Her eyes snapped to his. “Tell me this isn’t for me.”
“It isn’t for you,” he said quickly.
She snorted. “Then who is it for?”
Shite. “I cannot answer that question at the present moment.”
“I’ll bet.” Her lips tightened. Kunigunde swiped the loose pages away to reveal the album he’d spent all this time compiling.
She flipped through the pages faster and faster.
Maps. Interviews. Timetables. Samples of livery. Lists of servants.
Her shaking finger tapped on a newspaper clipping detailing planned modifications to the accommodations the Balcovian royals were most likely to use.
“You’re lying,” she said tightly. “For who else would you be compiling an album of maps, customs, and security measures for an upcoming royal visit?”
“It’s not for you,” he repeated. “Though I may have thought…if you happened to find my work useful… It would be like poetry.”
“These are not poems,” she said flatly.
“It’s a metaphor,” he muttered, then blinked. Ametaphor. Itwaspoetry. “All I wanted to do was—”
She slammed the book closed. “Why must it be whatyouwant to do? Why can’t you respect howIwish to conduct my own life?”
A fair point. One to which he did not have a ready defense. He’d known she didn’t want outside interference, and it looked as though he’d gone ahead anyway. If only Graham weren’t sworn to secrecy about his own intelligence-gathering assignment!
“You—” The word exploded from her as though it were the start of a probably well-deserved tirade. But the recrimination went no further.
She visibly turned into a blank statue of herself. Spine tall, shoulders stiff, chin up, expression neutral. Dispassionate. Indifferent.
Her Royal Guard face.
“No.”Graham leapt up from his chair. “If you want to yell, then yell. You don’t have to be stoic. Not with me. I want to know you. I can deal with emotion.”
“I am guardingmyself,” she burst out. “Fromyou. I thought you listened to me. But nodding along when I talk does not mean you hear my words. You are just like my brothers. You don’t see me as an equal, but as a silly little girl in need of your protection and superior wisdom and oversight.”
“I don’t think you…I…” Graham tried to think. “I was never going to force my intelligence album upon you.”
“Were you not?” Her chin was still high, her dark eyes blinking rapidly. “You’re seated at this big table piled with journals and ink and paste, out of consideration for my wish that youceaseall attempts to insert yourself into a mission I must complete alone?”
“I’m sorry,” he tried again. Kunigunde was one of the most amazing women—one of the most competentpeople—Graham had ever met. He happened to be creating the same thing. He’d fantasized that working together would lighten the load for each of them.
But instead of helping her, he’d hurt her.
“I swear I never meant to—” He stopped, made a wry expression, then shook his head. There was nothing he was at liberty to say. “An apology isn’t an apology if it’s mostly excuses. And I am probably only digging my hole deeper.”
Her dark eyes begged him to understand. “If you did believe in me, then you would have believed your efforts superfluous. If you had faith that I could achieve my aim with my own abilities and on my own recognizance, there would be no need to do my work for me. Our conversation would have been: ‘I plan to be a Royal Guardswoman.’ ‘Go on, then.’ Full stop.”
Graham fundamentally did not agree that competent people should never accept the aid of other competent people. His king was employing him, just as she hoped hers would employ her. His family comprised eight extraordinarily competent individuals who dedicated the majority of their time to helping one another achieve countless things.
But Kunigunde’s point was that shewasn’thim…or part of his family. If she wanted to drink cold tea and ride a horse seated backward, that was up toher, not him.
Which meant Kunigunde would not simply reject his assistance inthiscircumstance. She was unlikely to ever want his help. Not in this or any other thing. She wasn’t looking for a partnership.
Graham’s gut twisted. That hecouldhelp wasn’t in question. Her objective was to accomplish it on her own. His meddling directly undermined that. Underminedher.
“What I’ve been searching for all my life is recognition of myownworth. Not you flaunting yours,” she said quietly.
