“Thank you.” She released his hand and stepped away to give Frederick room to join her.
“Sir.” The captain bowed again. “Your suite has been prepared to your usual specifications.”
“Thank you.” Frederick gave an answering nod.
As soon as they were protected from view of anyone who might be gathered outside, Elise stopped, reached down, and pulled off her heels.
She let herself sigh and squished her toes into the carpet. “That is my favorite part about wearing heels,” she told Frederick. “Taking them off.”
“Then why do you wear them?” Elise found the confusion in his voice adorable.
“Because they’re expected. It’s part of the look expected for both actresses and, apparently, queens.” She didn’t know where to go, so she waited for Frederick to lead the way. “Not all of the time, of course, but far more often than I’d prefer.”
He motioned to a set of stairs - were they called stairs on a yacht? - and once again she went first. They went up two flights before he motioned to a set of double doors made of frosted glass with the royal crest on them.
Their suite.
The first thing she saw when walking through the doors was a wall. Odd. When she walked around it, the reason became clear.
The wall doubled as a headboard for the king-sized bed. When sitting up against it, she realized the view would be spectacular. Once they were out to sea a little bit, with theinterior lights turned off and the lights of the city burning in the distance, it would likely be magical.
“Your bath and closet are on that side,” Frederick told her, pointing. “Mine are on the other.”
This suite hadtwobaths? That surprised her.
“This is lovely, Frederick. How long have you had it?” She walked toward the sliding glass leading to an outdoor sitting area, skirt of her dress flowing behind her.
“A couple of years. The last one belonged to my father. I was never comfortable with using it as my own.” He gave a half-shrug. “I’m not overly comfortable living in the same suite my parents did. I can’t do much about that, but I could do something about the yacht.”
Elise walked out onto the deck with Frederick following closely behind. “Do you have to live there? Why would it matter if you live in a different suite? Isn’t the palace yours?”
“Technically, no. It belongs to the Royal Trust.” He leaned up against the polished wood of the railing.
She rolled her eyes and turned to lean her back on the rail next to him. “So technically it’s not, but the reality is that it’s your home. If you want to live in another suite, who is going to tell you no?”
“Probably no one,” he admitted. “But that’s the Monarch’s Suite. It’s called that because every monarch for…” Another shrug. “…I don’t even know how long has lived there.”
“Is there something you love about it? The view or layout or the furniture or something.”
“Not overly. The view is fine, but not my favorite. I have no real opinion on the layout or furniture. It’s functional, which is all I need. I spend far more time in my office.” He truly seemed to have no real preference.
“Then if you don’t have a connection to it, why don’t you talk to one of your aides or the house manager - or whoever would beappropriate - about finding a different apartment to live in?” The yacht began to move away from the dock.
A thoughtful look crossed his face. “I could do that.”
Had it really never occurred to him?
“The worst they could say is that I can’t for security reasons or some obscure rule,” he continued.
“If you can’t move, could you redecorate? Obviously, there would be some limitations because of the historical nature of the building, but I’d imagine some things could be updated or changed to suit your preferences.”
Frederick nodded slowly. “Our preferences.”
It took a second for Elise to understand the correction.
Elise would be moving in with him, even though she still hadn’t seen the suite for herself.
“Our preferences,” she agreed.
