Page 91 of Fit for a King

“He hardly even looks at me,” I whispered.

“Probably because he can’t bear it.”

I shook my head, then Violet took my hand and squeezed.

“That morning, when we spoke, he was troubled. He didn’t know what to do about you, how to keep you safe.” She gave a small shrug. “Maybe this is his way of doing that.”

“By hurting me?”

“By sacrificing his happiness to give you a chance of it…later.”

The thought was inconceivable, that I’d be able to find happiness without him. That this cold dismissal was the best option.

“He knew people were talking,” she said. “People were starting to put the two of you together, and not just as the king and his footman. Noah…you knew how this would end. The only way it could end. He’s doing you a favor.”

“It doesn’t feel like a favor. It feels like he’s ripping my heart out with his bare hands.”

“And maybe that’s for the best.” She let out a soft sigh. “Sometimes it’s easier to forget someone when you hate them.”

That was the problem. I could never hate Nicholas. I just hated the situation we found ourselves in. But that wasn’t Violet’s fault. It wasn’t anyone's but our own.

“So now what?” I said. “I just exist as a ghost in his palace? Drift through the halls and disappear into the shadows whenever he’s close? How am I supposed to do that? How do I go back to before?”

“You push any other feeling aside. You tell yourself he’s a heartless king. You do whatever you need to get through the days you still feel him stealing into your heart. But you must do it. He’s getting married. He’s not for you.”

And that was the crux of it. Nicholas would soon be coronated. Then wed.

And the man I’d fallen in love with would no longer exist.

The best I could hope for was to put my head down and go about my job. Treat our relationship like the dream it had been.

Violet was right. Now it was time to wake up.

29

NOAH

FOR NEARLY TWO weeks I’d been walking around like a ghost, going through the motions with a hole in my chest and living on the foolish hope that one day the king would look at me and I’d see a glimpse of the man I loved.

The tension in the air never left whenever we were in the same space, which was rarely now. His shoulders still stiffened, his jaw went tight, and he averted his gaze, though I could still clearly see the shadows under his eyes.

Nicholas loved me. I believed that. But that was exactly why I’d finally made the decision that I could no longer stay at Montclair Palace. I’d tried, really I had, but living on the outskirts, and knowing things would only get worse once Alejandro arrived, told me that my heart couldn’t take it. I was already doing my best to ignore the snide looks and smirks some of the staff made when I passed.

I’d brought it on myself, so I couldn’t complain.

That didn’t mean I had to stay here and take it, though. And truly, Nicholas would be relieved, not having to face dismissing me so easily.

So I packed the few things I had into my bag, just a few outfits and a photograph of my family on the cliffs, the edges worn from my carrying it around with me. My livery stayed behind, hanging pristine in the small closet, since it wasn’t mine to take. Looking at it now reminded me of the way Nicholas’s hands had run over it as he took it off me. The way he told me I wore it well, and that had felt like the biggest compliment I’d ever received.

No, I couldn’t do this. It was exactly why I needed to leave, because the memories from our time together made doing my job impossible.

I went to Baxter first, who sat at his desk with a pair of reading glasses on the tip of his nose as he looked through a file. He looked up when I knocked, running his eyes over my casual attire, and nodded at me to come in.

“Mr. Bennett.”

“Mr. Baxter.” I moved to the chair but stayed standing, my hands behind my back. “I’m requesting leave to return home, sir.”

His expression didn’t change—it never did. “For how long?”