For the first time she thought she fully understood why Alexandre had worked so hard to be only a crown. To eschew anything that wasmore. By marrying into the royal family, she had made everything so much more difficult.
Trying to be a person within a title was complicated, difficult, and had no easy, perfect answers.
Or maybe that was just life—for everyone. A title was just a more concrete inanimate thing to blame the complexity on.
When she got out of the bath, Ines considered simply putting pajamas on and spending the day in bed, but the day after an attempted revolution would no doubt require the queen’s presence. So she dressed to be seen.
Maybe she was reluctant to see Alex face-to-face today, but she still supported him, and anyone who came into her orbit would know it. Once she was happy with her hair and makeup and had found a skirt with an elastic enough waistband to wear over her ever-expanding middle, she forced herself to leave her bedroom.
She came to an abrupt stop as she walked into the sitting room to find Jonet waiting for her. Jonet had her phone in one hand, a tablet in the other, a clear sign she was in assistant mode.
Nerves jittered in Ines’s stomach.
“I have received a message from the king’s assistant,” Jonet said, her smile somewhat apologetic. “He has an announcement regarding your pregnancy he’d like sent out today, if you could approve it.”
Approve…
Alexandre wanted her pregnancy announcedtoday? After everything yesterday had been, he was thinking about this?
Jonet held out the tablet. Ines took it dutifully, read the short statement.
King Alexandre would like to share the happy news with all of Alis that he and his queen will be welcoming a child to the kingdom in the coming months.
Ines found herself frowning at the words.Happy news?He had yet to act particularlyhappy. Of course this statement wasn’t about Alex. This was royal business. “Yes, that’s fine,” Ines said handing the tablet back to Jonet. “I think I’m just going to go back to—”
Jonet cleared her throat to cut her off. “The second part of the message was that the king would like to see you now.”
A message throughassistants. She didn’t have the wherewithal for that. “I’m exhausted, Jonet.” She had only slept in fits and starts, and she knew she would need strength, true strength, to deal with Alexandre. Especially if this was how he was summoning her.
“Yes, but his assistant did say it was an urgent matter. I can put him off—”
“No.” She might as well get this over with. Alex wouldn’t claim something urgent if it wasn’t. “I’ll go.” Maybe she didn’t know what to say, but if he had an urgent matter, then they would deal with that, and maybe she could get away with not knowing what to do for the time being.
She walked through the palace. It had changed in the months since King Enzo had died. Alexandre had allowed Evelyne and Ines carte blanche to redecorate whatever they saw fit, and they’d mutually decided to move away from austerity and military, while keeping the historical integrity of the castle.
So Ines walked down carpeted hallways, taking her time and enjoying the art on the walls—landscapes and royal portraits, instead of bloody war scenes.
And, okay, yes, she was stalling. She wanted to find some center of strength—like Alexandre always seemed to have. She wanted to put on her queenly mask, but she was afraid the moment she saw him she’d throw herself into his arms. Relief that he was okay.
She just didn’t want to be pathetic. Not because she cared so much about herself, but she had to start thinking about what her daughter was going to see. Alex had been incredibly harmed by what he’d seen as a young boy. She wouldn’t do the same to her child.
So that was her center of strength. “You,” she murmured, spreading her hands over her belly as she finally made her way to Alex’s office.
His assistant nodded at her approach. “You may go right in, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. Nerves battled, reminding her of a time early on when she’d been so nervous to be alone with him. Nervous because she didn’t know how to read him. Nervous because she thought he was ridiculously handsome. Nervous because she had been afraid one wrong move would ruin everything.
But he’d always made sure she knew she could notruinthings. At every step in their courtship, he’d always assured her she was exactly what he wanted, even if he hadn’t chosen her.
Oh, how that had changed. Now he’d accused her ofdestroyinghim.
She tried to fan the little flicker of irritation. Anger would stand against him better thannerves. Anger was better than pathetic, desperate love.
Or was it? Perhaps anger was the weapon, the bludgeon.
That thought left her feeling hollowed out, bereft all over again. She stepped into his office not knowing how to be, because she so badly needed things from him he wasn’t ready to give, and she wanted to punish and save him from that reality.
When had life gotten so damn messy?
