His reply was not gentle. “Find her.”
The days stretched out long, uncomfortable and nerve-racking. Ines had never rebelled before inanyway—not against her father, not against Alexandre—her two captors, more or less.
Well, she supposed asking Alexandre for an annulment waskind ofa rebellion. An easing into it. Asking permission to be allowed to rebel? It hadn’t felt so much scary as exhilarating, necessary, groping forchange.
The way he’d reacted hadn’t exactlyscaredher. It had given her hope. That maybe here in the life she hadn’t chosen was something shecouldchoose.
Him.
Then disappointment. Because he’d never choose her.
But now, running away, she felt like she’d taken a dive into an icy ocean. She was cold and scared and lost at sea.
If not for Jonet, she would have turned back. To the comfortable and familiar, even if it was a little miserable.
Jonet was Ines’s cousin and oldest friend, who Alexandre had allowed Ines to hire as her personal assistant. Jonet’s loyalty was not to Alis or Alexandre, but to Ines. So when Ines had asked her to make the runaway arrangements, Jonet had jumped to do just that.
Jonet was handling all the travel. Keeping Ines out of sight as much as possible and doing all she could to keep her moves from being easily found out by Alexandre.
He was a king with endless resources, so no doubt hewouldfind her. She was not so foolish to think this was permanent, but if she could make ithardon him…
Well, maybe it was childish to want to punish him. Maybe she was childish. Maybe thenewInes could be childish and brave and terrified—all at the same time.
After a few days of crisscrossing Europe, keeping a low profile while Jonet handled things, they were now walking up a quaint, dirt walk to a small cottage in the middle of a forest. Ines did not know what country they were in, and she would not ask.
She did know they were meant to stay here for a while, as Jonet was satisfied they had not been followed.
Jonet marched forward, shoved a key into the lock and opened the door. She stepped inside, and Ines followed.
Inside it was dim, and all the furniture was covered. It was a bit musty, but nothing alarming.
“Home sweet home,” Jonet said brightly.
It reminded Ines a bit of a fairy tale. Like Princess Aurora’s cottage, and Jonet was her little fairy godmother flitting about making everything okay and safe. It left Ines feeling a strange kind of exhausted. She simply wanted to find a bed to sleep in for perhaps as long as Aurora had slept after pricking her finger.
“Jonet, I will never be able to repay you.”
“Let us not worry about repayments just yet.” Jonet moved into what Ines realized was the kitchen area. “It’s a bit rustic,” she said. “I know you’re not used to that, but luckily for you, I am.” While Ines’s father had always had money and they’d always lived in luxury, Jonet’s mother had married a man consideredbeneath the family’smeans. She had not grown up poor exactly, but there had certainly been lean times for Jonet’s family—and Ines’s father had refused to help his sister monetarily.
That was the kind of man her father was. Selfish. A little mean. But Ines had always lived comfortably. She knew her guilt over what Jonet had dealt with as a child was unwarranted, and certainly unwelcome, but she felt it all the same.
Jonet fiddled with the stove and started a fire in it, while Ines stood in the middle of the small cottage feeling more at a loss than she ever had in her whole life. Was running away any better than staying? Was having Jonet handle everything really the mark of a brave woman taking charge of her own life, her own wants?
Jonet looked over her shoulder at Ines. “Why don’t you pull off all the furniture coverings? We’ll get settled in.”
Right. Something to do. She wasn’t a queen here. She was a person like any other. She washerself, just like she’d always wanted to be. She tried to move toward the living room to remove the furniture coverings, but her legs wouldn’t move.
Ines couldn’t fathom why, but the only thing she could seem to do was stand there and sob as though she’d just losteverything.
Chapter Four
ALEXANDRE WASNOThis father. He reminded himself of this as he made plans to find his runaway wife.
He would not track her down like prey. He would be civilized.
Theywould be civilized, even if her running away was decidedlynot. Even if every time he thought about hersneaking out of the palacewith thatcousinof hers, something hot and mean erupted inside him.
But he would control it. All of it. He summoned Gabriel to his office so that it was clear it wasofficialbusiness. So that he could have a reminder that he was a good, calm, controlled king here in his minimalist office—the opposite of his father’s gaudy, gilt one that Alexandre had gutted and turned into a soft, feminine office for Ines.
