Chapter Thirteen #2
“Nate!” the woman called again, waving one arm. “Oh my God—I didn’t know you were still here.”
Allegra looked at Nate.
Nate looked at the woman.
He closed his eyes. Not long enough to be dramatic. Long enough to read as resignation. “Shit,” he muttered, pushing back from the table and standing. “Yeah. I, uh, decided to stay a few extra days.”
The woman crossed the café in three long strides and grabbed his face with both hands, planting a loud kiss on his cheek. Something sharp twisted in Allegra’s gut, not jealousy exactly, but awareness. Of proximity. Of familiarity. Of history.
The woman leaned back, her attention flicking to Allegra for the first time.
“Oh, this is Ella,” Nate said quickly. “She’s… a friend. Ella, this is Miranda.”
Allegra curled her toes in her sandals, bracing herself for overly friendly questions, an enthusiastic hug, or some version of Oh my God, tell me everything. Instead—
“Hi,” Miranda said, offering a curt nod.
“Hi,” Allegra replied, surprised enough to smile. “So, how do you two know each other?”
Nate paused. “We did some work together.”
“Mm-hmm,” Miranda said, clearly agreeing with a much longer version of that sentence.
She leaned closer to him, lowering her voice, though not nearly enough. “I heard you’re out.”
“Yeah. I’m done. Full career pivot.”
Miranda’s grin wavered. “That’s good,” she said, sincerity creeping in. “Really. A nine-to-five and all that. Takes balls.”
“Trying to grow some,” Nate replied.
Miranda’s gaze flicked back to Allegra, curious but not assessing. Allegra resisted the urge to straighten her spine, to suddenly appear more impressive, more worthy of whatever silent comparison was happening in her own head.
“Well,” Miranda said brightly, stepping back, “I’ll let you get back to it. Nice to meet you, Ella.”
“Nice to meet you,” Allegra echoed.
Miranda squeezed Nate’s arm, then turned and left, ponytail swinging behind her. The café seemed to exhale in her wake. Cups clinked. Someone laughed near the counter. Normal life resumed.
Allegra’s espresso arrived. She wrapped her hands around the cup, mostly to keep them from fidgeting. “So,” she said lightly, “that was something.”
Nate grimaced. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
Sorry about what, Allegra wondered. The interruption? Or the way he’d looked at that woman, like they shared a shorthand she wasn’t fluent in? She took a slow sip of her coffee, eyes fixed on him over the rim, and set the cup down.
“So, what did you want to tell me?”
He shifted in his seat, scratching his forearm. “Honestly? Nothing major. Just wanted to apologize again for how weird last night got.”
Allegra suspected he was holding something back. The urge to call him on it flared. But the irony wasn’t exactly subtle. The man didn’t even know her real name. She bit her tongue and let it slide. For now.
“Okay,” she said. “So, plates and artifacts when I’m done with this coffee?”
He blinked. “Hard no.”
Relief lit her face. “Excellent. I could really use some air. There’s a botanical garden nearby.”
“I’m in.”
***
The path through the botanic garden curved lazily, meandering like it had all the time in the world and not a single care for destinations or deadlines. Allegra envied that.
She risked a sideways glance at Nate.
He strolled beside her, hands jammed into the pockets of his shorts, shoulders broad enough to block out the morning sun. He moved like he always did—loose, unbothered, as if gravity worked differently on him. Like he could carry you out of a burning building.
Or into one.
Her pulse ticked higher. Irritating.
“So,” she said, clearing her throat but still managing to sound like she’d swallowed sandpaper, “you mentioned you were leaving soon. That means you’ve got flights locked in?”
A muscle twitched in Nate’s jaw. He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed somewhere ahead of them, on a point in the distance she couldn’t see. “Yep,” he said, his voice flat. “Turns out the ‘flexible’ in my fare had limits. Home to LA in two days.”
“Eager to get back?” she asked, her stomach tightening as she waited for his answer. She told herself she didn’t care. That it didn’t matter. That she was just making conversation, filling the silence like it was any other morning with any other person.
“Not really.”
The words slipped out of him, unvarnished and honest, and they hit her square in the sternum.
Allegra exhaled, her chest suddenly too tight, her fingers twisting around the strap of her bag.
She didn’t know what to do with that answer.
Didn’t know how to file it away in the neat little boxes she kept her life in.
They walked on, the path crunching underfoot, the scent of earth and green things rising around them. The garden was lush, vibrant, alive—so different from the carefully manicured grounds of the palace, where every leaf was placed with intention, every bloom approved by a committee.
“What about you?” Nate asked after a beat. “Sticking around?”
Allegra swallowed, her throat dry. “Oh, I’ll probably fly home,” she said, forcing a lightness into her tone that she didn’t feel. “Next couple of days, I think.”
“And then?”
“And then…” She lifted one shoulder. “Hit pause on the study. Do some work for my parents.”
His brow creased. “That didn’t sound convincing. The tax law thing—you want that?”
She hesitated. “I mean, it’s practical.”
Nate’s frown deepened. “That’s not what I meant.”
Her nails pressed crescents into her palms. Nate didn’t understand he wasn’t asking about a job.
He was asking whether she’d been raised to dream…
or deliver. He couldn’t know someday she’d be expected to marry in a way that steadied markets.
To have a baby not just because she wanted one, but because Valenstadt required one.
And that hit too close.
“It’s not like you’ve got everything figured out,” she shot back, sharper than she intended.
“Okay. Fair. Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Guilt rushed in, hot and immediate. She scrubbed a hand over her face. “No. I’m sorry. That was out of line. I’m hungover. And…” She gestured at the sun, the flowers, as if that made sense of it. “Everything.”
He studied her for a long second. Like he was waiting for the truth to surface. It unnerved her. “All good,” he said at last.
They rounded a bend, and the path dipped toward the lake.
The view arrived all at once, theatrically perfect.
The water was glassy, a ferry stitching a white seam across it.
On the far shore, Geneva rose in layered slate and tile rooftops, office blocks pressing up against church spires.
Beyond it all, the Alps lifted in pale blue bands.
Nate shaded his eyes, squinting at the mountain looming just beyond the cityscape. “Okay, nerd, I’m guessing you know what that one’s called.”
She sniffed. “Ouch. And yes. That’s the Mont Salève.”
He let out a low whistle. “Man. This country is just showing off.”
She opened her mouth. “Actually—”
“Don’t you ruin the magic.”
“—it’s in France,” she finished anyway.
He groaned, tipping his head back. “You had to,” he muttered.
“I really did. There’s a cable car to the top,” she said, pointing. “I haven’t been since I was ten.”
He turned to her, a grin breaking across his face. “Let’s do it.”
“Like, now now?”
“Why not? Other plans?”
“I was kind of thinking,” she said slowly, “dark room, feeling sorry for myself.”
He considered her with mock gravity. “Counteroffer: top of a mountain, feeling sorry for yourself.”
Allegra hesitated. Altitude plus a hangover sounded irresponsible. Possibly fatal. At minimum, deeply whiny. But there was him, standing there with that infuriatingly hopeful expression, as if her yes was already penciled into the universe and he was simply waiting for her to catch up.
“We’ll stop at a bakery,” he added, sensing the wobble. “Get coffee. Croissants. Medicinal levels of butter.”
Shit.
This was a terrible idea. She should be lying low. Her father’s people were likely already staking out hotels, hunting for their wayward princess. And yet… if the world was closing in, wasn’t this exactly the sort of moment she’d regret not taking?
“Fine,” she said at last, because anything more honest would’ve cracked her wide open.
His smile was slow and victorious and entirely too pleased for a man who’d simply suggested carbohydrates.
“So let’s go,” Nate said.