep audible breath and straightened her shoulders. ‘You’re right. Of course, I need to ignore it.’
But he could still see the hurt in her eyes, sense the effort it had taken to say the words. There was nothing he could do about that; it simply came with the territory and Gabriella would learn to deflect the negativity with time. So he should let it be now...but he couldn’t. Because he suspected there was more to it than she was admitting, because he wanted to see the defeated look in her eyes vanish. ‘Or you can tell me why this article has hit such a nerve.’