Chapter Fourteen #2
So that was her center of strength. “You,” she murmured, spreading her hands over her belly as she finally made her way to Alex’s office.
His assistant nodded at her approach. “You may go right in, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. Nerves battled, reminding her of a time early on when she’d been so nervous to be alone with him.
Nervous because she didn’t know how to read him.
Nervous because she thought he was ridiculously handsome.
Nervous because she had been afraid one wrong move would ruin everything.
But he’d always made sure she knew she could not ruin things. At every step in their courtship, he’d always assured her she was exactly what he wanted, even if he hadn’t chosen her.
Oh, how that had changed. Now he’d accused her of destroying him.
She tried to fan the little flicker of irritation. Anger would stand against him better than nerves. Anger was better than pathetic, desperate love.
Or was it? Perhaps anger was the weapon, the bludgeon.
That thought left her feeling hollowed out, bereft all over again. She stepped into his office not knowing how to be, because she so badly needed things from him he wasn’t ready to give, and she wanted to punish and save him from that reality.
When had life gotten so damn messy?
He stood behind his desk, hands clasped behind his back. Tall. Severe. Just like the first time she’d met him. His dark eyes unreadable.
But she had seen them clouded with passion, direct with fury, lost, sad.
She had seen every emotion in his eyes, no matter how hard he’d tried to hide them.
So she wanted to rush over to him as Evelyne had done on Gabriel’s arrival last night.
She wanted to cry—at least that she could blame on hormones.
But she stood across from him, frozen to the spot because he surveyed her with that detached calm that left her feeling travel-frazzled even after her bath.
I am so glad to see you in one piece. I am so proud you handled this the way you did. Your country will love you because you are a good king, but I love you because you are a good man.
All words she might have tried to say if her throat wasn’t so tight.
“Good morning, Ines. I am glad you are back.”
She blinked. Those were not exactly the words she’d been expecting. They hadn’t exactly left on happy terms, so it worried her that he was glad she was back. Had he come up with some horrible new plan that would crush her?
She cleared her throat. “I am glad to be back. Gabriel’s parents were more than kind, but I prefer…” Home. Not just this place, but a place she knew he was. Safe and sound and home. “I have approved the pregnancy announcement.”
“Excellent. It will go out at once.”
Ines nodded, feeling little more than adrift. Why was she here? She wanted to scream that at him. And yet all she did was stand here, waiting for him to speak.
He picked up something from his desk. A little notepad. She could see he’d written some things in his blunt but elegant hand. He crossed to her and held it out.
“I have made you a list, Ines.”
“A list…” He’d successfully stopped a revolution, and he had a list for her. A list when he’d told Jonet, or rather his assistant to Jonet, this was some urgent matter. She took the outstretched pad of paper, but she couldn’t quite make herself look down at it.
She couldn’t take her gaze off him when he was whole and in one piece and something was just off. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.
“It is a list of things we must accomplish before the baby is born,” he said regally, perhaps noticing she wasn’t reading.
He was giving her a…to-do list. Perhaps to keep her busy and away from him? Maybe that was for the best. But she couldn’t seem to look at it. Not when he was within reach. Not when…there was something in his eyes she didn’t recognize, didn’t think she’d ever seen.
It terrified her. What if this was it? The end of the line. He’d stopped a revolution and now he’d stop her.
No. He doesn’t get to stop you loving him.
“I have also thought long and hard about it,” he continued, though Ines had no idea what it referred to.
“There was a queen of Alis many generations ago named Phillipa. She was highly regarded as brave and intelligent, no small feat for a woman to be given any credit in that time period.”
Ines stared at Alexandre, wondering if he was suffering from some sort of sleep deprivation, because why was he talking about old queens? A history lesson?
“It is history, family, but it is also a symbol,” he continued, his gaze steady and serious, but something was lurking in their dark depths that Ines couldn’t quite identify or understand.
“I believe it would be a nice name for a princess.”
Princess. Ines’s mouth dropped open. Something cracked open inside of her. “You thought of…a name.” Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. She didn’t know what that meant.
“Before you cry, read the list, Ines.” His voice was…soft. She could not remember his tone ever being quite so resonant like that before.
So she finally looked down at the list in her hand and began to read.
We will breakfast together every morning. If I must miss a breakfast, I will make it up at the other meals of the day, and if I must be away for the entire day, you may punish me accordingly.
Punish… This didn’t make sense, so she kept reading.
There will be no more separate bedrooms. You will move into mine—you may adjust the decor accordingly.
But that seemed to mean… Ines shook her head. Maybe this was a very elaborate dream.
We will continue to walk together at least once a day, per your list.
Her…list. But they weren’t doing that anymore. Did he think she would hold him to it? She wasn’t sure she could. Except…he had a list. One with another line to it.
Once our baby is born, we will revisit our lists and adjust accordingly to ensure we are both happy.
“What…is this? What…” It read like everything she wanted. Like a marriage. Like love. But she didn’t know how to absorb that. Maybe she was hallucinating.
“This is to be on top of your list, of course. Except we are getting rid of appointments since you will be in my—in our bedchamber.”
She swallowed at the lump in her throat, finally worked up the courage to look at him. Was he really offering…all this? She couldn’t quite trust it. “What brought you to change your mind?”
He sighed, closing the distance between them. His hands were gentle on her face. His eyes direct, maybe a little sad. But sad was something new. It wasn’t detached. It wasn’t walls. It was simply true.
“It is not that I have changed my mind, Ines.”
Fear scrambled through her. And anger. “Then what is it?” she demanded, even as a tear slipped over onto her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb, his gaze never leaving hers.
“A change of heart,” he said, very seriously, very gently.
She inhaled sharply, held her breath there, staring at him trying to believe this was…really happening.
“Brought on by…everything. You. Our child. Gabriel pointing out that being the opposite of my father is not exactly a guarantee of goodness, and you had said the same. I have to be my own man, driven by my own core principles, and that man cannot be ruled by the kind of fear my father employed. The kind of fear that turned love into control or a weapon or whatever it was.”
She couldn’t quite find the words. Her mind seemed to be struggling to catch up to whatever this was, while her body reveled in his hands on her face.
“I met with the soldiers who followed Vinyes. I listened to these men tell me why they followed the general over their duty. For many, it was out of fear, bitterness. Things born out of feeling unseen, uninvolved, unimportant. And I realized that as a king I could not solve this for them—the fear, certainly, but I could not fix the things in their lives that led them to these feelings, because these feelings were not about them as soldiers, but about them as men.”
She did not know why anger welled up inside of her when he was finally breaking through his walls, finally giving, compromising, believing. The idea that she’d told him all this and he hadn’t listened but some rebellious soldiers would get through to him absolutely infuriated her.
“Well, I’m glad facing your men got through to you where I could not. Perhaps they can keep you warm at night.” She tried to turn away, but he held her in place.
“Ines.” His voice was so gentle. Almost amused, and her hands curled into fists, tempted to punch him—not that it would do any damage.
But his gaze was still direct. His hands still gentle on her face. “None of this would have happened if you had not done the fighting for me first. I was able to see this for what it was because of you.”
The lump in her throat was back. A softening waved through her with such vigor she was afraid of it and tried to maintain her anger. “So, what? You’re grateful?”
“Yes, grateful. But much more importantly, I love you, Ines. Not as a weapon, but as simply a…feeling. That we get to decide how to wield.”
Surely he didn’t mean… “I don’t understand,” she croaked.
“Don’t you? You’re the one who has been trying to get through to me.” He brushed at the tears that fell over her cheek.
“You’re just…suddenly in love with me because you stopped a revolution?” she asked, her voice squeaky.
He shook his head. “I have been in love with you for a long time. I think I began to fully realize it when you told me I needed to interfere with Gabriel and Evelyne’s problems. When you stood up to me and showed me who you were underneath your mask.
I’m sorry it took longer for me to be brave enough to look under my own.
I’m sorry it took palace turmoil to realize that dedicating myself to the crown and only the crown makes me no different than my father, not really. ”
“You are wholly different than him,” Ines said fiercely. Because no matter how confused or afraid or happy she felt, this was simply a truth they all deserved to know, to believe. But especially him.
“Perhaps different isn’t the right word. Perhaps the point is… I should stop measuring myself against what he was or wasn’t and measure myself against who I want to be. And I want to be the best king I can be. But I also want to be a man. Your husband. Our child’s father.”
Her heart was beating so hard against her chest, maybe she wasn’t actually hearing him. But he still held her, still looked deep into her eyes like this mattered. Like they mattered.
Like they loved.
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
“Yes.” He spoke without hesitation. “I love you. I will not stop. I will make mistakes, but I will endeavor to fix them rather than…” He grimaced.
“I will do my level best not to try and control them but instead deal with them. Because that is what my parents did not do. They hurt each other to control, not to love. What they felt I cannot say. I was a boy. But I know they did not handle themselves as they should. As I will endeavor to.”
He shook his head, as if irritated with his own words.
“No, that is not right. I don’t want to be in opposition to them or the memory of them any longer.
I want to build something myself. I want us to build something.
No measuring sticks. Just us trying to do our best with this love.
For our kingdom, for each other, for our family. ”
Ines absorbed those words, and in them she heard the promise of a future—not perfect, not healed. But the journey toward healing. The journey of life with highs and lows, peaks and valleys, but love through it all.
“I will want to get rid of that hideous comforter on your bed,” she managed to say, though her throat was tight and her words came out raspy. “And those curtains are an atrocity.”
He smiled, the curve of his mouth so rare, and so wholly for her. “If you are with me every night, you have free rein, my queen.”
She gripped his wrists, his hands still on her face. She met that serious gaze with her own. “I am yours,” she said fiercely, because she would be fierce about this. About love.
“And I am yours.” One hand slid off her face, smoothed down over her stomach. “Both of yours.”