Chapter 22 #2
"Then discuss it," Evangeline cut her off calmly. "But Mr. Halliwell leaves today, and Mr. Banks resumes his duties immediately. I'm sure you can expedite the paperwork."
Roger's face reddened. "Princess, I don't think you understand the situation. He attacked me unprovoked."
"I doubt that very much," she replied coolly. "And it's 'Your Highness,' not 'Princess.' I may not have completed my veterinary degree yet, but I know the proper royalty address."
I fought the urge to smile at her cutting remark. This was the woman I knew—poised, intelligent, and absolutely lethal when crossed.
"Dara," Evangeline turned to the head of security, her tone softening slightly. "I appreciate your concern, but my decision is final. Please make the arrangements."
Dara's professional mask slipped back into place, though I could see the disapproval lingering in her eyes. "As you wish, Your Highness."
"Mr. Halliwell," Evangeline continued, "your severance pay will be more than generous. I suggest you use some of it for sensitivity training."
Roger opened his mouth to protest, but something in her expression made him think better of it. With a stiff nod, he retreated down the corridor, Dara following close behind.
When we were alone, Evangeline turned to me, raising one eyebrow. "I can't leave you alone for an hour without you starting fights in the palace?"
I kept my expression neutral, fighting the urge to reach for her. Nine days without her smile, voice, and warmth had been excruciating. But I couldn't show it. I wouldn't.
"He needed to be put in his place," I said simply, my voice deliberately flat.
She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume more clearly. The subtle scent made memories flash through my mind—her perfume on my sheets and on my skin. I clenched my fists at my sides.
"And what place is that?"
"Anywhere far away from you."
A ghost of a smile played on her lips. "Jealous, Mr. Banks?"
"Professionally Concerned," I countered, echoing the words I'd said to her once before. The lie tasted bitter in my mouth.
Her smile widened momentarily before fading, a brief sun breaking through clouds. "We need to talk, James. About what happened."
I nodded, knowing she meant our night together—the night that had changed everything for me. The night I'd tasted paradise, only to walk away from it because I was too bloody stubborn, too damn scared.
"Not here," I managed, my voice rougher than intended.
"Walk with me," she said, turning toward the gardens. "I need some air anyway."
I followed her through the palace and into the manicured grounds, maintaining a professional distance behind her.
She was walking ahead of me, her back straight, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, catching the winter sunlight.
It had grown longer since I first met her.
I remembered how it felt wrapped around my fingers.
The winter air was crisp but not unbearable, and the sky was a clear, bright blue above us. We walked in silence for several minutes, both of us gathering our thoughts.
"You came back," she finally said, breaking the silence. She didn't turn to look at me, keeping her eyes forward as we followed the gravel path through dormant rose bushes.
"Yes."
"Why?"
I could have given her the official reason—that I wanted to ensure proper security protocols were in place and that I was concerned about Roger's qualifications. But she deserved better than my evasions.
"You know why," I said, my voice low.
She stopped then, turning to face me. Her blue eyes searched mine, looking for something. Truth, perhaps. Or reassurance. I kept my face impassive, though it took every ounce of willpower I possessed.
"I know what you're going to say," she finally began, her breath visible in the cold. "That our night together was a mistake. That it can never happen again."
"Is that what you want me to say?" I asked, watching her carefully.
She hesitated, then squared her shoulders—a gesture I recognised as her Princess Evangeline posture, the mask she wore when she needed strength.
"I think we should be clear with each other, Mr. Banks. What happened between us was..." She paused, searching for the right word. "Inevitable, perhaps. But now we need to be practical."
Mr. Banks again. The formality stung more than it should have.
"Practical," I repeated, the word like ash in my mouth.
"Yes." She nodded, her expression composed but her eyes revealing more turmoil than her voice. "You left. You had your reasons, I'm sure. But you came back, and now we need to establish boundaries."
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. Boundaries. As if we hadn't already crossed every bloody line there was to cross.
"What kind of boundaries would you suggest, Your Highness?" I couldn't keep the edge from my voice.
She lifted her chin slightly. "Professional ones. You are my security detail. I am your client. Whatever happened between us was..." She swallowed, her composure slipping briefly. "It was one night. A moment out of time. It doesn't have to mean anything more than that."
Hearing her dismiss what we'd shared so easily made something dark and bitter twist inside me. To me, it meant everything. It had haunted me, consumed me, dragged me back here against all reason.
But I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that.
"Agreed," I said, my voice as cold as the winter air around us. "Professional boundaries. Nothing more."
She studied my face, perhaps looking for some sign that I was lying. I gave her none, keeping my expression as rigid as stone.
"Good," she said finally, though something in her tone suggested it was anything but. "I plan to remain in Bellavista for an additional seven days.. I need to be here for Alexandra's funeral, to support my mother, to begin the grieving process properly."
The mention of her sister sent a pang through me. I hadn't been here for her when she'd received the news of her sister's death. Another failure to add to my growing list.
"My condolences on the passing of your sister," I said, finding my words lacking but heartfelt.
Pain flashed across her face, raw and unbridled, before she masked it again. "Thank you."
We resumed walking, the silence between us heavy with unspoken things. I wanted to reach for her hand, to pull her close, to offer comfort beyond empty words. Instead, I kept my distance, hands shoved deep in my pockets.
"After the funeral," she continued after a moment, "I need to return to Luxembourg. I have to complete my studies. Graduate. It's important to me to finish what I started, especially now."
"I'll make the necessary arrangements," I assured her, slipping easily back into my professional role.
She stopped walking again, turning to face me fully. "There's something else you should know, James." Her use of my first name caught me off guard. "My mother has made it clear that after graduation, my life will change significantly."
"How so?"
Evangeline's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of whatever she was about to share visibly heavy upon her.
"With Alexandra gone, everything has changed.
Mother has clarified, I can no longer pursue my veterinary dreams indefinitely.
After I graduate, I'll need to step into Alexandra's role immediately—all her royal duties, her preparations for eventual succession.
" Her voice grew quieter. "Mother isn't getting any younger, and the stress of recent events has aged her.
She wants to ensure the transition of power is smooth when the time comes, which means I need to be ready much sooner than anyone expected. "
"That is a significant change from what you'd planned," I said, watching the way her shoulders sagged under the weight of unexpected responsibility.
She nodded, looking away toward the distant mountains.
"Not what I had planned for my life, but duty calls.
Alexandra was prepared for this. She'd been trained since birth.
I was just the spare, allowed more freedom because I wasn't expected to rule.
" A humourless laugh escaped her. "Funny how life works. "
I wanted to say something comforting, something meaningful, but what could I possibly offer? What words could ease the burden of an unexpected crown?
"You'll make a good queen," I said finally, meaning it.
She looked back at me, surprise flickering across her features. "You think so?"
"I know so." I held her gaze steadily. "You're stronger than you realise, Evangeline."
Something in her expression softened at the use of her name. For a fleeting moment, the princess disappeared, and I saw just the woman—vulnerable, uncertain, but braver than anyone I'd ever known.
"Thank you," she whispered. Then, as if catching herself, she straightened, the royal mask slipping back into place. "But you understand now why what happened between us must remain in the past. My future is set. I have responsibilities, duties that can't be shirked."
I nodded, ignoring the hollow feeling spreading through my chest. "I understand, Your Highness."
"Good." She began walking again, her pace brisker than before. "Then we're clear. Professional relationship only. What happened in Luxembourg stays in Luxembourg."
"Perfectly clear." My voice was neutral, belying the turmoil inside. I was angry—at her for dismissing what we'd shared, at myself for caring so damn much, at the circumstances that made anything more between us impossible.
We walked back toward the palace in silence, the distance between us much greater than the few feet separating us physically.
I watched her profile, committing it to memory—the elegant slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the way sunlight glinted off her hair.
She was untouchable now, more so than ever before.
A future queen. And I was just her security detail, a man who had held her for one night before reality came crashing back.
As we approached the palace entrance, she paused, her hand resting on the ornate door handle. "James?"
"Yes, Your Highness?"
She hesitated, something like regret flashing across her face. "I'm glad you came back."
Before I could respond, she was gone, disappearing into the palace with the graceful efficiency that marked everything she did. I stood alone in the winter sunlight, feeling the familiar weight of longing settle over me.
My secure phone buzzed—a message from Harrison, my former commanding officer who now worked private security contracts.
'Heard you're back in Bellavista. Need to discuss the Kozlov situation.
Some intel you should know about.' I'd worked with Harrison on several high-profile cases; his information was usually reliable.
But something about the timing of his message, coming just as I'd returned to Evangeline's side, made me uneasy.
Nine days since I'd left her bed. Nine days of trying to forget her. And now I was back, agreeing to maintain a professional distance while staying by her side through her sister's funeral, her graduation, her eventual coronation.
Despite my better judgment, overlooking past actions and everything associated with them, my professional ethics, my self-preservation instincts—I couldn't bear the thought of being anywhere else.
Nine days away, had been enough to teach me that much.
It was going to be torture. Pure, exquisite torture.