nine
ALEXANDER
Alex took a deep breath as his car approached the Campo’s residence. Rebecca’s parents still lived on the palace grounds—her father, Ettore, was Head Groundskeeper, and friends with his own father to boot—but there was a chance he could retire soon. If that happened, they’d have to give up their home and leave the palace, and he wasn’t sure how well Rebecca would handle that.
As his car stopped near the front of their home, he saw Ettore open the front door. Alex waited for his agents to do a quick sweep before opening the door for him and giving him the all clear to head inside.
He walked with confidence he didn’t seem to have and reached his hand out. “Ettore.”
Ettore bowed and shook his hand. “Your Highness.”
“I told you that you don’t need to bother with formalities unless we’re in public.”
“I remember.” Ettore gave him a smile, one that said ‘I know what you told me to do, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to you’.
Fuck.This conversation would be harder than he thought.
As a prince and future king, Alex was used to holding all or most of the power in the room. Yet, with this man, he’d always felt like a schoolboy being called into the principal’s office.
Francine, Rebecca’s mother, clearly didn’t share her husband’s feelings. She walked up to him and kissed him on each cheek. “Alex, it’s always lovely to see you. Would you like some tea?”
“Thank you, yes.”
“I’ll bring it out, Francine,” Ettore said, then headed for the kitchen.
“Bring the shortbread biscuits I baked earlier too.” Francine led him to the family room and gestured to the sofa. “Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
“How are you?”
“Worried about Rebecca.”
Francine nodded. “I can understand that.”
“Can you?”
“Of course. She’s had a lot to deal with over the last couple of years. We’ve been worried for her ourselves, but then we’re parents, so we always worry.”
Ettore brought in a tray and spent a few minutes serving tea, and they all settled. “So what specifically did you want to speak to us about?”
Alex took a fortifying sip of the strong brew, then set the cup down. He took a deep breath and outlined his concerns, especially around Rebecca sharing privileged information with them.
“I’m not insinuating you’re not trustworthy, not exactly. It’s only that there needs to be a…distance now. I’ll be king, and Rebecca will be queen. That puts both of us significantly more at risk, and it also increases your risk too. People will come after you now as the queen’s parents. Once the coronation is announced, I’d like for you to have some security and bodyguards. We’ll need to pay for it from our personal funds, but it would be for the best.”
Francine and Ettore glanced at each other, then Francine spoke. “Let’s, er, set the discussion about personal protection aside for the moment. I think both Ettore and I understand your position, but I think you’re misunderstanding a bit. Rebecca isn’t sharing state secrets or anything like that. She’s merely sharing her…frustrations and challenges with us.”
“But surely she’s sharing some details for context?”
“Not usually,” Ettore said and sighed. “Look, what Rebecca says or doesn’t say isn’t the point. We should be focusing on how shefeels, and she’s been struggling.”
Alex’s gut clenched. “I know that.”
“Not all of it, I’d bet. Not the worst of it.” Ettore outlined the months and even years—years!—of hate mail and threats she’d received, and the effects the negative attention had on Rebecca’s mental health.
Alex clenched his fists, anger bubbling under his skin. Ordinarily, he’d never show emotions so blatantly, but he couldn’t help it.
His wife was hurting, and she didn’t tell him. No one had told him. Wouldn’t Marcello have seen these? Why wouldn’t he have shared this with him if Rebecca hadn’t? Who else had been keeping this secret from him?
