I need a hug from the one person who knows everything there is to know about me.
I find her in the conservatory, watering the orchids she’s always loved. She takes one look at me and drops her watering can, opening her arms and wrapping them around me.
“My darling girl, what’s happened?” she asks, and the concern in her voice brings out the tears I’d been holding in. I bury my head in her shoulder as she soothes me with her words, my shoulders heaving as I let it all out.
My public exposure as a fraud.
Max’s reaction to learning the truth.
That I was trapped in an impossible position.
The finality of his words when he told me to leave.
“Shall we have a nice cup of tea?” Nona suggests when finally, my tears stop.
“Okay,” I reply, my voice hoarse.
A few minutes later, we’re at the kitchen table, and Nona’s pouring us both a cup from her favorite teapot.
She pushes a cup and saucer across the table. “Take a sip,” she instructs, and I do as she says, the hot liquid sliding down and warming my throat. “Now, tell me all about it.”
“A journalist called Miranda Thorne discovered my real identity and published it inThe Post, along with a photo of Max and me kissing.”
“Oh, how dreadful! Did she name you?”
I nod.
“And did she connect you to your father and what happened to him?”
I nod again.
“How did she know? We’ve been so careful.”
“I’m not sure, but it’s all over social media now. Fabiana Fontaine is officially dead.”
She gives my hand a squeeze. “Oh, sweetheart. Does the palace know?”
A stab of pain shoots through me as I picture Max’s face. “I was there when Princess Amelia came in to tell Max about it. He…he didn’t take it well.”
And there we have it, the understatement of the year.
“Did you explain to him why you did what you did?”
“Of course I did, but he didn’t want to know.” I toy with my teacup. “He sent me away.”
“He’s shocked, that’s all. He’ll come around. You two were building something special together.”
I press my lips together, my heart tight in my chest. “I don’t think he will, Nona. He was pretty hurt.”
The way he looked at me was like a lightning strike, straight to my heart. I hurt him. He put his trust in me. I might have wanted to tell him who I really was, but the truth of the matter is I hadn’t. Even when we shared the bed at the inn, when we kissed that first time in the ball pit, when he drove me back to the city. I put it off. I let my fear get the better of me.
And look at how that worked out.
His words ring in my ear.There is nothing you can say that will change the way I feel.
“I don’t think I’ll be hearing from the prince any time soon, Nona. Not unless he’s going to take legal action or something.”
“Legal action,” she repeats, appalled. “Why on earth would he do that?”
