Instead of looking angry, as Theo had hoped—because he could fight his brother’s anger—Xander simply looked sad.
‘Yeah, I know, because I was a bastard too until I met Poppy and she taught me that love matters. That it can heal. And until we had Gemma, and I realised how good life can be if you open yourself up to the possibilities. You can’t allow our past to define your future.’ He rested a heavy hand on Theo’s shoulder, the regret in his face so much worse than the anger. ‘I’m sorry yougrew up without a family, Theo. That’s my fault. I should have let the authorities split us up when he left and find you a family. Instead, I forced you to grow up without anyone to nurture and protect you…’
Theo shrugged off his brother’s hand. ‘Youprotected me,younurtured me. I didn’t need anyone else.’
Why was his brother rewriting history? And why was it making him feel as if a huge chasm were opening up under his feet and getting ready to suck him down into it?
‘I was twelve years old, Theo,’ Xander said, sounding broken, in a way Theo had never heard him sound before. ‘I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was selfish and scared, so I kept you with me. Because of me, you didn’t go to school. You grew up without boundaries, without rules. Which is why you think now that you can exploit that girl’s love, that you can do whatever you want and there won’t be consequences. But there will be.’
‘But I need her, and she needs me…’ he managed, trying to argue his corner, hating that deep down even his brother knew he could never be truly worthy of a woman as brave and smart and sweet as Freya.
‘It’s not enough, Theo,’ Xander said. ‘If you can’t or won’t or don’t know how to love her back, youhaveto let her go. Or she’ll end up hating you.’
Theo let out a shattered breath. It felt as if his brother had just sucker-punched him in the gut. But he couldn’t call the wedding off. He didn’t want to. Why couldn’t he have this one thing for himself?
He was trying to unknot his brain and figure out how he could make this all right when the bishop rushed back into the room without knocking, his robes flying.
‘Monsieur Caras, the prince’s staff cannot find the princess.’
‘They… What?’ Theo charged out of the office, to find the teams of advisers and assistants and press agents and securitypersonnel in an uproar with Prince Andreas in the middle of it all, shouting and screaming at everyone.
‘I will not tolerate this disobedience again,’ Prince Andreas shrieked, his face so red he looked as if he were about to explode. ‘Tell her if she does not return willingly her brothers will be returning to Italy…’
Something flowed through Theo’s veins that felt like pride, sweeping away everything but a fierce feeling of respect… And longing.
‘No, they won’t,’ he announced, striding towards the prince. ‘She’s their guardian now, Andreas, not you.’
‘Did you plan this, together?’ the prince asked, apoplectic with rage now.
‘I wish,’ Theo murmured, the pride and longing becoming a tidal wave.
Freya was magnificent—so brave, so smart, so strong. If only he’d realised how magnificent, before it was too late. Of course she’d run from him. Who could blame her?
‘I will have you arrested,’ Andreas said.
‘Yeah, whatever,’ Theo replied, dismissing the man and his threats.
‘It seems the princess has taken matters into her own hands,’ his brother remarked wryly from behind him.
Theo swung round and pulled his brother to one side, the sense of urgency blinding him. He had no time to lose. He’d been an idiot… And a coward. But maybe it wasn’t too late to make things right… All he had to do was bare his soul, admit he didn’t have one single clue what he was doing and not much to offer her… And beg her to forgive him.
‘How did you travel to Galicos?’ Theo asked in Greek, so the prince’s staff couldn’t understand them.
‘I had to come on the yacht, as you had already commandeered the company jet,’ Xander replied.
Was that a sign? Please let it be a sign. ‘Cover for me here. And let the yacht’s captain know I’ll be using the yacht next.’ He hoped.
Xander’s brows furrowed. ‘What are you planning to do?’
‘What I should have done days ago,’ he said. Then he headed for the back door of the chapel, raced through the corridors of the palace and ran across the winter garden in the falling snow towards the wall he had watched Freya try to scale once before.
The only difference was, now, she had scaled the walls of his heart.
Don’t stop, keep going, you can do it.
Freya strained, her arms like limp spaghetti as she pulled herself up the rope.
She couldn’t fail, not this time. Because there was no one coming to help her. This time she was truly alone.
