My throat tightened as I crossed the room and lowered myself into the chair. The leather was cold against my legs. The desk between us felt like an ocean.
Does he know? I wondered. Does he know I’m not Lord Richard’s daughter? Is that why he’s looking at me like this—like I’m something dirty, something shameful?
“I won’t make this long,” Mik’hail said. “I think both of us would appreciate brevity at this point.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Our previous commitment to marriage is no longer binding.” His tone was clipped. Businesslike. “You will be provided a regular allowance as Aretha’s sister. The palace will continue to support you financially until you are able to support yourself.”
I had come here prepared to lie to him. Prepared to tell him I didn’t want him, that he was too old for me, that what we had was nothing but infatuation.
But hearing him say these things first—hearing him dismiss what we had with such cold efficiency—
It broke something inside me, and I just found myself dragging oxygen to my lungs...because I suddenly had a hard time breathing.
“I’m...I’m pleased to hear this.”
And speaking.
It was so much harder to speak, even though I had practiced the words for so many times.
“Because I also r-realized that you’re too old for me.”
This was the lie Aretha had asked me to tell. The words she had coached me to say, over and over, until I could deliver them without flinching.
“And t-that there’s so much I still want to do with my life. So much I want to experience.”
But now, looking at the coldness in his eyes, I realized I needn’t have bothered.
“I’m glad we see things the same way.” His voice was curt. “The palace staff will assist you in your departure. Your discrete cooperation is appreciated.”
That was it.
No argument. No protest. No desperate plea for me to stay.
Aretha had worried for nothing. She had been so concerned that Mik’hail would fight for me, that he would refuse to let me go. But looking at him now—at the stranger sitting behind that desk—I saw the truth.
He didn’t just want me gone.
He couldn’t wait to be rid of me.
“Of course, Your Highness.” I rose from the chair, my legs somehow holding me upright. “I’ll begin packing immediately.”
I turned and walked to the door.
I didn’t look back.
I just focused on what I should do next like...like walking.
And...and packing.
Yes, I had to pack because he wanted me gone.
Immediately.
So, first...clothes. Then...shoes. I was doing all of these things like a robot, but it also felt like I was watching myself at the same time while my mind was somewhere far away, replaying those moments in his study over and over.
Our previous commitment to marriage is no longer binding.
