Chapter Twenty-Four
“Surprise.”
Allegra jerked, sending a tiny swirl of champagne sloshing over the rim of her glass. She squeezed her eyes shut. Opened them.
Nope, still there.
Nate, in a dinner suit that fit like it had been borrowed under protest, shoulders straining at the seams, cuffs riding up to reveal flashes of ink.
His face was clean-shaven, unfamiliar enough to throw her.
His hair was longer than the last time she’d seen him, curling at the collar as if he hadn’t quite decided who he was meant to be tonight.
Allegra’s fingers twitched. Then moved. She grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the wall, the tray of champagne flutes in his hand rattling dangerously. “Nate, what the fuck are you doing?” she hissed. “You shouldn’t be—”
“I know,” he cut in. “But it was the only way to speak with you.”
Her grip tightened as Ambassador Palmer floated by, bald head pivoting toward them. “If my father sees you—Jesus, how did you even…?”
A sheepish grin tugged at the corner of Nate’s mouth. “Clara.”
Allegra jammed a knuckle into her eye socket, pressing hard enough to see stars.
“Of course she did.” Her tone was clipped, irritated, like this was an inconvenience, like her pulse wasn’t currently attempting to escape her body via her throat.
“You have no idea what kind of trouble you’ll be in if—”
“Look, I couldn’t let things end the way they did.” Nate’s voice dropped. “I shouldn’t have kept my past from you. I fucked up, okay? And—”
“Not. Here.” Allegra’s voice was a whisper-shout, eyes darting past him to where Lady Whitmore watched with thinly veiled curiosity.
She forced a grin and let go of Nate’s arm.
“Meet me in the library. Ten minutes.” Then she turned, tipped her glass toward Lady Whitmore in a silent toast, and slipped away.
“?a va?” Julien asked, brow furrowing as she sidled up beside him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, no, it’s just this dress,” she lied, plucking at the bodice. “It’s a little tight, is all.”
Julien hummed, eyes narrowing. “Really? You’ve been off all evening. More than usual.”
She rocked on her heels, buying herself a precious second. “Actually, I—uh—need to adjust the boning.”
“Putain. Now?”
“I know, I know,” she said, a smile plastered on. “It might take a few minutes.”
His eyes locked onto hers, assessing. For a heartbeat, she thought he might call her bluff. Then he exhaled, sharp. “Christ, just make it quick.”
***
The heavy oak door of the library groaned as Allegra pushed it open, the sound swallowed by the towering shelves of leather-bound books she’d never been allowed to dog-ear, much less read without supervision.
She slipped inside and closed the door behind her, sealing out the party—or trying to.
The muffled hum seeped through the crack: laughter, clinking glasses, the distant swell of a string quartet playing Clair de Lune.
Nate stood near the empty fireplace, hands on the mantel, his back rigid as if he were holding himself in place. Or holding himself back.
She cleared her throat.
He spun around so quickly his elbow clipped an antique globe, sending it wobbling on its stand. “Allegra. Hey.” The dim light from the sconces cast long shadows across his face, sharpening the angles of his cheeks.
She gestured vaguely, like this was casual and not the emotional equivalent of juggling knives. “Wow. Look at you. Guess Clara really committed to the whole ‘smuggle-a-man-into-a-palace’ bit.”
His gaze dragged over her, snagging on her crimson hair. “And you look…” His voice roughened. “Like you always do. Stunning. Even when you’re pissed at me.”
Allegra crossed her arms, the beads of her gown digging into her skin. “Flattery won’t fix this, Nate.”
“I’m not trying to fix it. I just—I needed to explain. Then I’m gone. I swear.”
“Okay, so explain.”
His eyes slid shut, just for a second. When he looked back at her, they were darker.
“It’s like… feelings were a hard pass in my world.
I learned real fast how to shut that part off.
Then you showed up, and suddenly I was terrified, because for the first time in my life I was thinking, please don’t let me fuck this up. ”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m not ashamed of my past. But I didn’t want you deciding who I am now because of it. I know that doesn’t excuse it. I should’ve trusted you to make up your own mind. Instead, I made it worse.”
Allegra’s arms dropped. She realized she’d moved closer, like her body had decided before her brain could protest.
“These last few weeks have been… yeah,” Nate said, running a knuckle along his forehead.
“I took that job with my brother—no clue what I’m doing, and he’ll probably fire my ass.
But I want to create something that matters, you know?
Something that maybe you’ll see someday and go, ‘Damn, that’s cool. I know the idiot who made it.’”
He shrugged, a little helplessly. “I didn’t come to sabotage your engagement. It’s your life. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. And that you deserve someone who makes you happy. Really, truly happy.”
And God, the way he said it—the calm, measured words—made her want to scream, laugh, and cry all at once. Because it hurt a thousand times worse than if he’d fallen to his knees and groveled.
“Yeah,” Allegra said, her pulse ricocheting against her ribs. “So, I wasn’t exactly honest with you either.”
Nate’s brows lifted. “Not exactly?”
She gave a brittle laugh. “Fine. I lied. A lot.” Her palm pressed to her chest, as if she could steady the chaos in there. “But not about you. Never about how you made me feel.”
Allegra gulped. “You probably think that’s insane, right? That I could pretend but still—”
“Not crazy,” Nate cut in, his eyes burning into hers.
“Oh.” The word came out breathless. “It’s just… I fake smiles for a living. I measure every word. I tilt my chin the correct royal degree. With you, I could just exist. Hungover and sarcastic and not especially impressive. And you never once asked me to be anything else.”
She looked away, her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress.
“But wanting something doesn’t mean you get to keep it.
You should’ve told me—yeah—but I’m not innocent here either.
I used you. Like you were some escape I could step into for a while…
and then walk away from when my real life caught up with me. That wasn’t fair.”
“So that’s why you’re doing this?” Nate’s voice was raw. “Because your ‘real life’ means all that royal bloodlines crap? Marrying someone who was made to order for the throne?”
“Yes. No. I mean… it’s more complicated than that.”
“Okay?”
She drew a breath through her nose, the way she’d been taught to do when panic threatened to leak out. Composure is kindness, one of her tutors had liked to say. “This tabloid, Blitz, tracked us down. They’d have ripped you apart, Nate. Your brother’s company too, just for being connected to you.”
Her voice shook despite the calm she was trying to hold on to.
“Then they’d go after your mom. Ambush her in the cereal aisle.
Make her life a circus.” Her fingers curled.
“I can survive them. They’ve been stalking me my whole life.
But you’re trying to start fresh. If this story got out, it would stick. No one would give you a chance.”
A trembling exhale. “This way, they’ve got a wedding to salivate over instead.”
Nate stared at her, stunned. “No. Allegra, fuck no. You don’t get to sacrifice yourself for my choices. I won’t let you.”
She forced a weak smile, but her eyes were glistening. “This isn’t your decision. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. I’m doing what’s best. For you. And for Valenstadt.”
“And who,” Nate shot back, voice splintering, “is doing what’s best for you?”
The question hit harder than any accusation. She turned away, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. Because if she looked at him, she’d unravel right there on the Persian rug. And princesses did not unravel.
Her hand reached blindly for something solid and landed on the spine of a book: The Art of Noble Comportment. She traced the gilded letters with her fingers, pretending to read.
Swallow it. Straighten. Divert.
“Anyway,” she chirped, her voice vaulting into a register usually reserved for ribbon cuttings, “I may have cyberstalked you. Swore I wouldn’t. Gave myself an entire speech about curiosity and dead cats.”
Nate’s head tipped back. “You really shouldn’t have.”
“You’re probably right. It’s just… it’s a lot. There was this one scene. Underwater. With mermaids. And—” She winced. “God, why am I even saying this?”
Nate’s ears went pink. He hooked a finger into his collar.
“I don’t know what I thought I’d find,” she rushed on. “Or maybe I did. I just—they were fearless. Completely unapologetic.” She shook her head, staring hard at the book. “I’m not like them, Nate. I never had to be tough. I grew up… bubble wrapped.”
“Allegra, that’s bullshit.”
She spun, startled by the steel in his voice.
“You threw a ring at a man’s face on live television,” Nate said, taking a few steps toward her. “Escaped a literal palace to hole up in a budget hotel. Snuck out of your own engagement party just now to talk to me. That’s not bubble wrap. It’s badass.”
She let out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, well, on that—you realize if they catch you here, you’ll be locked up for trespassing.”
“I know.”
“And you came anyway.”
“Uh-huh.” He shifted closer, so his toes almost brushed hers. “They can throw me in the dungeon for all I care. I had to come. To tell you that I—” He broke off. “That I’ll miss you, Allegra. Okay?”
Her insides clenched. She couldn’t sit with it. Couldn’t let it fester. “Careful,” she said, flippancy snapping on like muscle memory. “You’d probably love it down there. I might’ve seen a clip—Dungeon Delights: Pegged and Paddled?”
Nate bared his teeth. “Oh my God. You did not. Never Google me again.”
Allegra snorted despite herself. Nate chortled, and for a heartbeat, they were back in Geneva, sprawled on the grass by the Rh?ne. Then the moment slipped away. The laughter thinned. The ache rushed back in.
“Who knows,” Allegra said, her throat suddenly thick. “In another life, maybe we could have been us. Together-us.”
“But not this one.” His nose twitched, eyes red-rimmed, as if he’d been fighting this moment for days. “You’re a princess.”
“And you’re—”
“—not the guy who gets the fairytale ending,” he finished.
She managed a watery smile. “I was going to say a washed-up porn star.”
“Right. That too.”
For a beat, they just stared at each other, neither moving, as if stillness might keep the moment intact.
“Well,” he said finally, “they’re probably looking for you by now.”
She nodded, unable to trust her voice.
“Goodbye, Allegra.” His hand flexed at his side like he wanted to touch her and didn’t dare. “I hope Valenstadt realizes how lucky they are to have you.”
The words landed like a benediction. Or a eulogy.
He pushed past her, the library door creaking open, then shutting with a devastating click.
Silence rushed in. She just stood there, squinting at the varnished paneling above the fireplace, her reflection warped and small. This was what she’d been groomed for. Sacrifice. Put the country first. Always.
What she needed to do was walk back into the ballroom, take her place beside her fiancé, and laugh politely when he made that joke again—about how, if they started right away, they could field a full forward pack by their tenth anniversary.
She could do it. She’d been doing it her entire life.
The future unspooled in her mind so clearly it squeezed the breath from her.
Ten years from now. A state bedroom that smelled faintly of lemon polish and expectations.
Silk sheets tucked so tightly they could pass a military inspection.
A husband who rolled over and pecked her cheek out of habit, not feeling.
Who never asked, “Are you happy?” Because as long as she looked composed, the answer didn’t matter.
And in the quiet hours she’d lie awake and wonder if Nate ever thought about her. If she wandered through his head the way he stubbornly wandered through hers. Nate, who’d seen her messy. Too loud. Too much. And instead of backing away, he’d apparently decided that was his favorite version.
If she let him walk away, she’d be choosing the facade over the only person who’d ever reached past it. Her chest tightened, then split wide open with something hot and terrifying and certain.
“Fuck that.”
She lunged for the door, banging it open. Nate was halfway down the corridor, hands deep in his pockets.
“Nate!” Her voice echoed off the marble.
He froze but didn’t turn, his shoulders rising on an inhale.
She marched up and spun him around, pushing him against the wall. His eyes widened as his back hit the stone.
He swallowed. “Allegra—”
“Shhh,” she blurted, her hands fisting his lapel.
“I’ve spent weeks telling myself this is the only way.
That I’m doing it for you. But the truth?
” Her voice cracked. “I’m scared. Because I love you, okay?
There, I said it. And that means wanting things I’m not supposed to want.
Needing someone I’m not supposed to need. ”
“I love you too,” Nate said hoarsely. “I tried not to. I swear to God, I tried. But you don’t have to—”
“That’s the point, Nate. I could marry Julien. I could play the perfect princess and do everything that’s expected of me. But none of it would mean anything, because you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I’m home.”
She pushed up on her toes. “So you can either kiss me right now or spend the rest of your life wondering what would’ve happened if—”
His mouth crashed into hers before she finished speaking.