Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A ZAR WAS CHANGING the rules on her.
Somehow he’d decided, the morning after she’d regained her memories, that what had happened in Arizona—the denigration of her character, the belief that she’d been playing him against Nick, deliberately inciting his jealousy, and that she’d even gone as far as to choose Nick over him—was merely a bump in the road they could overcome.
At first she’d been nonplussed, to the point of speechlessness. Then angry—because how dared he? But now, in the third week since regaining her memories, Eden had become intensely curious as to why and how he believed they could carry on as if he hadn’t levelled the vilest of accusations at her. As to how long he intended to try and sweep her off her feet every time she so much as cleared her throat to address the giant elephant in the room.
So far, he’d taken her to every cheesy tourist spot in San Maribet and Cartana, eagerly couching it as ‘the honeymoon phase’ for the palace. He’d also shown her out-of-the-way haunts he’d visited as a boy with his father, like the private cave two mountains over from the mountain retreat where they’d spent their wedding night.
Today, the spectacular six-course meal he’d arranged there, across the lake on an expertly crafted royal raft, lit only with phosphorescence, was so magical Eden wasn’t sure she’d taken a full breath throughout. And now, after dinner he offered revelations when she asked why only his father had featured in these outings. Revelations she would have thought unbidden if not for the strained look on his face that told her this too had a purpose. One she couldn’t immediately grasp.
‘If you haven’t noticed already, my mother doesn’t care about appearances,’ he said. ‘Her only abiding desire is to further her own interests.’
She flinched at the caustic words. She opened her mouth, to say what she didn’t know. But he shook his head, pre-empting her.
‘Don’t bother with platitudes. I have recognised and accepted that ours will never be the normal mother and son relationship. And in all these years nothing has prompted me to believe otherwise. She is what she is.’
She frowned, not entirely sure why his words sent jagged unease through her. Perhaps it was because while her situation with her own mother bore some similarities to his, she hadn’t given up on forming some semblance of a relationship with her, whereas it sounded as if Azar had.
Was that so he could control never being hurt again? Did that control extend to every area of his life. To her?
‘So, in essence, where Max is concerned, you’re following in your father’s footsteps?’
His mouth twitched—not with cynicism at her observation, but with something close to fondness. ‘He said the same thing when I broke the news about Max.’ Then all traces of humour were whittled away. ‘And I cannot fault him. If he did one thing right, it was ensuring my brothers and I forged a relationship—despite all the opposition. I don’t intend to allow anything to stand in the way of what I mean to achieve.’
Something urgent pushed her to test that control. ‘With Max, and probably with me, but not with your mother?’ When his jaw tightened, she continued. ‘You speak as if that’s set in stone. As if you can’t change things even if you truly want to.’ He sent her a speaking look that made heat flare into her face and her heart lurch. ‘It’s not the same,’ she defended hotly.
Expecting an imperious counter argument, she was surprised, then vastly troubled, when he finally nodded. ‘It’s not. Because while I accepted the way things were with her even before I turned ten years old, I’m not doing the same with you.’
She shook her head. ‘You can’t just command things to be the way you want, you know?’
His nostrils flared, and in the glowing lights around them he resembled a fallen angel, intent on bending rules and kingdoms to his will.
After a moment, he reached out. ‘Get better quickly, tesoro . Then we can joust on a more even battlefield.’
I want to fight now.
But she held her tongue, because this place he’d brought her to, one that was special to him and his father, was wreaking sweet magic on her. She was loath to spoil it with disagreement. And also, deep down, the promise of fighting him for what he wanted sent too large a thrill through her.
For the two nights in a row after that, when the magic wrapped tighter, she came within a whisker of succumbing to the goodnight kiss he brushed over her lips, to the intensity in his gaze when he stared down at her, willing her to take things a step further. Or perhaps a step back, so she would be in his bed?
The clawing need when that happened felt like an uphill battle she was doomed to lose.
Caught in deep thought on just how she could save this heart of hers, which seemed to be flinging itself headlong, with zero caution, into the hands of a man she still couldn’t trust to treasure it, Eden forgot all about protocol as she opened the door to her father-in-law’s living room to retrieve her exuberant child and take him for his afternoon nap.
King Alfonso, who’d finally got rid of his pneumonia and was remarkably stronger, insisted he was fit enough to withstand Max’s frenetic pace, but Eden knew he needed a day or two between Max’s visits.
‘Don’t think I can’t see it, mi hijo .’
Eden stopped in her tracks. King Alfonso was talking to Azar.
She’d had no idea Azar would be there—and honestly, she’d been cowardly and avoided him for most of the last few days.
She feared she was falling in love with her husband, despite the insurmountable barriers between them. Her heart was a foolish organ, she’d decided upon waking this morning. And it needed a serious time out.
She needed to walk away. If nothing else, she could trust that Azar would ensure Max didn’t tire his grandfather.
‘See what?’ Azar replied.
Her feet stalled, her heart thumping wildly.
‘The strain between you and your wife. Put on a show for the public, but you can’t fool me. I know the challenges of dealing with an unhappy wife, remember? This path you’re on…leaving things to fester…it’ll only lead to further strife.’
‘You don’t need to worry about us. We’re making it work.’
His father snorted, then coughed for a few minutes before chuckling. ‘You’ve never been one to bury your head in the sand, Azar. That you insist on doing so now makes me think you’re afraid.’
‘Afraid?’ he scoffed. ‘Because I don’t subscribe to some false notion of baring myself wide open in order to satisfy someone’s grand expectations?’
‘Tell me what hiding your true feelings has achieved for you?’
‘Papá…’
‘You’re a skilled negotiator in diplomacy and lately, with the help of your wife, very skilled at getting the whole world to fall in love with our beautiful kingdom. But you’re terrible at seeing what’s right in front of your face. Do the right thing. Drop the pretence and be straight with her,’ he warned.
‘Doing “the right thing” is one thing. Strangling a relationship with unwanted emotion is quite another.’
Through the dull roaring in her ears, Eden heard the former King sigh. ‘I should’ve insisted your mother do better with you, shouldn’t I? Should’ve put a stop that silly rivalry before you and your brothers were caused irreparable damage.’
Tense silence. Then, ‘What’s done is done. There’s no point dwelling in the past,’ Azar said.
She didn’t need to be in the room to know he was pacing. He’d be hating not being able to control the whole nonsensical notion of love his father was pushing on him.
A notion he was dismissing out of hand.
‘Is it done when it’s affecting your future? Wake up, Azar, before it’s too late.’
Something she recognised as hope shrivelled within her as Azar’s bitter laugh caught her right in the chest, snagging hard at a very soft spot.
‘I appreciate the advice, Papá, but for the sake of my son I can’t—won’t—risk upsetting the status quo.’
‘Not even if it’ll bring you greater happiness?’ his father pressed, even though his voice had weakened with fatigue.
The long stretch of silence wrecked her to her core.
Then, ‘I haven’t seen any evidence that it’ll be worth it. So, no. Things between my wife and I will stay the same.’
An imperious declaration that completely shattered her, and her breath caught on stifled sobs as she stumbled away towards the privacy of her suite.
* * *
‘I’ve arranged to visit my mother. Max and I are leaving in three days.’
His espresso cup froze halfway to his mouth. ‘When was this decided and why am I only hearing of it now?’
She was doing that thing again—staring at his chest instead of meeting his gaze.
The Great Unnerving—as he’d taken to calling the sensation inside him which had only intensified since his father’s wholly unsolicited counselling—surged higher. At this rate he’d be completely engulfed, would drown without knowing what exactly was killing him.
Really? You don’t know?
‘I spoke with her last night. You know she’s never met Max. And now, thanks to you, she’s able to host us.’
There was no sarcasm or rancour in her voice—and, yes, he wished his magnanimity wasn’t returning to bite him in the behind in the form of facilitating this separation.
‘And how will your sudden absence be explained?’ he rallied.
She shrugged. ‘Get the palace to spin something. They’ve done an exemplary job for the past few months, haven’t they?’
‘They may well have done—you seem to have them in the palm of your hand, after all. But even if I agree to you going, I’m not sure I want to be parted from Max.’
It was a purely selfish, rash means of ensuring she returned. Because for a blind minute he couldn’t cast off the notion that if he let them go he would never see them again.
Now she met his gaze—with fire and brimstone.
‘You think I’m going to leave my son behind? I will fight you to the ends of the earth before that happens. I dare you to try it!’
For the second time in his life he knew the meaning of blazing jealousy. Of feeling control slipping through his fingers. The other time had been when he’d seen her with Nick. When he’d assumed—falsely, as he was now accepting—that her interest in him was anything but platonic.
The wife and Queen he’d lived with these last months, had watched interact with his people—several of whom were falling over themselves to gain her friendship—even deal with his mother, had too much integrity to be putting on an act. She wore her true emotions on her sleeve.
Now he was jealous of his own son.
He clenched his teeth as shame whistled through him. The whole situation was shaming him, emphasising just how dependent he’d become on seeing her—seeing them —at his table every morning and night. On knowing she was within reach, even if she’d taken to avoiding him more effectively in the last few days.
Even while he despised that uncontrollable dependency, he knew he needed it. More than he’d needed anything for a very long time.
Sí , it vastly contributed to that Great Unnerving.
‘How long do you propose to be away?’
The subject of her leaving without his son was closed. He couldn’t separate them any more than he could stop breathing.
Relief flashed across her beautiful eyes—and, yes, he despised that too.
‘Then do something about it.’
He pushed his father’s voice out of his head in time to offer the most selfless boon he could. ‘Two weeks,’ he said.
She frowned. ‘What?’
‘You have two weeks. I’ll find an explanation for your absence.’
She shook her head. ‘One month.’
His lungs flattened, suffocating him. ‘Absolutely out of the question.’
She glared at him, rose from her chair and turned away, her arms wrapped around herself. ‘Three weeks. And I’ll throw in some diplomatic work. I seem to know my way around that well enough by now.’
Ice filled his veins. ‘You really want to get away that badly?’
Her eyes shadowed, then she shrugged and looked away again. ‘I’m not ready to write off any relationship with my mother. I’m going, Azar.’
And, as much as it ravaged him, he hung his hopes on that integrity and let her go.
* * *
Eden had been half afraid that the camera had lied about the transformation she’d seen in her mother during their video calls.
But, whether it was the Californian sun that seemed to have taken years off her or an unknown root cause, Liv Moss looked miles better than Eden had seen her in ages.
The fact that there was no self-serving man there, offering false promises and responsible for her mother’s warm smile when she threw the doors of her Azar-gifted mansion open? Even better still.
And perhaps her newfound self-esteem and emotional clarity was what kept Liv from probing too deeply when Eden changed the subject every time she tried to talk about Azar.
Sadly, it didn’t last very long.
Five days of exploring the quiet exclusive Santa Barbara beaches with Max and only a handful of bodyguards in tow was all she got before her mother cornered her one evening, while Max played with his toys.
She delved right in. ‘You’re not talking to your husband. Why?’
Eden’s grimace earned her a wry glance. She scrambled for myriad excuses. But did she really want to rekindle a relationship with her mother and yet hide such an important aspect of her life?
No.
Her gaze flicked to Max, to the soft features already such a powerful reminder of his father that she wondered how she’d believed he was anyone else’s but Azar’s.
In the end, the facts she hadn’t wanted to admit to herself came tumbling out.
‘He doesn’t want me. He only married me because of his son. I thought it would be enough to do it for Max’s sake, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough in the long run.’
‘Of course you know. Or you wouldn’t be here,’ Liv said briskly.
‘What—?’ she started, but her mother was shaking her head.
‘And it’s absolutely fine to feel that way. You shouldn’t settle for less than you deserve. But, sweetheart, I think you’re wrong.’
Her insides lurched. She wished to be wrong. ‘Why?’ she asked anyway.
‘Because it’s the twenty-first century, Eden. And, as much as respectability means to these people, they don’t need to marry someone to validate their claims. Even if they do, courting scandal by stepping out of their marriage vows will only get them more attention. And these days any form of attention can be spun into good attention. He married you because he wanted you and his son. Don’t make hasty decisions before you find out. I made the opposite mistake with your father. I wish I’d seen the light much sooner than I did.’
The echoes of her mother’s pain triggered memories of the most distressing period of their lives and made her prod deeper. ‘I’m sorry about that. But what about the other…?’
Her mother gave her a sad smile. ‘The other men I tried to replace your father with?’
At Eden’s hesitant nod, her mother swallowed, then blinked back a surge of tears.
‘Because they made me forget my pain for a while, and some of them even made me feel loved. But it was never the real thing.’ She reached across and grasped Eden’s hand, the lighter shade of the green eyes she’d inherited pierced her with its earnest intensity. ‘If you have a chance at the real thing, don’t walk away from it, honey. You’ll regret it, and if you’re not lucky it’ll be far too late to do anything about it.’
‘And if it’s not the real thing?’
Her mother sagged back in her chair, but the look in her eyes never wavered. ‘If it’s not, and you decide to walk away, don’t settle for second and third best. Don’t make my mistake. Because you’ll lose more than yourself.’ Her eyes flicked to Max, her eyes filling when they returned to Eden. ‘You’ll miss the chance to feel an equally meaningful kind of love. I missed a lot with you, sweetheart. And for that I’m sorry. I know I don’t have the right to ask but…can we start over? I would very much like to stay in both your lives.’
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Eden nodded. Her hands were shaking as they gripped her mother’s. If nothing else, she would repair this vital relationship with her mother, regain everything she’d lost when her father had let them both down.
‘I would like that very much, Mom.’
As her mother threw her arms around her, salving a wound left far too long unattended, Eden couldn’t shake the feeling that in his own way, Azar had facilitated this for her. Even while his own tumultuous relationship with his mother festered.
‘I haven’t seen any evidence that it’ll be worth it. So, no. Things between my wife and I will stay the same.’
She swallowed another wave of hurt at Azar’s devastating words. But was her mother right? Was she writing something off that was potentially salvageable? Could she stand having her heart crushed by pursuing a subject her husband had already ruled on?
As if intuiting her thoughts, Max toddled over, holding out the sleek phone Eden had given him to play with. ‘Papá.’
Her heart lurched, and for a second she believed— hoped —Azar was calling. When she realised her child was making a demand, asking to call his father, her chest squeezed.
Azar had video called Max every evening before his bedtime. And while he remained cordial with her, she’d read the intent in his eyes. Her three weeks were counting down. And she suspected he wouldn’t give her a second longer.
Why did that thought send fireworks through her when she needed to be standing her ground?
But what if that ground wasn’t as cold and desolate as she had initially believed? What if there were priceless gems to be discovered if she dared to dig deeper?
‘Papá,’ Max insisted, his bottom lip threatening a full-on wobble if his demands weren’t met.
Before she could decide, her mother reached for the phone.
‘Let me do it.’
Her tears had receded, a sheen of mischief taking their place.
‘Why?’ Eden asked a little warily.
Liv smiled. ‘Just a little experiment to see how the land lies. Max gets to talk to his father, and you get to take a long bath…think about what you truly want. Win-win.’
She made shooing motions and Eden found herself heeding them. But just before leaving the vast living room she paused, taking care to remain out of sight as her mother dialled the first number in the contacts list.
‘Liv? Where’s Eden?’ he demanded.
It was imperious, but she heard the sharp edge she knew well now. The edge that said he wasn’t as in control as he portrayed.
‘She’s occupied with something else. But your son wanted to talk to you so I—’
‘Occupied with what?’ Azar interrupted sharply.
Eden’s heart jumped at the frantic disgruntlement in his voice.
‘Papá!’
‘Here’s Max now. Enjoy your call.’
Her mother sailed on smilingly, securing Max in his highchair, then walked away before Azar could question her further. Liv rounded the corner where Eden stood, hiding an enigmatic smile.
‘Just as I thought,’ Liv murmured.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, her heart still galloping. ‘What are you doing?’
Her mother cupped her cheek. ‘Nothing. Go, honey. Have your bath.’
She went, torn between interrogating her mother and not wanting to know what she meant.
Because she didn ’t want to hope.
* * *
For the first time in his life Azar wished the palace machinery had failed. But they’d expertly mixed enough public engagements into the three weeks he’d grudgingly granted for Eden’s trip for it to be hailed a triumph as she met with first ladies, industry experts and charitable organisations. Her popularity already on a steep upward trajectory before she’d left, had now gone stratospheric. Even more tourists were flooding into Cartana, wanting to breathe the same air as its royal couple.
And his wife didn’t display a single crumb of homesickness. Hell, she seemed to be positively enjoying herself, speaking about Cartana with a poise, charm and expertise that had made his jaw drop and his palace council fall over themselves in rhapsodies.
It’s happening despite you never making your kingdom her home. You’ve pushed her away…just like you were pushed away.
With every glimpse of her, and with every brief, stilted conversation before she passed the phone to Max, he felt the distance between them stretch wider. A mere ten days had felt like six lifetimes. And with each second the drum that beat into him, telling him that he should be doing something wouldn’t relent.
‘What are you going to do?’ Teo asked, for the dozenth time.
His brothers had turned up to spend some precious time with their father. And, while he didn’t begrudge them a single minute of that time, he wished they’d find someone else to pester while their father was resting.
He suppressed the urge to snap at them, demand to be left alone, as he looked up from his phone— another call unanswered by Eden —and realised his hand was shaking.
Again.
Dios mio , she was the only woman to make him tremble so damn much. She drilled holes in his control without even trying. And, astonishingly, his heart—his soul—was making peace with the fact that he would relinquish that control if it meant having her… keeping her.
‘Why do you care?’ he lashed out.
Teo looked momentarily pained, an expression that pierced regret through Azar before the all-encompassing terror reclaimed his whole being.
‘Look, it’s clear to everyone that you miss your family. Even I miss Max. I’ve grown fond of the little rascal. And your wife isn’t half bad either. You can bury your head in the sand about it if you want, but lately you’ve seemed…’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know…less sour-faced? Passably tolerable?’
‘Seriously. Shut up, Teo,’ Valenti growled from his position of solemn watchfulness in the corner.
Unflinching, Teo sauntered over with glasses of the premium cognac he’d poured and handed them out, watching, with one brow arched as Azar downed his in one go.
‘I’m going out on a limb here, so bear with me,’ he mused, ignoring Valenti’s venomous look. ‘If this is still about Nick and what happened in Arizona, you need to handle it quickly.’
‘Teo…’
He ignored his twin. ‘You chose to overlook his faults and, while he was great at hiding them, he wasn’t that good. So what I’m saying is, are you willing to lose your family over whatever is holding you back?’
Azar had jack-knifed in his seat when Teo started talking, but now the bracing words made his insides shrivel. Because it really was that simple. And the answer was as clear as the blue skies outside his window.
He wanted her. He needed her.
And unless he took careful, calculated steps, he might lose everything.
So he stood, ignoring his brothers’ probing stares, and walked out.
Unfortunately, a whole day later he, the clever strategist everyone claimed him to be, hadn’t devised an effective strategy to win his wife. Instead, he was reduced to texting her. With idiotic hands that wouldn’t stop shaking.
You’re ignoring me.
The words made him seethe, and they terrified him.
A whole five minutes passed, then:
You’re a king, with realms of adoring subjects. You’ll survive.
He gritted his teeth, even as his belly swooped with fear. He looked around the room—her suite, which he’d taken to wandering into because her scent lingered in the air. And he found he needed that, too.
I won’t survive without you…
He started to type the words, then quickly deleted them. Carefully. Because accidentally sending it would…would…
What?
Reveal, once and for all, the true, fathomless depths of his feelings? Reveal that his aberrant outburst in Arizona had been the unstable precursor of what he hadn’t recognised was his love and obsession for her? That he would give up everything, including his cursed control, if she would forgive him and love him back?
He swallowed…blinked hard as the truth settled deep and immovable in his heart.
Come home. Please.
Delete. Delete. Delete.
Come home, por favor.
Right. Because begging in his father tongue was less emasculating? Why not simply text his true feelings too and be done with it?
He paced faster, eyes glued to the screen, then froze when the speech bubble appeared.
We agreed a time and duration for my trip. What’s changed?
Everything , his senses screamed.
Then he forced himself to stop. Think.
He’d shamed and rejected her publicly once. Shouldn’t he make amends the same way?
Dragging himself from her suite, he entered the living room where his brothers were enjoying a nightcap.
When Azar flicked Valenti a glance he was waiting, one eyebrow quirked.
‘What do you need?’
About to shake his head, to send them both away so he could deal with this alone, he felt a jagged thought shimmer into life. Slowly it took shape and solidified.
It was a risk. But if there ever was a time when being King should count for something, surely it was now? When his very life was on the line. Because now he’d had a taste of what the rest of his life might look like, he was confident he wouldn’t make it.
‘I need you to find someone and bring them to me. As soon as you can.’
Valenti barely blinked before he nodded. ‘Give me a name.’
* * *
Another three days passed before Eden accepted that she couldn’t stay away the full three weeks with the subject of where she stood in her marriage, in her heart, hanging over her head.
Maybe she could reach him some other way.
She called her personal assistant.
‘We never nailed down my interview with Rachel Mallory. Can we make it happen while I’m here?’
‘Leave it with me, Your Majesty.’
Eden wasn’t expecting the response she received when her private secretary returned her call five minutes later.
‘Your Majesty, it looks like Miss Mallory won’t be available to interview you.’
She wasn’t so full of herself that she was upset by it, but she was surprised.
About to shrug it off, she stopped when her assistant added, ‘But you might see her in Cartana after we return. She’s been summoned by His Majesty for an interview due to air tomorrow night.’
Eden’s eyes goggled, her emotions running riot. ‘What? She’s in Cartana? Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure, Your Majesty.’
Azar was giving a public interview? For what purpose? His father’s condition hadn’t changed. The former Queen hadn’t done anything scandalous enough to require managed publicity.
The King of Cartana giving a public interview was a big deal…
Surely he wouldn’t be so cruel as to end their marriage by giving a world exclusive?
Hand shaking, she dialled Azar’s number. It rang and rang. Then went to voicemail. The idea that he was paying her back for her near-silent treatment seared her heart.
Unwilling to leave a message when every fibre of her being shook she tried texting instead.
I’m not sure what’s going on, but I hear you’re giving an interview? Azar…if this has anything to do with us…for the sake of Max…call me.
Dear Lord, could she sound any more desperate?
Hastily deleting it, she replaced it with a less emotive message.
We need to talk. Call me.
Then she watched as the speech bubble rippled for a heart-stopping twenty seconds before disappearing.
Fury rising to mingle with the anguish of her heart cracking, she took a deep breath and dialled his number again. Listened to the ring tone with her fingers wrapped tight around the device.
Just when she thought he’d ignore that too, the call connected.
But it wasn’t Azar who answered.
‘Good afternoon, Your Majesty.’
‘Put me through to him, Gaspar.’
A taut pause. Then, ‘I’m afraid His Majesty is indisposed. Perhaps I can pass on a message?’
Her heart cracked wider. When her legs lost power, she sank to the side of the bed.
‘It’s eight in the morning. I know he’s about to sit down to breakfast and I know he’s deliberately avoiding me. Put me on speaker so he can hear me.’
‘Your Majesty—’
‘Do it, Gaspar. I don’t care if the whole world can hear me.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
The fact that he complied forced another spike into her heart. But she scrounged up the last bit of her composure.
‘I’m going to keep this simple, Azar. I know you don’t want me. And you can do whatever you want to me, but if you do anything to hurt my son with this interview I’ll never forgive you. I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life. Do you hear me?’
She hated the quivering in her voice, but she’d got her message through.
And when she heard a muted rough exhalation she knew he’d heard it loud and clear.
Yet ending that call felt as if she’d stopped her own heart from beating.