“Aren’t you?”
Alexandre frowned at Gabriel.Fearwas not what he felt. He was making decisions out of experience and determination. Notfearof hurt. “I would never hurt Ines. I am not worried about that.”
“I know. But love has always terrified you. Even when it comes to Evelyne and me, you keep a careful distance. That is why you save people, saved us. So you don’t have to deal with the love you feel. You can convince yourself the protecting is enough.”
Alex did not have words for long ticking moments. Then he shook his head, because Gabriel didn’t understand. For Gabriel, love could be life. A foundation. A country, a legacy did not rest on Gabriel’s shoulders. So he could be more.
Alexandre was different. He was a king. He had a mission. And yes, he protected people, but that was because of the title he’d inherited.
Besides. “Love is little more than a weapon,” Alexandre muttered.
“I think that means you’re doing it wrong.”
Alex knew Gabriel wouldn’t understand. Gabriel and Evelyne were…different. They might have titles, but they didn’t have to save a country. They didn’t have to walk that tightrope.
Alex had made sure of it.
Things would be different if I loved you less.How often had his mother said that to him? Like this giant love was a gift—even though it had taken everything from her.
She loves you more. You took her from me.His father’s words. He’d turned from the queen’s dead, bloody body looking like a monster covered in that blood. Eyes wild. Because for all the evil inside King Enzo he had mourned when Mother died.
He’d pointed at Alexandre then.You took her from me.
Alex had run then. But just because he’d escaped that beating didn’t mean more hadn’t come. No, it had only meant that for the rest of his days Father had blamed Alexandre for the love lost between them. Evelyne for Mother’s death. Alexandre for her lack of love.
Always blame. Never responsibility.
That was love.
So Alex had taken on every responsibility. Even his mother’s death.
Alex had always felt if there hadn’t been akingdomin the way—power and titles—these things might have been surmountable, but the palace made everything soft, complex,messyinsurmountable.
The people would always come first. Had to. It was his role or he was no better than his monster of a father. Or he would fail the mother who’d loved him most at the cost of everything, even her life.
“Talk to Ines,” Alexandre ordered—and it was an order, king to lord, not friend or brother. “Or have Evelyne do it. But I want Ines to go with Evelyne. If she is difficult, I will command it. But Evelyne should be able to get through to her.”
Gabriel’s expression was disapproving, but he nodded with a somewhat sardonic bow of protocol before striding out of Alex’s office.
Ines stared at her sister-in-law while her gut churned with worry. She held little Gabri in her lap, because the boy seemed to like it here, and there was some comfort in the sweet, warm baby in her arms. She would have one of these in a few months. A girl. Aprincess.
Could she hold strong and wait and hope the reality of a baby changed Alex’s mind? Or would that hurt everyone? She shook her head. More pressing problems at hand right now.
“They really think there is to be a revolution?”
Evelyne nodded grimly. “Neither Gabriel nor Alexandre are ones to overreact. They want us to leave tomorrow morning, if possible.” She got to her feet, began to pace. Not just worry. Temper flashed in her eyes. “Protecting the womenfolk,” Evelyne said disgustedly. Then she stopped pacing, looked at her son in Ines’s lap and sighed, softened. “The problem is I don’t want to be separated from Gabri, and youarepregnant. A dangerous situation is no place for us right now, even if I won’t admit it to Gabriel. Or Alexandre.”
Alexandre. Just the thought of him made worry the secondary feeling in her chest. She was just so…angry. But it wasn’t the kind of angry that had prompted her to leave the castle all those months ago. It was something different. More complicated.
Probably because of the child she carried, more than anything else. Ines had more to think about than herself, her own wants and frustrations with Alexandre. She had a child to think about.
And he didn’t even want a say in her name? He saw himself more as a king than a father? She wanted to think he’d change his tune when the baby arrived, but she knew the depths of Alexandre’s stubbornness.
He’d just avoid the both of them—his wife, his daughter. Out of sight, out of mind. He’d never actually have to deal withlove. It made her somehow both sad and angry, compassionate and full of righteous blame.
But for right now, if there was to be danger, he wouldn’t rest until she was out of the way. Maybe a different version of her would feel Evelyne’s temper, but pregnant and angry and hurt—yes, hurt mostly—she did just want to be away.
Not that she wouldn’t worry. No amount of anger and hurt could turn the love off. And revolution could only be dangerous. Particularly when the man she loved was the king—and would be the target of any revolution.
