The Princess and the Player (Royally Pitched 1)

She wanted the chance to see what she and Tristan could be, but could she sacrifice her sister’s future for the possibility of hers?

“It’s not your place to give me permission to feel what I feel or to approve of it. Quite frankly, I could leave all of this behind and thrive. I don’t need the palace, the money, the privilege. You need me far more than I need you.”

“We do,” the queen concurred.

She needed to be strong enough to take what she wanted. And in that moment, she realized she was. She would do the best thing for everyone. “I think there is another way. Rather than auction off me or Juliana for an advantageous marriage, we can—”

The door behind her opened, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Juliana stood in the entryway, dressed for the night in a gold sheath that skimmed along her body like a second skin. Her hair was up, and rather than the dainty tiara Ele had chosen, Juliana wore a thick, diamond-encrusted headband. Her trademark freckles stood stark against the pale contrast of her skin.

“I’ll do it,” Juliana said, her voice compelling and decisive.

Everyone exchanged confused glances.

Jamie recovered first. “Do what?”

“Announce my engagement to Barrington tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ele said. Standing, she made her way to Juliana, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the room. Ele reached out and closed the door behind them. Then, she stepped close to her sister. “Stop trying to save me. I’ve got this,” she whispered. And she did.

She turned back to the queen. “If saving the kingdom is so important, why don’t you give the people what they want?”

Lilian’s eyes narrowed. “And what is it they want?”

Ele knew she was going down a treacherous road, but this was what she was meant to do. “Pass the crown to Jamie. Now.”

Ele waited for the doors to fly open and for the Queen’s guard to haul her to the dungeon. Instead, there was only quiet acceptance. The queen heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back in her chair. Ele tensed, waiting for someone to say something.

“It won’t completely quell the secessionists, but yes, we are starting to put that plan into place.”

Ele couldn’t believe her ears. She looked to Robert, who gave a brief nod, and then to Jamie, who looked a little green.

Lilian rose and walked to the window, her back to the room. “It’s a concession, and it will help. But it won’t solve the problem, and it won’t be the end of it. The fanatics will still want their independence. But I suppose a union between you and your footballer might provide some distraction. Everyone loves a royal wedding.”

“Uh …” Ele didn’t know how to respond to that, but she realized the idea didn’t scare her in the least.

“We are playing the long game, I’m afraid,” said the queen. She turned back to them. “We are not going to solve this problem tonight. But it’s good to have the four of you together and to see how you all are so willing to sacrifice your own happiness for each other.” She locked eyes with each of them in turn. “Don’t forget to keep fighting for each other and for your legacy. It belongs to all of you.”

Then, she walked forward and embraced Robert, Jamie, Juliana, and finally Ele. She grabbed Ele’s hands. “Now, we should probably make an appearance at our gala.”

37

8 December

Tristan let himself into his flat and dropped his keys on the small table by the door. His duffel bag fell from his shoulder and somehow found its way into a nook, like he’d placed it there. Tiredness settled into his limbs. He loved playing for his country, and winning the World Championship Cup had been his every dream come true. But he was exhausted. It wasn’t the normal pre-December grind either. He’d been playing football for almost eighteen straight months. He wouldn’t have it any other way, but with the heavily scheduled month of December around the corner, his body felt every step. Tonight, the fatigue weighed thicker after watching Rowan sustain what could be a season-ending injury. The physios had been quiet about the extent of the damage, and Rowan’s mobile was defaulting to voice mail. Tristan’s worry for his friend and mentor added to his disquiet.

Even with his fatigue and Rowan’s injury, a low-level hum was streaming through his blood. Ele was back. He wouldn’t get to see her anytime soon, but just knowing she was here, within touching distance, settled and unnerved him. No more time-zone calculations, less worry. She would hate to know he’d been concerned about her being alone. Even with Robert close, things could have happened. Tristan would rest easier tonight.

Or perhaps not.

Tonight was the Christmas gala, and she still hadn’t reached out to him. The longer her silence, the more likely the chance she was going to end things between them. He knew he’d messed up with that stupid photo, but he was relieved to finally have the conversation with her about the future. He’d been biding his time, looking for an opening. It wasn’t the best, but at least he had told her how he felt.

Now, tonight, he’d have to wait until the photogs plastered her picture everywhere. He knew she was anxious to test herself with her interactions with the press, and he was happy to let her since it would benefit him. He longed to see her, and if the only way for it to happen was through impersonal pictures, he’d take it.

After his shower, he put on some sweats and tried Rowan again. When he couldn’t get a response, he tried Caleb.

“Anything, mate?”

“No. Food?”