CHAPTER 16 #3
He turned when he heard the door. "Hi."
"Hi."
We stood there in silence for a moment, the vast library feeling somehow intimate in the late-evening quiet.
"I've been thinking about what you said," he began. "About needing time. And you're right. You should take whatever time you need."
"Okay."
"But I want you to know something first." He moved closer, stopping a few feet away, close enough to talk quietly but not close enough to touch. "This morning, when I said those things to you, I was wrong. Not just wrong to say them out loud, but wrong to think them in the first place."
I sighed.
"Please. Let me finish." He took a breath.
"You were twenty years old, living a normal life, having normal experiences with your friends.
The fact that someone weaponized those experiences against you is despicable.
And the fact that I joined in that attack instead of defending you is unforgivable. "
"I don't know if it's unforgivable."
"It should be." His voice was rough. "You trusted me last night. You were vulnerable with me. And then this morning I threw it in your face because I was jealous of some guy you went on three dates with years ago."
"You were hurt."
"I was an insecure idiot who let my feelings override my judgment.
" He ran a hand through his hair. "I looked at those photos and all I could think was that he got to see you like that, relaxed and laughing and completely yourself.
And I was jealous because that's all I've wanted since the moment I met you.
To see the real you without any royal performance. "
The honesty in his voice made my throat tight. "You've seen the real me."
"Have I? Or have we both been performing for each other this whole time, trying to figure out if we can make this impossible situation work?"
"I don't know." I moved to the window, looking out at the same view he'd been watching. "Maybe a little of both."
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "For what it's worth, last night was real. What happened between us. That wasn't performance."
"I know."
"And this morning, when I said those things, that wasn't real either.
That was fear and jealousy and all the worst parts of me that I usually keep under control.
" He turned to face me. "The real me is the person who thinks you're remarkable.
Who watches you read to children and sees someone who's going to be an incredible princess.
Who wakes up with you in his arms and feels lucky for the first time in years. "
I closed my eyes against the words. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't say things like that when I'm trying to stay angry at you."
"I'm not trying to make you less angry. I'm trying to be honest." He paused.
"You asked me this morning if I believed you.
The answer is yes. I believe every word you said about Chilly Baker.
I believe someone set this up to hurt you.
And I believe I played right into their hands by attacking you instead of standing with you. "
"So what now?"
"Now I give you the time you asked for. And I hope that eventually you'll decide I'm worth giving another chance." He moved toward the door, then stopped. "But Betty? While you're thinking about whether you can forgive me, you should also think about what Viktor said to you today."
That surprised me. "What about it?"
"About the alliance, about other options, about questioning whether the marriage was wise." His expression was serious. "Viktor has always been ambitious. And he's never liked the idea of Valdoria aligning with the West instead of with Russia. I don't know what his game is, but I don't trust him."
"He seemed genuinely concerned."
"He seemed like he was planting doubts in your head about whether you belong here." Archie met my eyes. "You do belong here, Betty. Don't let anyone, including me, make you question that."
He left before I could respond, leaving me alone in the library with too many thoughts and not enough answers.
I stayed there for a long time, watching the lights of boats in the harbor and replaying the day in my mind. The fight with Archie. Viktor's careful concern. Lady Caroline's veiled insults. The duchess who said complicated didn't mean impossible.
And Archie, standing in this very spot, telling me I was remarkable.
My phone buzzed with a text from Petra: The photos from tonight are already online. You look incredible. The press is calling you "dignified and poised" which is royal-speak for "we were wrong about her."
I pulled up the photos on my phone. There I was in the emerald dress, smiling at children, shaking hands with donors, standing next to Archie looking every inch the princess I was supposed to be.
And there we were together, his arm around my waist, both of us smiling for the camera, looking for all the world like a couple who had it all figured out.
If only they knew.
I was about to head back to my rooms when I noticed a book lying on the reading table, something Archie must have been looking at before I arrived. I picked it up and found it was open to a section on managing public scandals.
He'd been researching. Trying to figure out how to help me.
Despite everything, despite the fight and the hurt and the anger I was still carrying, that small detail made my chest ache.
Complicated didn't mean impossible. The duchess had said that.
I just had to figure out if I believed her.