“Perhaps we can do a three for one. Coronation-funeral-royal wedding ceremony,” Evelyne said on a hefty sigh.
Alextriedto keep his frown in place. Shewatchedhis lip twitch ever so slightly though. She’d amused him in spite of himself.
And that’s how she knew she was finally, really home.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gabriel had neverminded a royal event before, but he’d never had to attend one aspartof the royal family. In the past, he’d shown up as a guest, which required almost nothing from him.
Now he was involved in a flurry of events, meetings, debriefings, fittings, plans. Because he was to be anearl. Gabriel tried not to be bitter about such things. If he’d wanted to steer clear of royalty, perhaps he should have kept his pants on.
First, Alexandre had announced the king’s passing and Evelyne’s return. He let the people draw their own conclusions about that and enacted a small, private funeral that was photographed for the Alis papers. No videos were permitted. No public ceremonies were planned.
None of the former king’s citizens protested, though there was some grumbling from the general and his army. Gabriel did not know what Alexandre did to handle it, but it was handled.
And then coronation arrangements went into full force. The planning was giving Gabriel a headache, and he could only take so many work calls to get himself out of fittings and meetings to go over protocol. Because it wasn’t just Alexandre’s coronation. The marriage and Evelyne’s pregnancy would be announced and then Gabriel would also be given his title.
It was to be a day of looking forward to a positive future, so Alexandre and Evelyne said. Gabriel felt mostly dread. With his parents due to arrive tonight, the festivities beginning tomorrow, he did not know what else to feel.
This was not the life he’d planned—which only reinforced the strange notion he hadn’treallyhad a plan. Work. Be successful. Skate through life without following into the depths of rage and obsession that might otherwise grip him.
Was that a life? He didn’t like to think too hard on that question that lingered.
After ducking out of a protocol meeting to deal with some work, he tried to escape to Evelyne’s room, hoping she would be off with her own meetings and fittings.
But when he strode in, he found she was having a fitting right here. Someone had set up mirrors and one of those awful platforms, and two women were bustling about Evelyne dressed in her royal finery. They pinned this, tutted over that, made notes on little pads of paper.
But Gabriel simply stood and watched her. She looked so regal and at ease. A princess through and through. That tight fist of need centered in his solar plexus. He didn’t know how to fight it. Days and nights with her only seemed to make the band tighter and tighter.
Her gaze met his in the mirror. Her mouth curved like she could read his thoughts, and they pleased her. Did she not understand the ticking time bomb inside him?
“We’ll make these last-minute adjustments, ma’am,” one of the women said as the others began to tidy.
“Thank you, Joan.” The other woman helped her out of the dress. It looked like it must weigh as much as armor. Gabriel frowned a bit, wondering if he should intervene. She should be off her feet more, not worried about these frilly royal events. One of the attendants helped Evelyne into a robe, and she finally stepped off the platform.
Once finished, the women gave him little bows as they left the room.
Gabriel nodded at them, but his gaze stayed on Evelyne. She belted the robe above the swell of their child.
“Are you hiding from your protocol meeting?” she asked, her smile amused rather than disapproving.
“I do not hide, Evelyne.”
“Of course not,” she agreed, making him want to smile.
He resisted. “Are you sure you should be putting yourself through all of this?”
“I feel fine,” she returned. “I always enjoyed this part of royal life. I know it sounds silly, but when Father was alive, I liked to think of it as a symbol. If I looked royal, then behaved as kindly and charitably to everyone I met, it meant that even thoughhewasn’t those things, there was some hope. For anyone who looked at me and saw those things.” She sighed heavily, looking away from her reflection in the mirror. “Perhaps Alexandre was right, and we were just complicit, and I like wearing fancy dresses.”
She didn’t look miserable exactly, but he could see just how Alexandre’s words at lunch the other day had disturbed her. Gabriel knew Alexandre carried ridiculous weights on his shoulders that weren’t his, but he hadn’t expected such from Evelyne.
“It’s far more complicated than that, as I think you know,” he told her with some force. “Complicit victims are still victims.”
She looked up at him, a smile on her face. “I’m glad you think so.”
When she looked at him like that, a hint of vulnerability in her happiness, he wanted to say a million things that would cause her to look at him just so. Like he was always her savior.
“I don’t like to think of myself as a victim though. Look around, Gabriel. It was hardly a hardship.”
