Page 3 of Falling for the King

Xavier had always been well informed and supportive of her work, especially on this. But this was a surprise. A massive one. He’d planned this tour prior to Max’s death and out of respect for his brother had delayed it to the end of the traditional mourning period. She never expected to be going as well. There was no precedence for such a thing, and how much that had to do with Edgar, she was unsure.

‘That’s … that would be … incredibly helpful, the take up in the regions, as you know, is far lower than the urban areas.’ Xavier had worked to improve the educational opportunities for all citizens when he became king. Five years ago, after seeing the figures of female university involvement, Katerina had made it one of her key areas to improve.

‘Yes.’

She waited. He didn’t elaborate, just held her gaze with a steadiness that made a mockery of her so-called poise. She didn’t feel steady or calm or in control.

‘When did you decide this?’ She would never normally question Xavier like this, no-one did, he was the king after all and a well-respected one. But she needed to make sense of what he was saying and why. She’d made it her personal mantra never to be unprepared for anything, yet throughout this whole discussion she felt like she was one gigantic step behind.

‘Recently.’

She felt a frown settle across her face. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Yes. We’ll meet tomorrow to discuss arrangements. We’re leaving at the end of the week, the day after the mentoring program gala.’ His tone clipped and business like, brooked no argument.

She tore her gaze from him, not wanting him to see any evidence of the fear that’d reared up and settled into a hard knot in her belly. She didn’t want to let him or the country down. For a tour, never mind one with the king, she would usually spend months researching and preparing, not a mere five days. She gnawed on her bottom lip before she realised it, then immediately stopped herself. She wasn’t a teenage bride any longer. She could do this. Had been doing this for years. Whether she accompanied the king or not, that wouldn’t change.

‘Katerina, it will be okay.’ He took a step towards her, his voice low and intense.

She looked back at him as something shifted inside her, and she knew with absolute certainly that nothing would ever be the same again.

The clock chimed. She flinched. Sanity returned.

She checked her watch and steeled herself. ‘Yes, of course. Excuse me Your Majesty, I’ve got an online lecture this afternoon. I’d better go and get ready. I’ll see you … tomorrow. Goodbye.’ Any attempt at steadiness deserting her as she headed for the double doors as fast as her trademark heels would allow. She hadn’t used his title in private for years, but she needed to remind herself who he was. Her king, her brother-in-law. The man she would spend four weeks touring with.

‘Katerina?’

She stopped and turned slowly to where he still stood in the middle of the room looking every inch the powerful ruler he was, as eyes the colour of treacle captured hers.

‘I would have done everything possible to stop you from marrying that odious man.’

***

Xavier watched Katerina as his words hit. Shock. Relief. Followed by something fragile and raw that he couldn’t fully identify flashed in her famous light blue eyes. Fairy princess eyes the press had named them. Eyes that stared at him while he glimpsed the uncertain eighteen-year-old who’d first arrived at the palace days before her wedding. Eyes that suddenly crashed closed, shutting him out.

Unable to stop himself he ran his gaze over her. Hair so fair it shone almost white in the sunlight was piled on top of her head, fixed in a high knot that looked like it could withstand a legendary Maynetian windstorm. He hadn’t seen it free and flowing in years, not since the early days when she wore it straight and unadorned down her back. Her make-up, perfect as always, couldn’t conceal how pale she’d become during their discussion today. Guilt stabbed at him again. He wasn’t used to second-guessing himself, but the conversation had spectacularly veered off track. Absolutely she had a right to know about the proposal, like she had a right to refuse. He’d decided prior to the meeting that if she rejected Edgar’s offer, she would accompany him on his upcoming tour. Unconventional but necessary, it was the best solution to any counter attacks made by Edgar and sent a clear message that she was under his protection. But nothing had gone as he’d planned, least of all his reactions. And that was inexcusable. He was not a man taken by surprise, least of all by his own behaviour.

Not allowing himself to linger his gaze continued past a black silky looking dress cinched in at her waist with a thin belt. Heels, blue today, were dangerously high. He’d long stopped marvelling at her ability to walk in them, never mind spend all day, or when the occasion called, all night. And despite the towering hair and heels, she still didn’t come close to his shoulders.

He rocked back on his heels and reminded himself, not for the first time today, that she was his late brother’s wife. A woman who bore his family’s name and who had his respect and protection. But something simmered in the air between them, something unexpected, something he couldn’t name. It had been released by this talk of marriage, like the proverbial genie in the bottle. He prevented a wince at the fanciful thought. He didn’t believe in fairy tales, he dealt in facts. And the fact of the matter was she was his sister-in-law and he was her only living immediate family member.

Her eyes flew open, cool and clear and caught his, her trademark poise back in place. A lifetime’s experience kept him still as the silence in the room continued, long past the comfortable stage.

He cursed himself again for revealing more than he needed to. More than he intended to and mulled over her use of his title. Something she hadn’t done in years, at least not when it was only the two of them.

‘Because?’ Her voice skated across the room and hit him square in the chest. Surely it had never sounded so husky, so low.

Because the thought makes my stomach roll.

‘You deserve better than that. Better than him.’

She remained exactly where she was, looking at him across the room, not even an eyelash revealing her feelings, so changed from the eighteen-year-old who’d worn her heart clear for everyone to see.

‘Thank you. But it doesn’t matter, I’ll not be remarrying,’ she said emotionlessly, like it was the weather they were discussing, not her future. She raised a hand to her throat then dropped it as soon as it reached its destination.

‘You can’t know that, you’re still so young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.’ He prevented another wince. He sounded like he was a hundred years old. But she was young and the thought of her locking herself away was as unsettling as the thought of her remarrying. He didn’t want to examine that scenario too closely, until he reminded himself it was the idea of Edgar as her bridegroom that had set his teeth on edge.

‘I’m twenty-five, hardly a child and you’d already been king for five years by the same age.’