“Your Royal?—”
“No!” Princess Anastasia cried out in most unusual fashion, interrupting. “No more. I’ll not have it.” Tears were streaming furiously down her cheeks, and she dashed at them with the back of her hand. “I don’t want to be a princess. I want to renounce my blood. To surrender the title and live the life I was meant to lead.”
“You mustn’t say such things.” Tansy moved to her, offering a soothing pat on the shoulder, wondering at her friend’s sudden disquiet. “You are overset.”
“Call me Stasia,” the princess demanded.
She had to reveal the truth. Now. She couldn’t wait another moment longer.
“I cannot,” she admitted. “I’m not worthy of the privilege. For I have betrayed you.”
“Betrayed me?” Princess Anastasia’s brows drew together, a question in her eyes that Tansy had no wish to answer. “How?”
Tears glistened in Tansy’s eyes, burning until she blinked and they trailed down her cheeks in warm rivulets, the result of her betrayal. “I’ve fallen in love with King Maximilian.”
“In love with him?”
Tansy closed her eyes, too anguished to hold the princess’s gaze. To look at her, for fear of the disgust and loathing she would see reflected there. All of which would be so richly deserved.
She had betrayed her in the worst possible way, and more than once, in thought, word, and deed.
“Yes,” she whispered, hating herself.
Hating her answer.
Loving Maxim anyway.
“Oh, Tansy.” The princess’s voice held a note of sympathy. “When did this happen? How?”
Not fury, then, as she had feared. There was no betrayal to be heard. Instead, there was a tone of calm understanding. Of sad acceptance.
Tansy dared to open her eyes, forcing herself to meet her friend’s searching stare. “I’m not sure when or how. We’ve spent an inordinate amount of time together during your absence, and I…he…we…”
Her fumbling explanation trailed off, her cheeks going hot with the bitter sting of embarrassment. How could she possibly reveal to the princess that she had been intimate with her future husband? And not just once either. The words refused to emerge. She swallowed hard against a rising lump in her throat.
“I understand,” Princess Anastasia said, shocking her.
Tansy’s brows rose. “You do?”
Her friend gave her a forlorn smile, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ve fallen in love with Archer Tierney.”
She had known, of course, that Princess Anastasia intended to give herself to him. But she had never imagined she would also surrender her heart. What a muddled mess they both found themselves in, loving men they could not claim as their own.
“What do you intend to do?” Tansy asked, understanding all too well the fraught emotions on her friend’s countenance, for it reflected the heaviness swirling in her own heart.
“What I must do,” the princess said firmly, even as her ice-blue eyes filled with tears.
“You’re going to marry King Maximilian,” Tansy said, the words like knives cutting away at her tender skin. Straight to the marrow of her.
Princess Anastasia nodded, grim determination etched on her lovely face. “I haven’t any other choice.”
“I understand if you want to dismiss me from my position,” Tansy hastened to add. “Regardless of your feelings for Mr. Tierney, what I’ve done is unconscionable. It never should have happened.”
The princess’s brow furrowed. “It is more than love, then, that has passed between you and the king.”
It was a statement rather than a question.
She took a deep breath, knowing that she had to be completely honest, even if she didn’t want to admit the depths of her betrayal to her closest friend. “It was more,” she confirmed needlessly.
