“Where does this leave us?” I call after her, biting on my lower lip to stop my chin from quivering. “I don’t want you to walk away from all of this, either. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. You saved my life.” An ache bubbles in my throat, the pain excruciating.
Why do I feel like she’s slipping away with nothing to anchor her to me?
Like I’m losing her?
Like this world is tearing us apart?
“And you saved mine,” she admits sadly. “But I’m not sure it’s enough anymore. I’m not sure I’m enough.”
“You are.” I advance on her, framing her small face in my large hands once again, holding onto her like she’s a lifesaver and I’m being tossed around by a tumultuous sea. “You’re more than enough. You claim I was born to be king. There’s no doubt in my mind you were meant to be my queen. That you are strong enough for this role.”
She searches my eyes, as if they contain the answer she’s been seeking. Then she pushes out of my hold again. “At one time, I would have believed that.”
“And now?”
“Now…” She exhales, licking her lips as she collects her thoughts. “Now I need time to think. I hope you can at least give me that after everything I’ve given you.”
I want to argue that we don’t have the luxury of time. That in mere weeks, we’re supposed to walk down the aisle of the National Cathedral and get married. But she has a point. After all the sacrifices she’s made for me, time to think is the least I can give her.
“Okay.”
“Thank you.” With a sad smile, she turns from me and walks through the gardens.
“I love you, Nora,” I call out after her.
She pauses, but doesn’t immediately respond, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. Finally, her purple-blue eyes meet mine.
Eyes I once dreamt about before I even knew her name.
Eyes I’ve been lucky enough to wake up to nearly every morning for the past several months.
Eyes I’ve noticed lose more and more of their luster since we arrived here.
“And I love Anderson. With all my heart. But I’m expected to marry Prince Gabriel.” She shakes her head. “That man is a stranger to me.”
Chapter Nineteen
Nora
The sun peeks through the heavy drapes in the bedroom I typically share with Anderson.
Or is it Prince Gabriel?
I don’t even know anymore.
All last night, I’d tossed and turned, replaying our argument in my mind. Was I too hard on him? He did have a valid excuse for missing my doctor’s appointment.
But it wasn’t just a missed doctor’s appointment. That was simply the impetus that made me realize something I’ve been struggling with since our engagement was announced.
That I’ve rarely seen the man I fell in love with.
That in his place is a relative stranger.
That I’m expected to marry a man I feel like I don’t even know.
The man I’ve been sharing my bed with barely resembles the one who approached me in front of Lincoln’s tomb and tried to impress me with his useless knowledge of the plot to steal Lincoln’s body. I want to marry that man. I’m not sure about this other person he’s become since we landed in Belmont.
It’s times like these I wish I were still in New York. All it would take would be a single text to Evie, Chloe, and Izzy, and they’d drop everything to offer me the advice I need. Or a proverbial slap in the back of the head if they thought I was being ridiculous, as has been known to happen.
Grabbing my old phone, I check my international clock to see it’s a few minutes past nine on Thursday evening in New York. While we used to get together every Thursday night at a local bar near Chloe and Evie’s work, once they got pregnant and moved out to the suburbs, we opted to trade the local bar for one of our places, usually Izzy’s or mine.
Figuring it’s worth a shot, I find Chloe’s contact information and hit the FaceTime button, waiting as the call connects. I feel like I haven’t talked to them in ages, not just the few weeks I’ve been here. After I FaceTimed them to tell them about our hasty wedding announcement and the reasons behind it, I haven’t had much time to get in touch, my days filled from the second I wake to the moment I fall into bed. We’ve all sent the occasional text, but that’s not the same.
A ping from my phone brings my attention back to it, Chloe’s bright, gray eyes and brilliant smile greeting me.
“It’s about dang time you called!” she exclaims. “We were starting to think you’d forgotten about us.”
“I could never forget about you girls.” My throat constricts at the sight of Izzy’s familiar townhouse in the background. It reminds me of home. They remind me of home.
Chloe moves from the kitchen island, setting her phone onto the coffee table in front of a couch I’m all too familiar with, Evie’s and Izzy’s faces popping into view.
“We miss you so much!” Evie states.
“When are you coming to visit?” Izzy inquires.
“Is that why you’re calling?” Evie beams. “To tell us you’re coming soon? Girls’ night isn’t the same without you. It’s like we’re missing an important member of our gang.”
“I know,” I sigh longingly. What I wouldn’t give to be there with them right now. “I’m just so exhausted lately.”
“You have a lot going on,” Chloe encourages. “You’re in a new place. New country. New life.”
“You’re also pregnant. That puts a lot of strain on your body,” Izzy adds, always the nurse. “You need to make sure you get plenty of rest and take care of yourself, regardless of everything else you have to do.”
“I am,” I tell her, although nothing could be further from the truth. I don’t have time to take care of myself.
As has been ingrained into my brain these past several weeks, my needs will always come second to the Crown’s. That, from now on, I serve the monarch and the country. It’s a noble idea, but I would love nothing more than to be selfish and put myself first, even for just a day.
“How’s Anderson?” Chloe asks, a touch of hesitation in her voice.
When I don’t immediately respond, she eyes me warily, somehow able to pick up on the tension. I should have expected nothing less. She’s always had a unique ability to read me, even when I tried to hide my feelings from everyone, including myself.
“What happened?” she pushes.
“I just…” I expel a long breath. “Everything came to a head last night, and I snapped. Since we arrived here, we’ve barely had time for each other. Between all the pre-wedding planning, public engagements, and princess training—”
Izzy holds up a hand. “Wait a hot second. What’s princess training? Is that really a thing?”
“Of course.” My voice oozes with sarcasm. “The future of this very nation depends on whether I know how to hold my teacup properly.”
In a way, it does. Like Queen Veronica told me, it’s all about the illusion. Once the illusion disappears, once people see us as normal, the monarchy risks becoming obsolete.