CHAPTER 9 #2
"It's true. Every moment I spent with you, I fell a little harder.
Your humor, your kindness, the way you refuse to let anyone make you feel small.
The way you talk to horses like they're friends and staff like they're equals.
The way you make coffee like it's an art form and complain about protocol like it's a personal enemy.
" He took another step forward. "I fell in love with you, Betty.
The real you. Not the princess Madame Delacroix is trying to create. "
"And you showed me that love by lying to me for days?"
"I showed you who I really am when no one's watching. I gave you the parts of myself I don't show anyone else."
"Except you didn't give me the most basic truth. Your name. Your identity. The fact that you're the man I'm being forced to marry."
"Would you have let me in if you'd known?" he asked. "Would you have joked with me, confided in me, almost kissed me if you'd known I was the prince?"
"I don't know. But that should have been my choice to make."
He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was rough. "You're right. I took that choice away from you, and I'm sorry. I'm more sorry than I can express."
"Sorry doesn't fix this."
"I know. But I'm going to spend however long it takes trying to earn back your trust. Because what we had in those stables was real, Betty. The connection, the laughter, the way we fit together. That was real."
"Was it? Or was it just good acting?"
He looked like I'd slapped him. Part of me was glad. The other part, the part that still remembered how safe I'd felt in the stables, how seen, how understood... that part wanted to take the words back.
I didn't.
"There's a room full of diplomats waiting to see us presented as a happy couple," I said, my voice flat. "I assume we still have to go through with that."
"Betty..."
"The wedding is in three days. The stupid alliance depends on it.
Nothing that happened between us changes that.
" I straightened my spine and lifted my chin, channeling every ounce of royal bearing Madame Delacroix had tried to drill into me. "We’ll pretend to be in love for the cameras. Apparently, you’re good at pretending. "
I walked toward the door without looking back.
"Betty, wait."
I stopped but didn't turn around.
"I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But please don't let this destroy what we were building."
"You destroyed it," I said. "When you decided that lying to me was easier than trusting me with the truth."
I opened the door and stepped into the corridor, where Captain Steiner was waiting to escort me back to the reception.
If she noticed that my eyes were bright with unshed tears, she had the grace not to mention it.
* * *
THE FORMAL INTRODUCTION was everything I'd dreaded and worse.
"Ladies and gentlemen, His Royal Highness Prince Archibald Peter Constantine Falcieri of Solmarina, and Her Royal Highness Princess Bettina Elena Margot Reina of Valdoria."
We descended the grand staircase together, his hand on my elbow in a gesture that was supposed to look supportive and romantic. I smiled so hard my face hurt. He smiled too, but his eyes kept cutting to me with an expression that looked like worry.
Good. Let him worry.
We made the rounds together, accepting congratulations and well-wishes from people whose names I immediately forgot. Archie handled most of the conversation, which was good because I didn't trust my voice not to shake.
A Spanish countess gave me a look that could have frozen the Mediterranean, but I was too numb to care.
"You're doing beautifully," Archie murmured as we moved between groups.
"Don't talk to me."
"Betty," he sighed.
"Smile and wave, Your Highness. That's what we're here for."
He fell silent, though his hand tightened on my elbow.
The evening stretched on forever. By the time we'd spoken with every diplomat, posed for every photograph, and accepted every toast to our happiness, I was running on pure adrenaline and spite.
When we finally had a moment alone, standing by the windows overlooking the palace gardens, Archie spoke quietly.
"You were amazing tonight. No one would ever guess—"
"That my heart is breaking?" I kept my eyes on the garden. "No, I suppose they wouldn't. I'm getting very good at pretending."
"Betty, please."
I finally looked at him. In the uniform, with the medals and the formal posture, he looked every inch the prince. But underneath all that, I could still see Peter. The man who'd made me laugh. The man who'd made me feel capable and seen and valued.
The man who'd lied to me.
"I need time," I said. "I need to process this without you standing there looking at me like a kicked puppy."
"Of course. Whatever you need."
"What I need is for none of this to have happened.
What I need is for the man I was starting to fall for to have been honest with me from the beginning.
" My voice cracked. "What I need is to go back to yesterday, when I was just a girl with a crush on her riding instructor and a prince who existed only as an abstract concept. "
"You were falling for me?"
"Don't." I held up a hand. "Don't make this about that. You don't get to feel good about this."
"I don't feel good. I feel terrible. I made a mistake, and I hurt someone I care about."
"Then we agree on something."
I turned and walked away, because if I stayed any longer, I was going to cry, and I refused to give the Spanish countess the satisfaction of seeing the American princess break down in public.
Back in my room, I finally let the tears fall.
I cried for the betrayal. For the lost trust. For the connection I'd thought was real and now didn't know how to categorize.
But mostly, I cried because even now, even knowing what he'd done, part of me still wanted him.
And that made everything so much worse.