“He or she is not the heir, so it will be different.”
Her mouth tightened. “That is not what I meant, Alexandre. And you know it.”
Perhaps he did. But he didn’t care. It would not be his concern. She would raise the baby. His job as father was simply to guide the child in the ways of the palace. Because a king was a father to many—not just one.
Perhaps it was noteverything, but it would be better than anything his father had ever done for him.
His gaze moved, without him fully realizing it, to the stone with his mother’s name. And what had she done for him in those few years he’d had her?If I didn’t love you so much, everything would be different.
His father sobbing over an already-dead woman he was desecrating with hisfeelings.
“I meanlove, Alex,” Ines said quietly, as if she could hear his memories echoing around him. Using that weapon when he was at his weakest. “Our child will be loved. And I will loveyou. It is what we all deserve.”
Perhaps they did all deserve something so destructive, but he would not abide by it. Or her words. Or these memories.
Because he was the king, and nothing would be destroyed on his watch.
So he left her there.
And didn’t look back.
Ines stayed in the encroaching dark. There was something peaceful about this spot. Or maybe she was tired of crying, and she was afraid if she went into her bedroom, she’d just end up sobbing until she fell asleep.
It was silly to feel this crushed. She could not expect to get through to a person like Alexandre in one or two conversations. It would take time. To get through to him, to get to the source of his pain, and even once she understood it he would need time to heal from whatever it was.
Could he heal? She gave a little derisive snort. She should be worried about getting through to him atall. Healing was so far off it shouldn’t even be a consideration.
But they had achildto think about, and he still didn’t really acknowledge that. Maybe she didn’t either. Though she had symptoms, it still felt strangely not real. That a child should be growing inside of her.
And she still had months to accept the reality. To bring it on board. Forbothof them.
Trying to shake the disappointment and sadness and worry away, Ines made her way back to the palace. So she could not get through to him regarding his mother—which was no doubt at leastsomeof his pain, which seemed to be brought on by the idea oflove.
God knew Enzo had not loved his son. So the only love he could have gotten was from his mother. There had to besomethingthere, but he rejected letting her in. Letting her know.
He rejected everything when it came to her. Except sex. And even that she thought he’d reject if he could. But the powerful attraction between them was just a little too much to resist. She’d once seen that as a positive sign.
Now she wondered.
Once in her bedroom, she did as she’d feared. Cried herself to sleep and woke up feeling exhausted and achy, a headache from all yesterday’s tears drumming at her temples. She felt so poorly she didn’t even bother to get ready for the day. She simply trudged into the sitting room in her pajamas where tea and breakfast waited. And Jonet. Which wasn’t a great sign.
“Good morning,” Jonet greeted her brightly. A sure sign something was very,veryoff.
“What is it?” Ines asked. She had no polish, no strength to be anything but straightforward today.
Jonet shifted in her seat. She poured Ines a cup of tea. She took her time speaking.
“I have gotten a memo from the king’s assistant. The king has, uh, been required to travel into the city and attend an economic conference.”
“And I am being told this because…?”
Jonet blinked, clearly surprised by the acid in Ines’s tone. Ines might have been surprised too, but she was too tired to work up to conveying it.
“He will be staying in the city, and so he wanted you to know he would not be attending any meals or walks or appointments for a few days.”
Ines wanted to laugh—bitterly—but she didn’t have any energy for that either. “Of course,” she said instead. She looked at the tea, then waved it away. “I’m going back to bed.”
“Ines…”
