Chapter 49 Something Just Like This #2
“You know,” she managed, trying to maintain some semblance of her usual composure even as his touch unraveled her, “for someone who took months to kiss me the first time, you’re remarkably efficient now.”
Alexander laughed against her skin, the sound vibrating through her. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this.”
“Have you now?” she asked, aiming for teasing despite the breathlessness in her voice.
He drew back just enough to meet her eyes, his own dark with want and something deeper, more vulnerable. “Every day since I first saw you in the archives,” he admitted. “Looking up at me like I was interrupting something important.”
“You were,” she reminded him, though there was no heat in it now.
“I know.” His smile turned rueful. “I’ve been interrupting your life ever since.”
Emilia shook her head. “Not interrupting,” she corrected softly. “Improving it.”
Something in his expression shifted, the careful restraint he always maintained giving way to raw emotion. Without warning, he swept her up, one arm beneath her knees, the other supporting her back.
“Alexander!” she gasped, startled by the sudden movement.
“Problem?” he asked, already carrying her toward the adjoining room.
“You could have warned me,” she muttered, though she couldn’t quite keep the smile from her lips as she looped her arms around his neck.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he countered, his eyes bright with a playfulness she’d glimpsed only in their most private moments.
As he gently set her down on the edge of his bed, Emilia caught his wrist, keeping him close.
Alexander leaned in, kissing her again, his weight pressing her back into the mattress, and Emilia surrendered to the sensation of finally, finally having the one thing she’d been afraid to let herself want.
His hand slid beneath the fabric of her open blouse, warm against her skin, and she arched into his touch with a quiet gasp. “Tell me again,” she murmured against his throat.
He didn’t need to ask what she meant. Alexander drew back, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that stole her breath. “I love you,” he said, the words a vow. “And this time, I’m not letting anything stand in our way.”
And as his lips found hers again, as his body settled against hers with the inevitable rightness of coming home, Emilia finally allowed herself to believe it might be true.
Because when it came to Alexander, despite all her defenses, all her caution, she had never really stood a chance. And for once in her life, she was perfectly content to let herself fall.
* * *
Morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting the royal apartment in a soft golden glow. Alexander woke first, consciousness returning slowly, then all at once as he registered the warm weight against his chest.
Emilia.
She was still asleep, her breathing deep and even, chestnut hair spilling across his shoulder and onto the pillow.
One of her hands rested on his chest, just above his heart.
Their legs were tangled beneath the sheets, her body curved perfectly against his as if they’d been designed to fit together.
For a long moment, Alexander simply watched her, cataloging details he’d never had the luxury to observe before—the tiny freckle near her temple, the slight curve of her lips even in sleep, the way her eyelashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks.
The sight of her here, in his bed, still seemed impossibly precious.
Fragile, despite everything they’d said, everything they’d done.
He had spent so long wanting this, wanting her, that having her now felt like a dream he might wake from at any moment.
Careful not to disturb her, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers lingering against her skin.
Emilia stirred, her brow furrowing slightly before her eyes fluttered open. For a second, confusion clouded her features—then recognition dawned, and her lips curved into a soft, sleepy smile that made his heart ache.
“Hi,” she murmured, voice husky from sleep.
“Hi,” he replied, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands, his face, his entire being. They’d crossed every line last night, but somehow this felt more intimate—this quiet vulnerability, this unguarded moment before the world intruded.
She seemed to read his uncertainty, because her smile widened as she stretched slightly against him. “You’re thinking too loudly,” she observed, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “Even before coffee. Impressive.”
Alexander couldn’t help but smile back at her. “I didn’t think you were a morning person.”
“I’m not,” she admitted, shifting to rest her chin on her hand, looking up at him. “But I’m making an exception today.”
“For me?” he asked, threading his fingers through her hair, still slightly amazed that he was allowed to do so.
“For the view,” she corrected, with the teasing lilt he’d come to crave. Her eyes, however, remained on his face, studying him with the same intensity he’d felt watching her sleep.
“Ah,” he said, “and here I thought it was my sparkling morning conversation.”
“That too,” she conceded, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Though I should warn you, I reserve judgment until after caffeine.”
He laughed, the sound surprising him with its ease. When was the last time he’d woken up laughing? “I’ll keep that in mind.”
A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the palace coming to life beyond his doors. Soon, the world would come rushing back in—meetings, obligations, the machinery of monarchy that never stopped turning. But for now, this moment was theirs alone.
Emilia seemed to follow his thoughts, because her expression grew more serious. “What happens now?” she asked quietly.
It was the question they’d avoided last night, too caught up in each other to care about consequences. But morning brought clarity, and with it, reality.
He traced the curve of her cheek with his thumb. “Now,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “we figure it out. Together.”
“That’s very diplomatic of you,” she replied, though her tone remained gentle. “But not very specific.”
Alexander sighed, shifting to face her more fully. “I meant what I said last night. I’m not letting you go again, Em. Whatever that means, whatever we have to do—”
To his surprise, Emilia didn’t immediately counter with practicality or point out the thousand obstacles still standing in their way. Instead, she studied him with a mixture of wonder and something that looked almost like fear.
“You mean it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s still a risk, even with the shift in support.”
He captured her hand, bringing it to his lips. “What’s the alternative? Go back to pretending? Just carry on and act like I don’t—” he broke off, swallowing hard. “Like I don’t love you?”
The words hung between them, more powerful in the morning light than they had been in the heat of the night.
Her eyes softened. “No,” she agreed. “I couldn’t do that either. Not anymore.”
Alexander felt something tight in his chest begin to unravel. He hadn’t realized until that moment how afraid he’d been that morning would bring regret, that she would pull away, retreat behind the careful walls they’d both maintained for so long.
“So we don’t go back,” he said firmly. “We go forward.”
“How?” she asked, not challenging, but genuinely curious. “What’s the plan, Your Highness?” The title was softened by the gentle teasing in her voice, by the way her body remained pressed against his, by the intimacy they’d already shared.
“First,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, “we start with this.”
He kissed her, slow and deliberate, savoring the way she melted against him, the small sound of contentment she made as her fingers threaded through his hair. It was different from last night’s desperate need—this was a promise, an affirmation.
When they finally broke apart, her eyes remained closed for a moment, as if holding onto the sensation.
“That’s a good first step,” she agreed when she opened them again, a hint of color in her cheeks. “And second?”
Alexander smiled, tracing the line of her spine beneath the sheet. “Second, I talk to Thomas.”
Emilia blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. “Thomas?”
“He’s already helped us before,” Alexander pointed out. “And he knows the palace, the royal household, better than anyone. If we’re going to do this—really do this—we need more allies in the palace.”
She nodded slowly, understanding dawning. “And third?”
“Third,” he said, more seriously now, “we deal with the aftermath of my mother’s concession.”
Emilia’s eyes widened slightly. The Queen’s retreat from forcing the engagement had been shocking to everyone who knew her. The statement from the Crown had been brief, clinical—but the implications were enormous.
“Do you think she’s truly given up?” Emilia asked, unable to keep the skepticism from her voice. The Queen wasn’t known for surrendering battles, especially not ones she’d invested so much in.
Alexander’s expression turned thoughtful. “Not given up,” he corrected. “Retreated strategically. She saw the tide turning—Parliament, the press, public opinion. She knows when a battle can’t be won.”
“What does that mean for us?” Emilia asked, the question hanging between them like a tangible thing.
“It means,” he said carefully, “that for the first time, we have room to breathe. To figure this out without an immediate threat hanging over our heads.”
Emilia studied his face, looking for doubt, for hesitation. “You defied her,” she said softly. “That can’t have been easy.”
A shadow crossed his features. “It wasn’t. But some things are worth fighting for.”
His eyes met hers, unwavering. “Some people are worth fighting for.”
She searched his face, looking for doubt, for hesitation. Finding none, she nodded, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “True.”
Before he could respond, a discrete knock sounded at the outer door of his apartment. They both froze, the real world intruding more quickly than either had anticipated.
“Your Highness?” Thomas’s voice, perfectly modulated to carry without shouting.
“I apologize for the early hour, but you requested a briefing before the trade conference and I also need you to review Lord Davenport’s notes ahead of the charity committee meeting.
Last but certainly not least, there are several calls from Parliament members regarding the Queen’s statement. ”
Alexander closed his eyes briefly, the reality of their new situation setting in. His stand against his mother had set things in motion that couldn’t be undone. “Just a moment, Thomas,” he called, keeping his voice steady.
He looked back at Emilia, who was already sitting up, sheet clutched to her chest, the spell of their morning bubble clearly broken.
“Em—”
“It’s okay,” she said quickly, though her expression had shifted, some of the warmth replaced by the practical efficiency he recognized from their early days working together. “You have responsibilities. I understand.”
“Come here,” he said, catching her wrist before she could pull away further. He drew her back to him, capturing her lips in a kiss that he hoped conveyed everything he didn’t have time to say. “This isn’t over,” he murmured against her mouth. “We’re just getting started.”
The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. “Go,” she said, giving him a gentle push. “Before Thomas has to break down the door. I suspect that would be harder to explain.”
Alexander laughed, pressing one more kiss to her forehead before reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed. As he gathered his clothes and headed for the bathroom, he paused to look back at her—hair tousled, sheet pulled to her chest, morning light making her skin glow.
“What?” she asked, self-consciousness creeping into her voice under his steady gaze.
He shook his head, memorizing the moment. “Nothing,” he said. “Just… stay there. I’ll be quick with Thomas.”
Her smile returned, small but real. “I’ll be here.”
And for the first time in longer than he could remember, Alexander believed that the world might actually bend to his will—not because he was a prince, but because some things, once found, were worth fighting for.
Even if that meant changing everything.
Even if it meant redefining what the monarchy could be.
Because in defying his mother, in standing against the engagement, in letting the world see him choose love over duty—Alexander had already started a transformation that would reshape his future reign. And with Emilia by his side, that future suddenly felt not just possible, but right.