Creed opens his door and darts around the SUV to open mine. I’m cautious as I step onto the ground, making sure I have my footing before placing my full weight on my legs. Once I straighten, he bows, then stands aside as I walk up the stairs and into the building.
“Your Highness,” my head butler greets me with a bow.
“Richard.”
“Ms. Tremblay is out back in the gardens. I thought perhaps—”
“Of course. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.”
He bows again, then retreats. I pause in the foyer, running a hand over my face as I try to come up with something to say to Nora to make this better. Make this right.
It was only one appointment.
But to Nora, it was more than that.
It was about having me present, something I’ve done a shitty job of lately. I’m not sure how to balance all these new responsibilities the Crown has placed on me and being a good fiancé.
Now I understand why my father never remarried after my mother passed away. It’s impossible to balance both a relationship and running a country. No wonder most monarchs don’t marry for love but to simply produce the requisite heir and a spare.
But I don’t want that life for me.
My mother didn’t want that life for me, either.
Exhaling a long breath, I make my way out the back doors and through the gardens. I don’t even have to question where Nora is. I know. She was just as drawn to this spot as I was the first time I saw it. So I head straight for the overlook along the rocky cliffs.
As I approach, I slow, pausing to appreciate how beautiful she looks as she sits on the bench, gaze focused on the crashing waves below. The breeze blows through her hair, the moonlight illuminating her silhouette, making her appear ethereal and otherworldly. Like something from a different dimension.
Then my gaze shifts to what she holds in her hand — a grainy black-and-white photo, something that resembles a bean inside a dark space.
If I felt like an asshole earlier, it’s ten times worse now that I see the first picture of our baby.
I should have been there when she first saw it, too.
“Baby’s doing well,” she says evenly, not looking at me. “Measuring nine weeks, so that’s about right. And the heartbeat is strong, but because of my past…complications, the doctor wants to see me again in two weeks to make sure everything’s still progressing well. But don’t worry. I won’t expect you to make room for me in your hectic schedule to be there.”
I advance toward her, my eyes pleading. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to be there today.”
“I know.” She stands, leaving the ultrasound photo on the bench, taunting me. “Trust me. I know.” She faces me, revealing bloodshot eyes from what I can only assume to be hours of crying while I attended a gala thrown for the Queen of England.
“For the last several hours, I’ve berated myself for being upset with you for breaking your promise. It’s not like you didn’t have a good excuse. But what happens next time when some foreign minister comes into town? Or the president? Or someone else more important than me? Lord knows that list is miles long.”
“Nora…,” I say again, stepping toward her, but she holds up her hand, stopping me.
“I get that you have responsibilities. I’ve had this ‘duty to the crown’ edict ingrained into my head every damn second since I stepped off that airplane. I know all about your duty. And, apparently, my sole duty is to provide an heir and a spare, making me feel like I’m nothing more than a walking uterus.”
“You’re so much more than that. You know that.”
“Do I? Because these past few weeks, you’ve done little to make me feel that, Anders. I’ve never felt so goddamn alone in my life. I left the only home I’ve known for you. Left my friends. For you. And now I’m going through this pregnancy, which scares me absolutely shitless. All. For. You.”
With each word she speaks, her voice becomes louder and more choked with emotion, tears falling down her cheeks.
“If I want to be with you, I have no option but to give you children. That’s part of the deal of marrying the future king, something I wish you’d have told me. After everything I went through last time…” She raises her face to the sky, her eyes glistening against the moonlight. Then she levels a stare back at me. “But I’m willing to put these fears aside. For you. Willing to sacrifice having my best friends at my side when I all but sell my soul to this monarchy. For you. What have you given up to be with me?”
I open my mouth, unsure what to say, but she answers for me.
“Nothing, Anders. You’ve sacrificed nothing.”
The vein in her neck pulses against her skin, her muscles taut, anger and despair mixing in a lethal combination on her face.
“I miss my home. Miss the stench of New York, even on garbage day. Miss my friends. But you don’t seem to care about any of that.” She pinches her lips together in a tight line as she crosses her arms over her stomach, seeming to shrink into herself. “Maybe your grandmother was right. Maybe I am too weak for this.”
“What do you mean?” My gaze flames with fury and surprise. “When did she say that?”
She shrugs. “At tea a few weeks ago. The ink on our engagement announcement was barely even dry when she pulled me aside to tell me I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“She doesn’t speak for me. You know that.”
“Just the rest of the royal household.” She throws up her hands. “Hell, the rest of this entire fucking country.”
“What do you want me to do? Walk away from this? Because I will. For you, Nora, I will.”
She swipes the tears from her cheeks. “I would never ask you to do that. As much as I can tell certain things about this life aggravate you, I saw your face as we were landing and you laid eyes on your country for the first time in a while.” She smiles sadly. “It’s the same way I feel when I see the Manhattan skyline. You love your home. You love your country. And when I walked off that plane on your arm and caught my first glimpse of Prince Gabriel, I realized you were born to be king. To lead. You said it yourself. You have the opportunity to do good not just for your country, but for all of Europe. Maybe even the world. After all…” She swallows hard. “With great power comes great purpose.” Her eyes lock with mine, a beat passing between us. Then she lowers her head. “But when I saw the photos of you with the Queen of England today, it finally hit me.”
“What did?”
She lifts her gaze back to mine, smiling sadly. “That the man I’ve seen during public events and in the media is a complete stranger to me.” Her chin trembles, her words as difficult for her to say as they are for me to hear. “That I don’t know you anymore. That I don’t know the man I’m supposed to marry in a few weeks.”
I step toward her, clutching her cheeks in my hands, swiping her tears away with my thumbs. “Yes, you do. You’re one of the few people who does know me. Who knows who I really am. Who knows Anderson North. Everything else, this person who has to cut ribbons, kiss babies, and make speeches… Prince Gabriel… That’s not really me.”
“That may be true, but lately, that’s the only person I’ve seen. How am I supposed to share my bed with a stranger? How am I supposed to marry a stranger?” She peers into my eyes, begging me for an answer I can’t give. Then she steps away and turns toward the house.