“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Princess Anastasia said, her tone lacking inflection. “I am merely concerned for my brother.”
“And you don’t want to marry me,” he finished for her, daring to say aloud what he could read in her eyes each time she looked upon him.
“I want to do what is best for the people of Boritania, and that is marrying you,” she said, not refuting his claim.
“Do I frighten you, Princess Anastasia?” he asked, frowning at the thought.
He knew that he possessed a certain reputation. That he was bereft of the easy charm his brother possessed. That he was gruff and cold and aloof. But he would never harm a woman.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Of course not, Your Majesty.”
“Good.” Clasping his hands behind his back, he paced toward the fireplace, feeling distinctly cold. “I wouldn’t like to think you fear me.”
“There is something I must confess to you.”
He turned, casting a curious glance in her direction. “Yes?”
The princess squared her shoulders. “I’m in love with another man.”
“Tierney,” he guessed instantly.
Her lips compressed into a tight line. “It matters not. He is not here in Varros.”
“Then why do you tell me?” he asked, curious.
“Because I wish for our marriage to be an honest one. It seems inauspicious to begin it with lies.”
Their very marriage felt increasingly inauspicious to Maxim. He had spent the entirety of the betrothal feast wishing it had been Tansy at his side instead of Princess Anastasia. Wishing it would be Tansy he would make his wife. Tansy who would be his queen.
“Thank you for your honesty,” he told the princess. “To be candid, I’m in love with another woman as well.”
There. He’d said it. That elusive word he hadn’t spoken aloud since Mina.
Love.
He’d admitted he was in love with Tansy.
It felt…liberating.
Right.
Princess Anastasia’s chin went up, her countenance turning guarded. “May I ask whom?”
It seemed damned unwise to admit being in love with her lady-in-waiting to the princess. But he wasn’t going to lie. His love for Tansy wasn’t shameful. He was proud of it, proud of her.
“Lady Tansy is the lady in question,” he said simply.
“I’m relieved to hear that, Your Majesty.”
He was about to ask why when a knock sounded at the door to the chamber, signaling the arrival of her brother.
Perhaps the interruption was timely. He wasn’t certain it was wise to reveal more of the details of his feelings for another woman to his future wife.
“You may enter,” he called, turning to the portal.
It swung open, and for the first time, he stood face-to-face with the exiled and rightful king of Boritania.
“Your Majesty,” Maxim greeted him warmly.
