“You’ll always be a princess to me.”
I draw in a breath, allowing myself to find a hint of comfort in his words. “Thank you.”
He pulls back, keeping me at arm’s length as he stares intently into my eyes. “And I think once the dust settles and the noise dies down, you’ll find most people feel the same way. The loudest voice in the room is seldom the wisest. And is often the most scared. Just some food for thought.” He holds my gaze, then nods, making his way down the steps.
Just before getting into the SUV, he bows his head. “My lady.” Then he climbs into the car.
I expect them to drive away, but they don’t. Instead, he keeps his eyes trained on me, which I imagine he’ll do until he sees me disappear into Izzy’s house.
Turning toward the keypad, I enter the code and the door buzzes, granting me entry. I walk into the small foyer, setting my suitcase by the entryway table, the place filled with light. I close the door behind me, then look out the window, watching as the last tie to my life in Belmont drives off.
“Nora?” Izzy’s voice carries from the top of the stairs.
I turn toward the staircase to see Izzy, Evie, and Chloe standing there.
“Welcome home,” she says with a sad smile.
I make my way up the stairs and into their outstretched arms. I burst into tears, all the emotions I’ve kept to myself since walking away from Anderson one last time washing over me. They don’t ask me if I’m sure I did the right thing. Don’t try to goad me into talking about my mother. Don’t bring up anything that would make my heart splinter even more than it already is.
They just hold me and let me get it all out.
Just like any loyal friends would.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Anderson
I stare at the empty chair beside me in the formal dining room of my residence while Lieutenant Colonel Bridge reviews my agenda for the day. I somehow manage to nod when it’s expected, but my attention is elsewhere. It’s focused on the ghost of the woman who once sat in that chair every morning.
I knew I’d miss her when she left. But I didn’t expect to feel her everywhere in this house.
Her laughter still echoes in the halls.
Her smile still tortures me every time I close my eyes.
Her perfume still permeates the sheets of the bed we once shared, despite the fact the household staff changes them regularly.
When the room falls silent, I snap out of my daze, bringing my attention back to Bridge. “Thank you,” I say, assuming he’s done telling me where my presence will be required today.
A trained monkey once more, I simply go through the motions and do what I’m told. Like I did when I silently stood by as the royal household made an official statement, claiming Nora left voluntarily in response to her mother’s interview. As is always the case, they left out any indication of the role they played in forcing her out, remaining neutral instead.
At least I didn’t have to stand by my father’s side as he shared this with the press. But in the week since, the media has certainly been hounding me, asking for a statement.
No longer prone to shun the rules, I give them the response ingrained into my subconscious at this point… No comment.
“Of course, sir.” Bridge stands from his chair, but doesn’t bow or retreat.
“What is it?” I ask, sensing his hesitation.
“It’s just… Carly Hart’s people reached out to see if you were interested in appearing on the morning broadcast at some point to give your own insight into Ms. Tremblay.” He raises a single brow. “To possibly counter what Dr. Harcourt claimed.”
I stare at him for a beat, my expression impassive. “You know as well as I do it’s against protocol for the royal family to give an interview, especially when it would involve information that directly contradicts a statement made by the royal household.”
“That’s true. And I’d probably be fired if anyone knew I’d brought it to your attention. But I thought perhaps you’d want to make up your own mind about this.”
“I’m not allowed to make up my own mind,” I say evenly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to enjoy my breakfast in peace.”
He doesn’t move.
“Did you not hear me? You’re dismissed.”
He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut, straightening.
“What?” I growl.
“With all due respect, sir, I thought you’d fight harder for her.” Then he bows. “Your Highness.” He spins on his heels, hurrying from the room.
I check my appearance in the mirror, making sure my medals are lined up perfectly, nothing out of place on my military dress uniform, my required outfit for the state dinner tonight. I’ve always hated these things. Being forced to make small talk. Feigning interest in things like polo and yachting. Pretending my heart isn’t still in pieces.
But I particularly hate the idea of being required to attend, considering this event is the first step in the royal household’s plan to rekindle any appearance of romance between Caroline DeVries and myself. And like the puppet I am, I’ve gone along with it, despite my conscience screaming at me to fight. No thanks to Bridge’s statement at breakfast this morning that’s played on repeat all day.
I thought you’d fight harder for her.
Hell, I didn’t fight at all. At the first sign of attack, I sacrificed my queen.
But I had to…
Didn’t I?
“Are you ready, sir?” Creed peeks his head into the dressing room of the private quarters where I spent my adolescent years.
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could rewind the clock to the day I looked up from my coffee at a downtown Chicago diner and saw Nora for the first time. To the freedom we felt when we scaled a fence and explored a run-down drive-in. To the way the wind whipped her hair around her face as I drove with the top down on the Wrangler.
To when I was still happy.
To before this life stole that from us.
“Are you okay?” Creed asks.
I open my eyes, pinning him with a glare as I start to push past him. “I’m fine.”
“You’re such a bloody liar, Anders,” he grinds out, grabbing my arm, yanking me to a stop. If it were anyone else, he’d be fired on the spot for his severe break in protocol. But we’ve always been friends first. “Nothing about this is fine. The sooner you stop pretending—”
“I told you!” I tear my arm from his, my eyes on fire. “I don’t want to talk about it!”
He leans into me, not letting me ignore this conversation any longer. “Oh, I know what you’ve said, but I’ve also heard what you don’t say.”
All week, he’s attempted to get me to open up about what happened between Nora and me. And all week, I’ve insisted I’m fine, that our hand was forced and the only option was for her to leave.
“You. Miss. Her.”
I glower at him, chest heaving, jaw tight. Then I throw up my hands. “Of course I miss her!”
“Then why are you still here? Better yet, why isn’t she?”
“You know why! This was the only way!”
He studies me for a beat. “Bullshite, Anders! That’s complete bullshite and you know it. Are you really going to stand there and have me believe the only possible way out of this was to do nothing? To simply let her walk away without a fight?”