16. Claire
CLAIRE
“ G ood morning, Miss Bellamy,” the maid said, as she pulled back the curtains, flooding Claire’s bedroom with morning sunlight.
The prince was gone. He always left early. It was strange how Claire thought of him as “the prince.” He had a name, of course, but to use it implied an intimacy, one she wasn’t quite ready for, despite their sharing a bed. Sitting up, she smiled as the maid brought her her breakfast tray.
“Good morning, Esme. Have they written anything new about me today?” Claire asked.
It was a running joke with the maid — what fresh revelation would appear in the newspapers that morning. What lies built on lies.
“I don’t look at them, Miss Bellamy. They’re just lies,” Esme replied.
The marriage of two Hollywood A-listers was taking up much of the space in the gossip columns that morning, though Claire did find a small article discussing her being sighted at the former royal theater two days previously.
The grand and imposing building stood on the far side of the square, close to the cathedral.
In its heyday it had been the setting for operas and ambitious plays by the greatest literary minds in Europe, but funding cuts had driven it into the ground, and it now stood empty.
Claire and Adrien — for she was resolved to start referring to him as such — had visited it with the thought of turning it into the promised restaurant, and the article was speculating on the matter.
“Well, let them write what they want. I don’t care anymore,” Claire said, tossing the newspaper aside.
The matter of the restaurant was one that had preoccupied her over the previous days.
She was eager to get started on the plans, but delays were hampering her ambitions.
There always seemed to be something to do, and talk of the wedding plans was overtaking the question of her achieving her dreams. Claire had gone along with all this — she’d had no choice but to do so — and yet the more they talked about the future, the more Claire felt uncertain as to her own.
It was one thing to pretend, but quite another to find herself growing ever more confused as to where pretense and reality met.
Having breakfasted, she went in search of Adrien, finding him in his office writing letters.
“I’m sorry I left early,” he said, as she came to sit opposite him. “I have to write these letters — diplomatic things. And for the charity, too.”
Adrien had set up a charity for disadvantaged young people in Flandenne. It gave them opportunities for work and housing, as well as social support and companionship. But the newspapers weren’t interested in such things. They only cared about beer tankards.
“It’s all right. I don’t think Esme should know you stay the night.”
Adrien looked up at Claire and smiled. “It won’t matter soon, I suppose,” he replied.
It was as though he’d forgotten they weren’t really getting married, and yet, for all intents and purposes, they were.
It seemed to Claire as though this was the natural course of things, and that she really was to become the crown princess of Flandenne.
It didn’t help that they’d never really discussed how they’d extract themselves from the arrangement, or what would happen if, and when, they did.
The promise of the restaurant had been absolute, but Claire had thought it would happen sooner, and in a far more businesslike manner.
The fact they’d just spent the night together again clouded matters.
It was making the whole thing very confusing.
Sex and feelings — were they meant to be different?
Claire was attracted to him. But more than that, she was beginning to realize an ever-deepening intimacy between them.
“No… it won’t,” Claire replied. “There was an article in the newspaper about us going to visit the theater.”
She was hoping Adrien would take the hint.
“Oh, yes? What did it say we did?” he asked, looking up at her with a smile.
“Just that we were there, and that they think it might be the place where I open the restaurant.”
Adrien nodded. “I suppose that’s all true — couple went out. That’s the story, isn’t it,” he said, looking somewhat bemused.
It was the story, but that wasn’t exactly the point Claire was trying to make.
She’d wanted him to take the hint — to talk enthusiastically about the opening of the restaurant, and about her plans.
It had barely been mentioned since their arrival in Flandenne.
Not in any concrete way, at least. Claire was itching to get started.
The plans were all in her head — the menus, the décor, the opening night.
This was her dream, and it was what Adrien had promised her in exchange for everything she was now putting up with.
They’d discussed it so often, and yet words were meaningless without action.
“What did you think of the theater — for the restaurant, I mean?” she asked, trying to sound more definite.
She’d dropped enough hints.
Adrien looked up at her and shrugged. “I don’t know… perhaps it was a bit… grand.”
Claire rolled her eyes. She wanted grand, though right now she’d settle for anything. What was the delay?
“We’ll be married before I open the restaurant at this rate,” she said.
It was meant as a joke, but the expression on Adrien’s face now changed, as though there was something he wanted to say. Something he’d been keeping from her.
“Well, actually, my mother wants to bring the date forward. She doesn’t see any reason to delay, and there’s been so much attention on us.”
Claire looked at him in surprise. She’d thought they had longer. Long enough to open the restaurant before quietly going their separate ways. This had all been meant as a ruse. It wasn’t supposed to be real, and yet…
“But getting married… actually getting married… how soon?”
Adrien shrugged. “Soon. Obviously, these things take a little bit of time, and we can delay it as much as possible, but… I hoped you’d be happy.”
Claire felt torn. Adrien had been kind to her.
She liked him. She liked him a lot, but the prospect of actually marrying him called into question everything she’d thought was the case.
How did he feel about it? Did he really want to marry for convenience?
This wasn’t 1850. People no longer married because it was arranged for them or because of rank or class — though to read the newspapers suggested that wasn’t the case for the likes of Adrien and others like him.
But for Claire, marriage meant something.
She wanted to fall in love with the person she was going to marry — otherwise, what was the point?
And yet, his words brought with them a growing realization, too.
Her feelings for Adrien were growing stronger with every passing day.
She’d been attracted to him on board the Aurora.
There was a physical desire between them, one that had continued in Flandenne.
But more so than that, Claire had seen Adrien for who he really was — not the “playboy prince” but a kind and generous man, of integrity and feeling.
A man who cared about his nation and took the prospect of his future responsibilities seriously.
Behind the playboy facade was a man Claire was falling in love with, even as how she dealt with that was somewhat confusing.
“I am, yes. I’m very happy. It’s just… come as a shock, I suppose. On the yacht, it wasn’t meant to happen like this. We’d find the restaurant, then go our separate ways. But this is serious, isn’t it?”
Adrien rose from his desk and came to sit next to her.
There was a black and white photograph of his parents on their wedding day displayed on the shelf behind where he’d been sitting.
The queen looked radiant — full of joy — and the king was smiling broadly.
The love they had for one another was obvious, and it was what Claire wanted, too.
“Do you want it to be?” he asked, taking her hand in his.
“I… I want to be certain,” she said.
She knew it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. It was no answer at all, really. But it was the only answer she could give in that moment, neither wanting to disappoint or encourage him.
“How will you be?” he replied.
Claire smiled at him. “I suppose there’ll come a point where I just know. It wasn’t meant to be like this, was it? But feelings have a habit of springing themselves on us. I don’t know how I feel.”
It was the truth, and if Claire had learned one thing in life, it was that truth was always better than a lie.
“Lies have a nasty habit of getting the better of us,” her dad had once said, and Claire had no intention of being caught out in a lie.
Adrien nodded, drawing his hand back with an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry. I know this is all new for you. It’s going to take some getting used to — for us both. I don’t want to pressure you into anything. It’s just… well, the past few weeks have been… wonderful.”
His words brought a lump to Claire’s throat. She felt the same, but she wasn’t ready to admit as much. Not yet, at least. Certainly, meeting Adrien had proved life changing, but until she was certain, a doubt persisted.
“I certainly never thought I’d meet a prince who’d ask me to marry him. Even if it is just for show.”
Adrien smiled. “But that’s the point. It doesn’t have to be just for show. It can be something more if you want it to be.”
Was he being serious, or was he clutching at straws?
Despite her growing feelings for him, Claire still wondered if she could trust what he was saying.
The incident with the beer tankard had been amusing, but it had shown just how the prince could still behave — as though nothing else really mattered.
Had he given her a second thought as he made an embarrassment of himself?
“There’s still so much to work out,” she said. “And there’s the restaurant, too. That’s why I came to Flandenne, isn’t it? For the restaurant.”
She was repeating herself now, but she wanted Adrien to understand just how important this was to her.
It meant everything. She had a dream — a dream she’d previously thought impossible.
Meeting Adrien had changed that, and while there was no doubting her growing feelings for him, Claire had to be absolutely certain those feelings weren’t just the result of his promises to her.
She didn’t want those dreams to be brushed aside — dismissed for the possibility of something that was, in his eyes, greater.
“I know, and I’m going to make sure it happens. But my mother wants things to move quicker than I’d thought they would. We might not have a choice,” he replied.
Claire sighed. If the choice had already been made, she’d have to think carefully — a life in the spotlight, her every move questioned. Could a princess really own her own restaurant and work as she’d always been used to working? There were so many questions — so many uncertainties.
“Why can’t it just be about us? Our wedding, our future, our happiness?”
Claire knew she was being na?ve. It would never just be about them. That was the point. He looked at her sympathetically.
“I’d understand if you wanted to leave,” he said.
“I don’t want to leave. But I don’t want to be in a straitjacket, either. I can’t live my life in a bubble. I’ve got to do something. That’s why the restaurant means so much to me.”
She wanted to impress the importance of it on him.
Adrien was used to having whatever he wanted, when he wanted it.
He didn’t have to work for what his heart desired.
But for Claire, matters were different. She’d always worked for the things she had.
It mattered to her, and she knew an idle life wasn’t for her.
“I know it does. And I promise we’ll make it happen. But please… won’t you think about what I’ve said?
Claire nodded. She’d thought of little else but Adrien and the promise he’d made her on the Aurora.
Na?vely, she’d thought it would be easy, but with the date of the wedding looming, and the restaurant still seemingly out of reach, she felt as though she’d come to a crossroads, and whichever way she turned would determine the rest of her life.