Page 423 of Reign

There will not be another Felipe.

Or whatever the fuck his actual name was.

I let the shower run over the back of my neck and close my eyes.

Elena will be safe.

It should be enough.

It isn’t.

Her face flashes through my mind anyway. The gun against her ribs. His hand bruising her arm. Blood across her face while she watched me put a bullet in his head.

Then Miguel.

That is the part I can’t fix with more guards.

She told me exactly what bothered her. I heard her. Killing a man who might have been innocent is something she has every right to struggle with.

But she also told me something else.

I was looking at you because I finally did.

She saw me.

Not the version her brothers allowed her to imagine. Not the businessman I let her pretend I was whenever it made things easier.

Me.

And somehow, that wasn’t what pushed her away.

I’m still learning how to believe that.

When I came out of my office, Elena looked lighter. Not entirely herself, but less tangled than she had been before.

By dinner, she was complaining about the hole Ayla put in her wall, Vasilisa’s apocalypse supply of snack cakes, and Ayla being a fucking menace.

She laughed with me.

Every ordinary piece of herself she gave me loosened something in my chest.

I shut off the water and dry myself, then wrap the towel around my waist and open the bathroom door.

And stop.

Elena is kneeling in the middle of our bedroom.

Her nightgown falls over her thighs, her bare knees spread against the rug. Her back is straight, chin level, hands tucked neatly behind her.

Perfect form.

Exactly as I taught her.

My chest tightens.

“Princesa.”

Her eyes lift.