I smirk, loving the way that sounds. “Thank you.”
“So, now what?” I ask. “Aren’t you going to tell my mother everything we discussed? Setting me up for another trap?”
“Not this time.” She moves toward the door and pauses. “I’m going to tell her that you and I had a lovely chat, that you’ve calmed down, and you’re considering your options.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you deserve to be happy.” Her voice softens. “I’ve been engaged twice, politically convenient matches, and not once has anyone looked at me the way you looked at Addison. That means something.”
“Tatiana—”
“I don’t want to marry someone who’s in love with another woman. If there was no one else, fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m twenty-eight years old. Far from an old maid. I’m beautiful, I’m intelligent, and I’m perfectly suited to be a queen. I deserve better than a husband who’s thinking about someone else every time we’re together.
“If you’re planning to go after her”—she looks me up and down—“do it before that dinner because once the engagement is announced, even with a fake you, the world will believe it.” She opens the door. “Good luck, Louis. You’re going to need it. Your mother is brutal.”
Tatiana knocks on the door, then opens it, and I see Davis in the hallway, guarding my door. Before it closes, I push my foot forward, leaving it cracked. His posture is rigid, his eyes forward, and he won’t look at me.
“Davis,” I whisper.
His head stays forward. “Your Highness, please close the door.”
“I need your help.”
“I can’t, Your Highness.”
I push the door open another inch and drop my voice so only he can hear. “I need to get off the grounds tonight. You know the security rotations because you’ve been part of them for weeks. You know the blind spots and when the shifts change and which guards pay attention and which ones don’t.”
His hands curl into fists at his sides. “They’ll arrest me for treason.”
“Then come with me.” I grip the door handle. “I’ll need protection, and you’re the only person in this palace I trust right now after being thrown to the ground and essentially arrested earlier.”
“Your Highness?—”
“I know what I’m asking and what it could cost you. Your career, your pension, your future here. Everything you’ve worked for.” I hold his gaze even though he won’t meet mine. “I’m asking anyway because you’re the only person who might actually help me.”
“My loyalty is to the Crown, Your Highness.” His voice is flat, rehearsed, like he’s reciting something he’s been told to say.
“I’m the Crown, Davis. Not my mother, not the council. Me.” I keep my voice low and steady. “I’m the future king of this country, and in three days, I’m going to be forced into an engagement announcement with a fucking look-alike standing in my place while the woman I love thinks I’ve abandoned her. You’ve shadowed me for weeks, and you’ve seen everything. Is that the Crown you want to be loyal to? One that uses body doubles and imprisons me for falling in love?”
His jaw tightens. “You’re a fucking asshole.”
I chuckle. “You’re not wrong.”
The silence stretches between us. The clock at the end of the hallway ticks. Boots against marble echo in the distance.
“But know that, otherwise, this is how it ends for me. I will be locked in this room while someone else lives my life. It’s death by a thousand cuts, Davis.” My voice cracks, and I let it because I need him to hear how much this costs me. “Either I get out of here tonight and fight for the woman I love, or I spend the rest of my life trapped, resenting every person who helped cage me.”
His eyes finally meet mine, and his nostrils flare. After a second, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His shoulders are rigid, and his hands are still curled into fists.
“I’m not asking as your prince, and I’m not ordering you.” I exhale. “I’m asking as someone who has lost it all. I have to do the right thing.”
His hands uncurl, and his posture shifts.
“Please, Davis.” I’ve never had to beg for anything in my life. “Help me get back to her. A private jet will be waiting for me at the airport. It won’t leave without me.”
I’m almost certain I’ve lost him. I’m already running through other options in my head, already trying to figure out who else could help.
“You owe me, Your Highness,” he says.
