21. Claire
CLAIRE
C laire was busy packing. She’d avoided Adrien since their last encounter, telling Esme to keep him away. She hadn’t wanted to see him. It would only upset them both. It was better for her to slip away unseen and not make a fuss.
She’d booked a plane ticket from Amsterdam to Detroit, and planned to have the baby quietly, before finding a job as a chef somewhere locally.
Gibson’s Hamburger Emporium was recruiting — she’d seen an advert in the Detroit Echo.
From one life to another. That was the way of things, and Claire was determined to make the best of whatever was to be.
She wouldn’t ask for money, and she wouldn’t take any money, either.
There’d be no story to sell, no million-dollar exclusive splashed over some trashy tabloid.
It’ll be as though I was never here.
With a sigh, she packed the last of her things into her suitcase. She’d come with hardly anything, and she was leaving with hardly anything, too.
Except the memories.
Scrolling through the pictures on her phone, she slowed as she came to the pictures from the yacht.
There was one Anton had taken of her and Adrien with the steamed sponge pudding.
They’d been so happy then — and here in Flandenne, too.
Those first few weeks had been bliss — lying together in bed, relaxing in the garden, holding hands.
How simple it had all seemed. It hadn’t been a show, not at all.
It had meant something. It had all meant something.
She thought back to the night of the engagement party, and how he’d guided her through what could’ve been such an awkward set of encounters. With a sigh, she shook her head.
It’s for the best. We can’t be certain it would’ve worked.
But Claire wasn’t na?ve. She knew relationships took work. It wasn’t all smooth sailing, even as her mind was made up.
“Will that be everything, Miss Bellamy?” Esme asked. “There’s a car coming for you. Shall I inform His Royal Highness?”
Claire shook her head. She didn’t want a tearful farewell — or any farewell.
They’d said what they had to say, but part of her wanted to leave something behind — a memory, at least. She’d inform Adrien when the baby was born.
He might want to visit or be somehow involved in his upbringing.
But that would come later — as for now, Claire did have one thought in mind.
“No,” she replied. “I just need to go down to the kitchen for something, then I’ll go.”
Claire found Monsieur Faronne making soufflés. Over the past few weeks, she’d become a regular visitor to the palace kitchens, and the chef greeted her warmly.
“What recipes are you bringing for me today?” he asked, as Claire came to join him in front of the oven, where he was watching the rising desserts through the glass.
“It’s a dish of langoustines. I made them for Adrien… for the prince, on the first day we met,” Claire replied.
It was a simple dish, but food invoked memories, and just the like the steamed sponge pudding reminded Adrien of being a kid at boarding school, Claire hoped the langoustines would remind him of her.
The chef glanced at her and smiled. “Ah, how delicious. Do you have the recipe?”
Claire nodded. It was one she’d made up — inspired by the dishes on the menu at Le Paradis in Monaco. But she’d written it down for Monsieur Faronne, hoping he’d make it for Adrien as a reminder of happier times.
“It’s quite simple, really. A very Mediterranean dish. His Royal Highness was particularly fond of it,” she said, handing the chef the piece of paper she’d written the details on.
He read it over and smiled. “You’ll have to show me. Perhaps it could be a dish at the wedding reception. That’s why I’m testing these soufflés. Her Majesty wants to go through the menus tomorrow. I’m surprised you haven’t insisted on designing it all yourself.”
Claire blushed. She’d pushed all thoughts of the wedding aside, not wanting to even think about the possibility it might still go ahead. Around her, the preparations continued, but Claire had already left them far behind.
“Well, I… yes, I suppose there’s just been so many other things to think about.”
The chef smiled. “Then I’ll do my best to create something wonderful for you both.”
Claire felt tears welling up in her eyes.
Food brought people together. Had it not been for food — the dishes she’d served on board the Aurora — Adrien might never have noticed her.
A lump rose in her throat, and she was relieved when a sudden ping announced the soufflés were ready.
Standing back, she watched as Monsieur Garonne removed them from the oven.
They were perfect — risen majestically above the rims of the ramekins, still with the slightest of wobbles.
“They look delicious,” Claire said, as the chef offered her a spoon.
“Ah, but as soon as they rise, they sink.”
There was a metaphor in there somewhere, and Claire wondered if she’d been too hasty in allowing her own feelings to rise.
It was easy to fall in love. Or, rather, it was easy to stray towards saying so.
On the yacht, everything had seemed so simple.
Falling in love had seemed simple. But in Flandenne, with a baby, and with so much else to think about…
“But for a few moments it’s perfect,” Claire replied, digging her spoon into the fluffy rise of the soufflé.
It tasted divine — sweet and light, with a hint of pistachio.
“They can’t be left. Soufflés hate neglect,” the chef said, watching as Claire took another spoonful.
She’d gladly have eaten the whole thing. But the time had come to leave. The car would be waiting. She wanted to slip away without a fuss. It would be known soon enough. The tabloids, the websites, social media…
Why do people care so much?
Claire thanked Monsieur Faronne and left the palace kitchens, hurrying through the back corridors of the palace.
It felt strange to be leaving, though it would be just as strange to remain.
Claire was beginning to realize she didn’t know where she belonged or what her life was meant to be like.
For a short while, she’d glimpsed something different.
But it had never been meant to be — not really.
She kept telling herself as much, her heart beating fast as she hurried to leave — to leave everything behind.
“Claire?”
Claire paused, closing her eyes and sighing as the familiar voice of the queen pulled her up short.
“Your Majesty,” she said, turning and dipping into a curtsey as she’d learned to do on encountering Adrien’s mother over the past few weeks.
“Where are you going? I thought we could talk,” the queen said, advancing towards Claire, who had no choice but to pause on the corridor beneath a large portrait of one of Adrien’s ancestors.
“I was just… coming from the kitchens. Monsieur Faronne was showing me some of the dishes he’s been creating for the wedding,” Claire said, forcing a smile to her face as the queen approached.
“Adrien tells me you’re not finding things easy,” the queen said, looking searchingly at Claire, who blushed.
She didn’t realize Adrien had noticed. He’d seemed distant since she’d told him she was pregnant — as though he was holding back.
“Oh, I… I don’t know about that. It’s all very different, of course,” Claire replied.
She wanted to run away — to leave all this behind and not be made to face up to the fact of her doubts.
“I understand,” the queen replied. “It was the same for me when I married the king. He was the crown prince then, of course. I wasn’t used to the spotlight. Suddenly, everyone was interested in me. I couldn’t understand it. Why would they care about me? But they did.”
Claire nodded. “But you got used to it?”
To her surprise, Adrien’s mother shook her head.
“No. I learned to live with it. That’s all.
I don’t think you can ever get used to it.
The life we’re forced to live isn’t one I’d wish on anyone.
I can’t even wear the same dress without someone noticing.
Everything I buy, everywhere I go, every choice I make ends up with someone commenting on it or deducing something from it. ”
The thought was hardly compelling, and Claire wondered why the queen was telling her this if it was an attempt to reassure her.
“But you’ve always carried on,” Claire replied.
The queen nodded. “Yes. And there’s a simple reason for it.
Love. If I didn’t love my husband, how could I?
That’s what I’m trying to say to you, Claire.
It’ll destroy you if you let it. And if you don’t have love, it’s an impossibility.
But if you do, the rest doesn’t matter. Not really.
You can learn to live with it. Adrien knows that.
He’s known it all his life, but perhaps he hasn’t fully appreciated that you haven’t.
Ask yourself what you want, Claire. We’re all here to help you, I promise. ”
Claire was touched. She hadn’t seen this side of the queen before, and perhaps that was the point.
Behind the trappings of wealth and privilege, this family was no different from any other, and what was happening was no different from what happened in so many other families, too.
It made Claire think twice about what she was doing, and about her feelings towards Adrien — a man who’d never known different, and for who what was happening now was normal.
“Thank you. I suppose… I just wasn’t quite ready for it,” Claire replied.
The queen reached out and placed her hand on Claire’s arm.
“I don’t think any of us ever are,” she said.
“But we have to make the best of things. Smile, nod, wave — do everything that’s expected of us — and remember that behind it all, we have one another.
You and Adrien make a lovely couple, Claire.
I hope you’ll be very happy together. I’ve not seen him like this in a long time.
You’ve given him back his spark. I’m very grateful to you for that. ”
Claire smiled. She hadn’t realized she’d done anything much, but she was grateful to the queen for her words, and when they’d parted company, she thought again about what she was doing.
It was unfair of her to leave without saying something more — without giving Adrien a chance to tell her how he was feeling.
It wouldn’t be fair, and she realized now how selfish she was being.
The baby was his, too. He was going to be a father.
What am I doing?
Taking a deep breath, she ran her hands through her hair, not knowing which way to turn.
The car was waiting for her. The flights were booked.
Her old life was waiting. But the new life remained, and the queen’s words had resonated with her.
Claire had spent so long worrying about what others were saying about her, thinking about her…
But none of that matters, does it? Not if we love one another.
Sighing, she placed her hands on her stomach, imagining what being a mom would be like.
Could she do it on her own? Her family wouldn’t understand what she’d left behind, and Adrien, too — didn’t he deserve more of a say?
But staying together for the sake of a baby was a recipe for disaster.
Claire knew of others who’d done the same.
They’d said they’d make a go of it — “for the baby’s sake.
” But the queen was right. There was no other reason to be together except love.
If anything else was the case, it would fail.
Did she love Adrien? Claire thought back to those first days.
There was something about him. Something different.
He made her feel like no man had ever done before.
It wasn’t about money, or privilege. None of that mattered.
She didn’t care if she lived in a palace or a condo.
What mattered was love, and if Claire was going to stay, she had to be certain of her feelings.
And that means not running away. It means giving him a chance.
Her mind was made up. She couldn’t just leave like this. There was so much more still to be said, and taking a deep breath, Claire went in search of the prince.