“I saw you hadn’t eaten. Too busy talking.” Her shrewd gaze misses nothing. “Are you sure you’re only thinking of work? Nothingpersonalweighing on your mind?”
I give her a warning look. “Not here, Charlotte.”
“Of course not,” she agrees, though her eyes dance with poorly suppressed mischief. “But I can’t help but notice the captain has been watching you when he thinks no one is looking. And I could have sworn I saw you doing the same.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” She tilts her head slightly toward Rangi. I follow her gaze to find him watching me with eyes dark and serious. Our gazes meet, holding as a million words pass silently between us.
If only…
I break eye contact turning back to Charlotte only to find that she’s drifted away. Apparently, my sister is determined to play matchmaker.
The remainder of the afternoon passes in a blur of diplomatic meetings and ceremonial obligations. By the time the gathering begins to disperse, tension has settled between my shoulders—both from the weight of the political challenges ahead and from the anticipation of what might await at the meditation arch.
Victoria catches me as I’m preparing to leave. “Your Highness, the cultural heritage committee has requested a preliminary meeting tomorrow morning. They’d like to discuss the legislative wording for the sacred sites protection bill.”
I nod, grateful for her efficiency while simultaneously calculating how to arrange my schedule. “Thank you, Victoria. Please confirm for nine o’clock.”
“Also,” she adds, her expression carefully neutral, “the Queen mentioned you might be taking some personal time this evening. I’ve adjusted your security detail accordingly.”
I stare at her, momentarily speechless. Has the entire palace conspired to manage my personal life?
“Don’t look so alarmed,” she says, her professional mask slipping just enough to reveal a hint of amusement. “You’re not the first royal I’ve done this for.”
She withdraws, leaving me wondering exactly how many people are aware of whatever is—or isn’t—developing between Rangi and me.
Twilight settles over the palace grounds, painting the grounds in deepening shades of blue and purple. I’ve been walking the grounds for nearly half an hour, having escaped the last of my duties with barely concealed impatience.
What am I doing?
The question has echoed through my mind all day. What am I doing arranging clandestine meetings with a tribal captain? What am I doing risking scandal, distraction, conflict of interest when the sacred sites project faces such political opposition?
What am I doing listening to my heart when duty has always guided my path?
“You’re overthinking again.”
I turn at the sound of Rangi’s voice, finding him approaching along the garden path. He’s shed his ceremonial attire, dressed now in casual clothes that somehow emphasize rather than diminish his presence. In the fading light, with no one else to see, I allow myself to truly look at him—to acknowledge the way my pulse quickens at the sight of his broad shoulders, the warrior markings on his arms, the way his mouth curves into a smile that has haunted my dreams for years.
“Force of habit,” I admit, staying rooted to my spot beneath the meditation arch.
He comes to stand before me, close enough that I can catch his scent—a hint of ceremonial herbs, clean skin, and something uniquely him. “Some habits need breaking.”
We regard each other in the gathering dusk, the air between us charged with all that remains unsaid.
“You asked me to meet you,” I remind him when the silence stretches too long. “Is there something you need?”
“Maybe.” He steps closer, deliberately entering my space. “But first, I want to know if you’ve been honest with yourself since yesterday.”
His directness shouldn’t surprise me—Rangi has never been one for diplomatic evasion—but it still catches me off guard. “About what?”
His eyebrow lifts. “You know what.”
I consider deflection, evasion, all the tactics I’ve perfected over years in the public eye. But something about this place, about the way he looks at me, demands truth.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” I say finally. “About us. About you.”
“And?”
