Encouraged by his openness, I say, “I know this might sound odd to you, but when my parents and the Prime Minister told me about this arrangement between us, something about it felt right, like fate almost.”
“Fate?” he asks. “It was a decision made by our parents and governments for the benefit of our respective countries.”
And there’s the Prince.
“I don’t mean any ofthat. I mean that when I knew this was going to happen, it felt to me like it was meant to be. Thatwewere meant to be.”
He studies my face, my hand still clasped in his. He opens his mouth as if to respond, then closes it again.
For a heartbeat, I wonder if he thinks I’m naïve. Or ridiculous. Or if he’s simply feeling more than he’s ready to admit.
I know which I want it to be, and I’m sure I felt that connection between us out there in the festival. He must have felt it. He must.
There’s a knock on the door that makes us both jump.
“Come in,” Fred calls out.
The door to our suite opens and Tommaso, Fred’s private secretary, steps inside. “Your Royal Highnesses, my sources informed me that a lantern release is about to take place outside to mark the end of the festival. It’s a local tradition, and apparently quite something to see.”
“Thank you,” Fred replies.
“Can we go and see it?” I ask, reluctant to let this moment between us slip away.
“You will be able to see it from the balcony, ma’am,” Tommaso says. His heels click softly against the hardwood floor as he crosses the room and pulls open the French doors. Cool night air drifts in, carrying distant voices and music from the square below.
“Come on, Fred,” I say. “Let’s go watch the lanterns.”
After a brief pause, he lets me lead him onto the balcony.
“Thank you, Tommaso,” Fred says over his shoulder.
Tommaso smiles and inclines his head. “I’m told it’s quite romantic.” He closes the doors behind him, leaving us alone once more.
“Quite romantic, hmm?” I tease.
“We’ll see about that,” Fred replies, in his usual measured tone.
Then he points at the sky. “Look.”
Low in the sky, the first lantern drifts upward, its soft glow cutting through the darkness. Soon, another follows. Then another until dozens of them rise together,floating gently, dotting the sky with warm sparks of color against the inky blue of the night.
“Oh,” I breathe. “Aren’t they stunning?” My heart swells with wonder as I watch them climb higher, carrying wishes and quiet hopes into the dark.
“They are,” Fred replies, his voice rougher than I expect.
I turn to him and catch him watching me, his attention unwavering. My heart stumbles, then races. I grip the balustrade overlooking the town below, steadying myself as I swallow hard. If I ever doubted that he felt something for me, I don’t anymore.
“Astrid, I—” He breaks off.
I inch closer to him. “What, Fred?” My voice comes out breathy, lighter than I intended. “What were you going to say?”
His gaze lifts past me. “More lanterns,” he says, as though clinging to the safest thing he can name.
I follow his line of sight. The sky is now thick with them, dozens upon dozens of glowing lights drifting upward, turning the night into something luminous.
“It’s perfect,” I say, and when I look back at him, he hasn’t moved away.
In fact, he’s closer. Close enough that there are a mere handful of inches between us. And then, carefully, he reaches for my hand, taking it gently in his. I catch my breath. My whole body hums at the contact, as if something has finally clicked into place.
