“And you’ll see combat if there’s a war.”
“Yes.” He still held her caged in his arms, her back to his front, as if the closeness could take away the pain of the thought of him in danger.
She mulled that over in silence. Brayden was powerful, but the idea of him risking his life in combat gutted her to her core.
“Listen,” he said as he stroked her skin gently. “Let’s not dwell on tomorrow’s problems. I’m glad we’re talking about the future, but let’s get through the next couple of weeks before we worry about long-term plans.”
She was about to retort that it was easy for him to be calm when he’d known for longer than five seconds he was going to bethe head of the military, but before she could, there was a knock at his door.
“It’s Lachlan. Are you two up yet? I’m sorry to interrupt, but Brayden, I want to brief you on Soleil military personnel before you go. We don’t have much time today.”
“Give me five minutes, and I’ll be right out,” called Brayden.
Scarlett sighed. Their time together was never enough, even when they were fighting.
“For the first time in my life, I want my own place,” grumbled Brayden.
Scarlett thought of Laylani, who was probably having her morning coffee in the Heroux home. The image made her seethe. “Me too.” She pried herself out of his lap. “Can I borrow some clothes?”
“Of course.” He pulled on his boxers and went to his wardrobe, grabbing a T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts and throwing them onto the bed next to her.
“Look,” she said as she pulled the clothes on. “You’re right—we should get through the next couple of weeks before we worry about the future. But once we’re in Soleil, we have to present a united front. Our marriage is going to be very public very fast. We have to—haveto—look like a happily married couple with our shit together, not a couple with no idea how we’re going to be together. If people think it’s not a real marriage, your visa could be denied or revoked. We also don’t want the press to pick us apart.” She hated the way she sounded. Obsessed with appearances, just like Laylani. The woman was haunting her from another country.
He pulled his pants on and faced her. “Of course.”
She stood in front of him, dressed in his clothes, and pressed herself to his chest. “I am so happy you’re coming with me.”
“Me too,” he said gruffly, closing his arms around her.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
The train pulled out of the Clair de Lune station. Less than twenty-four hours after marrying Brayden, Scarlett was on her way back to Soleil. Her throat was thick as her grandmother and Lachlan disappeared from view, but Brayden coming back with her,as her husband, distracted her from some of her anguish. His presence next to her was comforting, even if the evolution of their relationship was giving her whiplash. Enjoying their newfound love without rushing into a visa marriage would’ve been ideal, but there was no question—she’d rather have him like this than not at all. She hoped they could go a few days without unearthing another major roadblock to their long-term happiness.
Beni pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled them on the table in front of them. “Want to play knights and knaves?”
“Sure,” said Brayden.
“I’ll play later, maybe,” said Scarlett. “I have some reading I want to do first.”
As they started a game, she reached into her bag, pulling out one of her mother’s diaries.
When she’d gone to her room to pack up her minimal belongings, Scarlett had looked at the box of Sabina’s journalswith regret, wishing she could take them all back with her. She’d spent twenty minutes rifling through it, trying to get a sense of how many years the diaries spanned. Finding one dated the year of Sabina’s death, she’d stashed it in her bag along with a journal from the year she was born. Then she’d taken the rest to Brayden’s room and set them in his bureau, figuring they’d be safe there while she was away.
Now she opened the older of the two journals she’d taken. Her mother’s messy cursive script was familiar from the handful of birthday cards she’d given Scarlett, which she kept safe in a drawer at home.
Scarlett read a couple of entries at the beginning. The mundane was beautiful in her mother’s words. Scarlett savored Sabina’s observations of social events in Soleil, chuckling to herself at her accounts of lords and ladies, a couple of whom she knew in present day.
Her heart ached as she read entries about herself as a baby. It was obvious her mother loved her so, even through the trials of being a new parent with a spouse who was often absent. Sabina had accepted help from a nanny during the day, but she’d insisted on doing all the nighttime care herself rather than getting a night nanny like most of the Soleil upper class. As a result, many of her entries mentioned sleep deprivation on days when Scarlett had been up in the night several times. She’d never known how her mother had cared for her.
Then her heart skipped a beat as she spotted her stepmother’s name.
Laylani Ashworth sat next to me at the state banquet last week, and I think she’s my new favorite person. Jules was sitting at the other end of the table when Lord Leon made some idiotic remark about Jules marrying me despite me being from Clair. He waslooking down at my chest as he said it, implying in the grossest way possible that Jules had married me for my looks. Laylani overheard the comment and told him he wouldn’t get the time of day from any woman on the continent if he wasn’t a lord. I’ve never been so pleasantly surprised. Nor have I had someone from Soleil stand up for me that way. Except for Jules, of course. Laylani and I spent the rest of the dinner talking. She’s quite funny. She invited me to attend fashion week with her in a fortnight, and I look forward to seeing her again. I need more friends here. Real friends.
After that came several journal entries detailing Sabina’s efforts to publish in a Soleil-based scientific journal. There was no mention of fashion week, nor how it had gone.
Scarlett picked up the newer journal, ready to read some of her mother’s last entries. Another mention of Laylani immediately jumped out to Scarlett.
