Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
Three days later Annalena stood in Benedikt’s study. The room with its full bookshelves and comfortable leather chesterfields felt familiar, almost cosy, since she’d spent so much time here.
There’d been so many details to discuss and agree on. But today was different. It wasn’t just the pair of them.
Apart from Benedikt’s assistant, Matthias, there were half a dozen witnesses to today’s formalities. All male, all holding important government positions, and all serious, their expressions ranging from sombre to aghast, making her feel more than ever like an unwelcome outsider.
Annalena kept her expression serene despite the crash of her heart against her ribs.
Benedikt sat at the desk, signing document after document with a confident flourish.
With their dark suits and long faces, the men gave a funereal air to the proceedings.
Annalena’s green and silver dirndl seemed festive, almost frivolous by comparison. But her new wardrobe wasn’t ready and these were the only formal clothes she’d brought.
How would these disapproving men have looked if she’d appeared in jeans and a T-shirt, the ones she wore for exploring the vast palace grounds? Her lips twitched and she looked up to see Matthias nod genially in her direction.
That tiny show of solidarity warmed her. She’d tried not to dwell on negative thoughts but felt very much alone.
Half an hour ago Benedikt had told her she was doing the right thing. But it was hard to believe, now their agreement was about to become real.
He put his pen down and stood, his gaze catching hers.
More warmth, a sizzle that flooded her body and made her pulse beat hard and low, but Annalena didn’t trust it. He made her feel things she shouldn’t. How could she believe his reassurances?
You have no other option.
She was in a corner with no escape.
Squaring her shoulders, she walked to the desk and sat. The royal desk, a huge antique used by generations of kings. Now here she was, an interloper.
She might have a right to sit here because of the blood that flowed in her veins, but it felt wrong. Obviously those around her felt the same. Her life was supposed to be elsewhere. She had a career, friends—
Benedikt’s strong hand appeared before her, holding a gold fountain pen. ‘When you’re ready, Annalena.’
He stood close but didn’t crowd her. She had a momentary flash of surprise, registering that she’d grown accustomed to him being near.
Her body still reacted with regrettable predictability when he got close, but he didn’t intimidate her.
It was the disapproving old men glowering from the far side of the desk who did that.
She took the pen, straightened her shoulders and smiled coolly at her audience, refusing to let them see she was rattled. A couple of nervous smiles met hers.
Perhaps they weren’t all disapproving, just concerned.
Who could blame them? She wasn’t cut out for this, knew nothing about ruling the country.
Focus on the positive. You’re a quick learner. You have some skills and people you can consult when in doubt.
Suppressing a sigh, she looked at the papers before her. In a gesture of good faith, Benedikt had signed first, ending the dam project, then signing the marriage contract and the documents giving her the right to rule jointly with him.
Even so, she read every word, ignoring the restless shuffle of feet. Finally, when she managed to steady her hand, she began to sign.
The final document was the marriage agreement.
Annalena flexed her fingers. They were stiff as if she’d been writing all morning. The words blurred, formal clauses turning into gobbledygook.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision.
She wasn’t a romantic, but she’d assumed one day she’d marry for love. Or at least marry someone she liked.
Did she like Benedikt?
Sometimes she liked him too much. There were times when it felt as if they hovered on the brink of something more than reluctant acceptance.
Don’t you want more than acceptance? Don’t you want to be valued for yourself? Not for your claim to the throne?
Annalena swallowed over the constriction in her throat. She didn’t have that luxury. Yet this felt wrong, promising to share her life, herself with a man she barely knew.
Someone on the other side of the desk coughed but beside her Benedikt stood steady, unmoving. As usual, she felt his presence without even turning her head.
Repressing a sigh, she grabbed the pen and signed.
There was no going back. She only hoped she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.
‘Don’t leave, Annalena.’
She cast a longing look at the door closing behind the departing men. Now it was done, she needed time to gather her thoughts and her shaky equilibrium.
Because no matter what duty decreed, it was tough knowing her life would never be the same.
An hour in the woodland beyond the formal gardens would restore her calm. Being outside in the natural world had always been her go to when things got tough.
Was it any wonder she’d become a botanist?
‘I have phone calls to make.’
She’d promised to phone her grandmother after the contract was signed. She turned to find Benedikt watching her, head tilted as if the better to scrutinise her.
The man who was going to be her husband.
Adrenaline shot through her bloodstream.
‘I won’t keep you long.’
‘Of course.’ She stifled an unfamiliar sensation that felt too much like panic and made herself walk back to the desk where he stood.
‘It will be okay, Annalena, as long as we work together.’
His words and the expression in his eyes surprised her. She’d spent the days resenting the situation she found herself in. Yet he wasn’t an ogre, just, she hoped, a man trying to do right by his country.
Had he read her fear? The idea was insupportable.
She didn’t want his pity. She’d spent her life standing up for herself and her people.
Now she needed to be his equal if she were to have any chance of making this relationship work.
A lifetime’s lessons from her redoubtable Oma came to her aid as she wiped the frown from her face, offering him an expression of calm certainty.
‘Yes, that’s the only way. What did you want to discuss?’
For a second longer his gaze held hers then he looked down to something in his hand. ‘We’ll announce our betrothal at the ball in a couple of days. Plus there’s a session booked for official photos. You’ll need this.’
He held his hand out to reveal a green velvet box. A ring box.
‘Oh.’
Her heart pounded so high it felt as if it tried to escape via her throat. Her cheeks flushed on a rush of heat before the ice forming in the pit of her stomach counteracted it.
He pressed a button and the lid popped to reveal a dazzling ring. It was plain but for the large, emerald-cut stone of clear, deep green that shone with inner fire.
Her grandmother owned a substantial jewellery collection but Annalena had never seen any piece so beautiful.
‘It’s from the treasury. You’re welcome to choose something else if you prefer, but I thought this suited you.’
She raised her eyes. ‘Oh?’
‘The colour matches your eyes. And—’ he lifted his shoulders ‘—because of its simplicity.’
Everything inside stilled. ‘Because I’m simple?’
The last few days, with endless sessions about royal responsibilities and protocol, had left her fully aware of her ignorance in such matters, feeling more than ever out of her depth. But she’d thought she’d learned well.
She and Benedikt had been at loggerheads from the first but he’d never offered insults.
‘Of course not!’ Lines carved across his forehead. ‘If anything, you’re complex and not to be underestimated.’ He paused. ‘I was referring to your beauty. It’s unfussy and natural. The ring reminded me of that.’
Annalena had no words. He thought her complex and not to be underestimated? That made her sound like a worthy opponent.
But beautiful? She had even features and her eyes were an unusually pure green. Did he think she needed flattery? Did unfussy and natural mean unsophisticated? But her self-esteem didn’t hinge on what he thought.
He probably felt it necessary to say something complimentary when presenting an engagement ring. Words of affection, much less love, would be insulting.
Yet she couldn’t banish the tiny curl of delight deep inside at the compliment. Remarkably he’d made her feel special. Not what she envisaged from the man forcing her hand.
‘Thank you, Benedikt. It’s good you thought of a ring. I’d completely forgotten. It would have looked odd if I’d appeared without the appropriate prop.’
She took it out and slipped it on. It was a little snug, making her hyperconscious of its weight around her finger. Or perhaps that was because she didn’t usually wear rings.
She moved her hand, transfixed by the gorgeous ring. An emerald? Probably, since it came from the treasury.
Annalena forced a smile to her lips. ‘It looks regal, doesn’t it? Perfect for the part I’m playing.’
Benedikt strode the long corridor to the guest wing. They were due to open the ball soon, but first he needed to see Annalena in her suite.
In case she’s a no-show?
No, she’d given her word.
Because you want to vet what she’s wearing? You don’t trust her fashion sense?
That was the least of his worries. The designer knew what was needed. Annalena’s outfit for the engagement photos couldn’t have been better. The tailored skirt and jacket in a deep rose colour had been a perfect foil for her colouring. She’d looked elegant and attractive.
Yet her smiles hadn’t reached her eyes and she’d been as wooden as a marionette when the photographer asked them to stand together. It had been hard finding convincing photos to project the image of an eager bride and groom.
She hadn’t deliberately tried to sabotage the shoot, but her discomfort had been clear.