Page 104 of Fallen Crown

“We didn’t get married for the right reasons,” I say, “and we can’t stay together just because neither of us wants to fail. The truth is, our marriage failed a year ago when we couldn’t figure out how to steer our way through tragedy together. You can’t come back now and say we should act as though the last year didn’t happen. We’re not the same people we were.”

“You’re punishing me for needing some time and space to sort through my feelings.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” I sigh. He’s not listening.

“You can push through the divorce,” he says. “Apparently I can’t stop you. But the prenup is void because you cheated on me. If you don’t want to stay married, I’ll seek half of everything.”

“Nothing happened with Brice until after we were separated.” Almost true. I’m not sure how he’d be able to prove otherwise.

“You can have what you want, M. But it’s going to cost you.” He strides toward the door. “I guess we’ll see how all those InterFlix viewers feel about you and Prince Brice once I’m done telling my side of the story.”

He’s gone before I have a chance to respond, and I stare at the closed door, a sense of dread bubbling in my stomach. I made sure the cameras caught my declaration that Enzo and I were legally separated, but I have no idea how the show will be edited.

Later when Brice appears at the door, I’m still out of sorts. He’s got a round tin in his hand, and he climbs into the bed with me without hesitation.

“Scones,” he says, “courtesy of the queen. I resisted eating one on the way over just to let you have first pick.” He cracks open the tin, but when he glances up at me, he grimaces. “Talk with Enzo didn’t go well?”

“He intends to try me in the court of public opinion. He’s going to tell everyone I was cheating on him with you, and I’m sure the race will only feed that narrative.”

“Anyone can look up the separation document and dates to discover the truth.”

“How many people will bother with that when Enzo will be hollering foul play from the rooftops? People don’t dig for the truth anymore. They go with the facts presented to them by whoever shouts the loudest. He’s trying to nullify the prenup.”

“No tears? No begging to save the marriage?” Brice purses his lips.

“No, not at all. He seemed… angry.”

“I’m not going to let him drag you through the mud. You care what people in Bellerive think, and he’s trying to use that against you. I’ll abuse my royal privileges and status and start calling in favors to suppress his claims,” Brice says, plucking a scone out of the tin.

I’m not surprised he can do that, but warmth spreads across my chest that he wouldn’t hesitate to go as far as possible to protect my reputation.

“This abrupt switch from ‘I want you back’ to ‘I want your money’ just makes me even more certain a little sniffing around in Boston will turn up something foul,” Brice says. “The money shouldn’t be the important thing, but I suppose that’s been his problem from the beginning. He never valued you the way you deserved.”

“I love you,” I say. Everything I once thought about him seems so out of touch. When Brice cares, he cares so deeply.

“Enough to agree to stay at the palace until we take care of your divorce? If I can’t suppress Enzo’s lies, I want to make sure you’re protected from the fallout.”

“Will you be upset if I move out afterwards? If it’s temporary?” The idea of being with him constantly is more appealing than I would have thought. But I don’t know that I should be going from one relationship straight into another one with that level of seriousness.

“I mean, I intend to make things so great for you at the palace that you’ll never want to leave.” He takes a bite of scone and chews. “But I’ll respect whatever decision you want to make once you’re divorced. You’re a little skittish, and I’m a patient man.” He grins. “You’re the only person who gets to set rules and expectations about what’s best for you, Maren. You dictate how you live your life. If you want to move into the palace with me and that’s what feels right for you, fuck anyone who doesn’t understand. They don’t matter. I love you, and you love me. We don’t have to answer to anyone if we don’t want to.”

He makes it sound simple. The royals bow to public perception and opinion all the time, but they also buck it when it suits them. Bellerive society’s opinions matter to me, and I may have to work on letting that go in favor of what makes me happy.

“I never asked, but how did you get into my room if Enzo wasn’t letting you in? My mother?”

“Your mother, in a roundabout way. I had Alex call her to offer brunch with the royals in exchange for an entry pass. Then Caitlin confirmed that Enzo shouldn’t have been the one controlling entry, anyway. That left Celia firmly in charge.”

“My mother would have let you in if you’d called and asked.”

“Couldn’t take the chance she might actually like Enzo. Even if she did, Enzo is no match for my brother’s power and influence. Celia wasn’t going to say no to that, was she?” Brice polishes off the final bite of scone. “No matter what, I was getting in here, so I wasn’t taking any chances.”

Warmth swells across my body at how nothing deterred him from being here for me when I needed him. What I’ve longed for in a partner for the last year, I’ve got with him. Why do I care what anyone else thinks when he loves me like this?

“I’ll move in with you,” I say. “The public perception thing might be a bit of a learning curve.”

Brice tilts the tin of scones toward me, and I pluck one out. “I’ll hold your hand every step of the way.”

The best part is, I know he means it.