33. “Clarity” - Zedd Foxes
“Clarity” - Zedd + Foxes
Roberts has arranged for a car to be at the airport, waiting to pick me up. It isn’t until I’m sitting in the back of the SUV that the implication of what I’m about to do hits me.
I haven’t been back to the palace since I was nearly shot and killed there. When I close my eyes, I can still hear the screams and smell the fear in the air. They’ve been improving security since then, but what if it’s not enough?
My fears are ridiculous. It’s only a matter of time until William is behind bars, and there will be more than enough PPOs around to protect me should anything happen. I take a deep breath and smooth my skirt.
Everything is going to be fine.
I don’t know what I expected being back in the palace would feel like, but it wasn’t this. Everything is as normal as life in a palace can be. It’s like no one got the memo that the monarch survived multiple attempts on her life and is no longer staying under this roof.
Staff members bustle through the halls like their job is on the line if they don’t move in a fast trot. The cluster of black suits surrounding me draws more attention than I do, and when someone recognizes whom they are protecting, they immediately stop what they’re doing and bow their heads.
I’ve asked to be escorted to my suite. From there, I will figure out how to let the people know that I’m back and that nothing is going to keep me from serving them.
The residential wing is still under major construction, although Roberts assures me all the security measures are already in place. The rest is simply cosmetic repairs.
The number of staff members in the halls declines as we enter the corridor leading to my private living quarters.
I step inside, and even though it’s been nearly a month since I’ve been here, it’s as if nothing has changed.
Fresh flowers dot every surface like always.
Either someone has been replacing them throughout my absence or Roberts sent word that we were on our way.
Rather than the musty, stale smell you expect when a place has been closed up for a while, the air in here is clean, fresh, and heavy with florals. I walk into the bedroom, expecting to feel joy upon seeing my own bed again, but a wave of melancholy washes over me instead.
Moving back in here means moving out of Henry’s flat. No more sleeping on his sheets or running into him in the kitchen as we’re both getting our coffee. No more game nights or movies in the home theater. It’s time to get back to my normal life.
A housemaid walks out of the bathroom and startles when she sees me. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.” She bobs into a curtsy. “I didn’t realize you’d arrived.”
I smile and set my handbag on the bed. “The suite looks lovely. Thank you.”
Her face brightens. “Would you like for me to let Lord Henry know you’re here?”
My smile melts away. “Henry? He’s at the palace?”
“He’s been here for a few days, popping in and out.”
I’m sure the confusion must be evident in my expression, so I do my best to pull my features back to neutral. “I think it might be better if I surprise him, don’t you?”
“Of course, ma’am,” she says. “Would you like for me to locate him?”
“That would be great.”
She gives another curtsy and leaves the room.
What in the bloody hell is Henry doing at the palace? I was under the impression he had business in Wesbourne. Lord knows he has enough companies headquartered at the Atlantis. So what could he possibly have to do here?
A prickle of unease shimmies down my spine. Things aren’t adding up.
Maybe he’s simply overseeing the renovations at the palace, preparing to implement our new plans for the Royal Estate.
Relief nearly cripples me as the idea takes hold.
I was on the verge of spinning a new narrative, one that didn’t paint Henry in a flattering light.
Trusting him is proving harder than I anticipated.
I take a quick shower. When I step out of the bathroom, the same housemaid is waiting for me in the sitting room. Her name tag reads Julia.
“I’ve located his lordship, ma’am. I can take you to him if you’re ready.”
I’m ready, all right. Ready to rip that smug head from Henry’s shoulders for leaving me in London without a single word about what he’s up to. I’ve had time since I learned he was here to realize that, despite how relieved I feel, I’m also upset by the way he treated me. Again.
We walk down several more corridors in the residential wing, proving my theory about him overseeing the renovations. The maid stops and motions to a door in a hallway I’m unfamiliar with. “I believe he’s in there, ma’am.”
I thank her and step through the door into a large room hung with paint cloths.
You’d think after having lived in the palace for over six months and having spent a good portion of my childhood here, I’d be more familiar with the place, but there are still plenty of rooms I’ve never seen, this being one of them.
It’s dark in here, the only light coming from the three arched floor-to-ceiling windows.
They must be at least fifteen feet tall.
The furniture has been covered and moved to the center of the room, away from the exterior walls.
It appears to be a large hall or ballroom, but evidently one that isn’t used much, given my unfamiliarity with it.
It must be where the construction teams are focusing their current efforts.
I move farther into the room, wondering if maybe the maid got it wrong. I don’t see Henry anywhere, although the space appears to branch out in both directions in a T shape. The air smells sharply metallic, but I don’t hear the sound of tools or people talking. Is everyone on a break right now?
“Henry?” I call out. The corner of a framed painting catches my eye. It’s propped against a nearby table, both covered by drop cloths. I lift the cloth, and the former Queen Helena stares back at me. As I drop it back into place, it releases a cloud of dust into the air.
Coughing, I wave it away from my face. “Henry?” I try again. I’m about to turn back to the door when he appears from one of the side wings.
“Celia? What the hell are you doing here?” He stops once he sees me, his form silhouetted by the windows behind him. He glances down the other wing of the room before returning his gaze to me.
It hasn’t even been that long since we last saw each other, but god am I thirsty for a drink of him. He’s as gorgeous as ever in a blue suit, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. The sun cuts a sharp shadow across that jawline I once despised for its effect on me.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, walking toward him.
Something I can’t identify crosses his face. He reaches for my hands and tugs me against him. His breath is warm on my neck where he nuzzles it, his faint stubble causing goosebumps to form down my back. “What are you doing here?” he asks again, quieter this time. “You’re supposed to be in London.”
“Wesbourne needs me. I can’t stay locked up forever.” My anger is already seeping away. “Why didn’t you tell me you were at the palace?”
“I haven’t just been here,” he says. “I planned to be back in London the same day, but things kept cropping up.”
I rise up on tiptoes to press my lips against his. “I missed you.”
He smiles and returns my chaste kiss, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve walked in on something.
“I missed you, too,” he says into my hair before pulling back to look at my face. “But it’s dangerous for you to be here.”
“Let’s not have that fight again. Please?” I lock my fingers together behind his neck. “Roberts does an amazing job, and I did everything he said.” With the exception of staying in London.
Henry takes a deep breath and glances behind me again. When he looks back at me, a smile is folded into the creases around his eyes. “So a leopard can change its spots?”
I smack his arm. “I can follow directions. As long as they don’t interfere with my own plans.”
One side of his mouth jerks upward as if pulled by a marionette string. “That sounds more like it.” He leans down to rub the side of his stubbly jaw against my neck.
I squirm to get away. “I should have trusted you a long time ago. If I had, Tundra might not have gotten sick.” I plan to head to the vet’s as soon as I’m done here.
Henry gathers me close, stroking my back in warm, even movements. “You can’t know how things might have turned out. William would probably have found another way to get to you.”
He releases my waist, but only to slide both hands around my jaw, cupping it and pulling me closer to him.
His mouth is warm and tastes like spearmint, and I’m immediately on a bullet train to a raging libido.
He brushes his tongue against mine. I groan, and he moves one hand to my hip to keep me from sinking to the floor.
Why did I wait so long to do this? We wasted so much time. Now, when I’m about to move out of his penthouse, I finally come to my senses. What a waste of a perfectly good shower.
“Take me to bed and do dirty things to me,” I say.
He chuckles into my ear. “Yes, ma’am.”
I gasp when he nips my earlobe. “Promise you’re not going to run away again?”
“Promise,” he whispers. “I never wanted to run, you know.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He pulls back so I can see the furrows in his brow. “I’ve been yours since the day we met.”
I offer him a knowing smirk. “We met when we were babies.”
“You were a baby. I was a strapping two-year-old.”
My laugh trips out as a snort. “Strapping? What are you, eighty years old?”
He pinches my waist, which makes me bend in half to avoid his tickling fingers. “Plenty of people say ‘strapping.’”
“Not those born in this century. Besides, you don’t remember meeting me for the first time.”
“Sure I do. You were wearing a poofy lace dress. I thought you looked like a cake.”
I gape at him and jab my fingers into his armpits. He grins and grabs my wrists.
“The first time I saw you, I thought you belonged to me,” he says. “When I turned five, my mum told me the truth.”
I smile and run my thumbs over those cheekbones that have turned me into a puddle more than once. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I belonged to you.”
Henry leans down to capture my mouth once more. Is this what normal people get to experience all the time? I’m not just floating on clouds—I am soaring.
A sound like clapping chops through the fluffy whiteness of my happiness. I block it out to get more of Henry, but he must think it’s worthy of attention, because he breaks off the kiss. I feel him stiffen, so I turn around to see what he’s looking at.
The Duke of Sutherland is walking toward us, clapping his hands and wearing a smile that could shrivel the bravest of hearts. “Congratulations. It’s about time, isn’t it?” he says.
A chill permeates my skin and doesn’t stop until it reaches my bones.