Page 22 of Falling for the King

‘He’s coming alone and that’s bothering you?’ Katerina remained in front of the closed door gripping her hands together.

Standing behind his desk a lifetime of holding his own counsel swung into action. Edgar attending sans a guest concerned him a lot. But he’d learnt, from infancy, that such things were his responsibility to manage alone. Why then was the temptation to talk it through with Katerina so strong? Until he pulled himself up, his fears around Edgar were the last thing he would burden her with.

‘Xavier, I’m not some fragile ornament who can’t handle the truth.’ Katerina continued as he uncharacteristically grappled with something that was second nature to him. ‘I have a right to know what’s going on with Edgar, especially if it concerns my rejecting him. And yes, I understand the complexities around that but you have to trust me enough to share this with me.’ She didn’t raise her voice yet passion coloured her words, blazed her eyes, flushed her cheeks.

Transfixed he stared until he reminded himself that he’d never divulged matters of strategic importance to Monica, an example he’d followed from his grandfather’s teachings. And there was merit in it. His mother had caused an international incident when she’d been indiscreet over matters his father should have never shared with her. Even now with Frederick, his most trusted aide, there was a limit to what Xavier revealed.

‘I do trust you. I’m not in the habit of burdening others. This is my role, my responsibility.’ As he said the words the exhausting toll of never sharing threatened to derail him. Was it because he hadn’t slept? Or his preoccupation with the kiss, with Katerina, or the temptation of talking things through with her whose insights during the tour were already proving to be invaluable. Who’d made him look at situations from angles he’d never considered. Was that why the urge to share his fears with her was so strong? Although it went against everything his grandfather had drummed into him during his teens. It’s your responsibility. Yours alone. It’s all on your shoulders. You can’t share that, not even with your wife. Especially with your wife.

‘It’s not a burden to talk about this, about anything with me. You know I’ll keep it confidential. Always. Everything. It’s exhausting keeping things to yourself.’ She spoke with the assurance of someone who knew only too well the toll. His stomach heaved, he’d hate her to feel that way, yet temptation swirled. He sorely wanted to confide in her but it wasn’t fair, wasn’t right.

‘I’ve learnt to keep my own counsel, it’s better that way.’ He rocked back on his heels. Who was he trying to convince, her or himself?

‘No, it’s not. What are you worried that he’ll do to Maynet? To me?’

She moved to the middle of the room, and a hint of her summer fresh scent wafted over to him. Resisting dragging in a lungful of it he looked down at the desk as Katerina waited for his answer.

‘I don’t know why he’s coming alone,’ he finally admitted. ‘He’s never done that before, it’s uncharacteristic and I don’t like it.’ He hated admitting this weakness to Katerina, his lack of certainty.

‘You think he has a hidden agenda?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘That he will try and force my hand?’

‘I don’t know,’ he repeated his voice a little raw. ‘Possibly.’

‘It’s beyond his ego being hurt? Because let’s face it, I’ve never had much to do with him and as unappealing as I find him, surely there are countless women who’d take him up on this offer.’ She brushed a hand down her skirt and then brought it back to her side.

Xavier agreed there’d be others who wouldn’t find a proposal from King Edgar abhorrent, although he was extraordinarily relieved Katerina wasn’t one of them.

‘I’m not going to change my mind but I do need to know what he’s threatened you with, what you think he could do, and work out a plan for tonight. And for that, you’ll need to trust me.’ Composed and determined she moved closer shining like a beacon of light in his bland room on this cold bleak morning. An inherent goodness radiated from her going far beyond her stunning looks that refused to be extinguished despite what she’d suffered from Max and her father. It was her strength of character that he was really beginning to understand. A level headedness along with kindness and compassion which made him wonder, for the first time, if maybe his grandfather hadn’t always got it right.

Something shifted deep inside him as he took a breath and slowly released it. ‘Please take a seat.’

Chapter 8

Later that night Katerina patted the powder puff across her face and thought about her meeting with Xavier that morning. All through the long pre-dawn hours after that kiss she’d rehearsed, word for word what she’d say to him, how she’d say it, where she’d say it. And in the privacy of her room it had seemed achievable. In reality, standing in front of his desk in the morning light he’d been remote and untouchable which should’ve helped. It hadn’t. Still she’d managed to hold it together drawing on every self-preservation skill she had, until he’d called her as she was leaving. Her sneaky, treacherous heart had jumped at the sound of her name on his lips. Lips, dear Lord, that she could still feel on hers and had thrown her into paradise, then hell. She’d waited, unable to turn or speak for fear of what he’d know if she did, how blatantly untrue her words had been. Facing the wall she’d hoped with equal fervour that she was already back in her room, that he’d cross the office and take up where he’d stopped the night before.

Yet he’d called her back not about any of that but about Edgar. And right then, in that very moment, she knew she’d left the old Katerina behind, the scared teenager hidden inside her. Instead, she’d insisted Xavier reveal his concerns about such a move and her involvement. Even though by doing so they had knocked down more boundaries between the two of them when the whole idea of going into his office had been to build them back up. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t stand by any longer and let anyone, not even Xavier, especially Xavier, make decisions that affected her. She patted the powder puff one last time and placed it down on the table below the mirror. Xavier had taken her into his confidence and been honest about Edgar’s motives and what it could mean. When she’d put forward her ideas about how to handle him, he’d listened. Really listened and eventually after talking through some scenarios they’d made a plan for tonight. A frisson of pleasure fluttered in her tummy at the confidence it’d given her, which now competed with the anxiety. She couldn’t mess this up.

She breathed in and out again not allowing the fear to gather momentum and appraised her reflection. Ignoring eyes that hinted at everything she wanted hidden she noted, thankfully, nothing was out of place. The ruby and diamond tiara sat securely as did the matching drop earrings and necklace. The set, a wedding present from Max, had never been to her taste yet it was a thought she’d always kept to herself. Large, ornate, not to mention heavy and uncomfortable, it had reflected Max’s personality, not hers, the same with the engagement ring he’d given her. A diamond so large social media had had a field day with memes comparing it to a soccer ball sitting on her left hand. Still, she’d worn it all on her wedding day though it was impossible not to cringe at the image of her eighteen-year-old self. So willing to please and believe that Max was a good man, that he’d loved her as she’d loved him. It wasn’t until later that she’d discovered her father had paid for the jewels, all of them. And that Max had married her with not an ounce of real affection, something she could never forgive herself for not realising until it was too late.

She reached for the ruby coloured gloss and rubbed it over her lips banishing the ancient history musings, there was no point in going over all that again. She had more than enough to focus on. And hiding her doubts and insecurities had long become second nature. Still, tonight she was wearing all the armour she could which is why she’d swapped from wearing the aquamarine tiara, necklace and earrings, much to the amazement of her dresser. A wedding present from the king, the aquamarines and diamonds sat in a delicate antique setting that had captured her heart from the moment she’d received them. Max, on the other hand, hadn’t been pleased with the gift he’d wanted something modern, flashier, bigger with more precious gems. In turn she’d always been careful not to be seen favouring them over the others, people noticed things like that, they noticed everything.

Picking up her long gloves she edged them on all the way up her arms leaving a few inches of bare skin before the cap sleeves of her black dress. Unheeded, the words Max had said to her on their wedding night came back to taunt her about her figure, her style, her. It hurt to think how young, vulnerable and eager she’d been, wanting to be everything he’d needed. And how in return he’d hit on every insecurity she’d ever had and delivered a wound that she still struggled to heal. She wasn’t going to dwell on that either.

Closing her eyes she let out a sigh before opening them and giving herself the pep talk she’d favoured over the years. You can do this. In the past she’d attended and hosted numerous events when Max’s exploits had been splashed across the tabloids and she’d held her head up, acting like there was nothing wrong. Even if she was angry, sad, humiliated. Tonight, no-one would know the feelings hovering beneath the surface, how hard she was fighting her attraction to Xavier, or the pain of his rejection. And despite the instant overwhelming relief when he’d announced that Serena wouldn’t be attending tonight, she knew it was only a reprieve from the inevitable. He would remarry and she’d need to adjust to that. Over time she’d get used to seeing him with a queen by his side, having a family. Once the tour finished and she got back to her normal duties without his constant presence, it would be okay. All would return to normal and the kiss, her feelings, would become a distant memory, a blip in an otherwise perfectly cordial working relationship.

A knock on the door interrupted her thought pattern as Kerrie, her dresser, stepped in holding a rose corsage.

‘A gift from King Edgar to be worn tonight,’ Kerrie said handing it to Katerina.

Edgar! She’d been so preoccupied with the thoughts of one king she’d momentarily forgotten the other and what she had to do tonight. As much as she didn’t want to wear the corsage, to refuse would be an insult so she fastened it onto her dress careful that it didn’t hit her earrings or necklace.

‘Does it look straight?’ she asked Kerrie.

‘Yes, and the colour matches your rubies perfectly.’

It did, she was now a mass of deep red set off against her long black dress.

Accompanied by the scent emanating from the rose, which seemed far stronger than a single bloom, she gave herself a final once over and pinned her smile in place. Leaving her room she descended the governor’s main staircase spotting Xavier and Edgar standing silently side by side in the otherwise empty foyer. At the sound of her footsteps they turned as one to face her making it impossible not to compare them and find Edgar wanting. Both wore bespoke tuxedos and a silk sash diagonally across their chests affixed with their respective country’s humanitarian medals but that’s where the similarities ended. Not only as Xavier was three decades younger, taller, fitter, leaner and broader in all the right places. Even imagining him older, with silver overtaking his thick dark hair, a back not so straight and eyes dimmed by the years, he’d still be the most compelling, arresting man in any room. The qualities he possessed, no title in the world could bestow: vision, wisdom, courage and compassion. He had an innate strength and goodness that he wore like an aura that would always set him apart. Her steps remained steady thanks to the drill-like deportment lessons she’d taken the first year of married life which came into jeopardy as she felt the burn of Xavier’s gaze down every inch of her body.