Page 72 of Not-So-Perfect Princess
No hard feelings, right?
“Right.” Alejandro bowed. “I wish you much happiness. All of you.”
With that, he packed his bag, picked up Boots and left the palace feeling worse than he’d ever felt in his entire life.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE TWO KINGS, satisfied to have the marriage between their children moving forward, retired to the library to have a brandy. Jules sat in the sitting room with Enrique. He’d wanted to talk with her alone. She didn’t blame him. She figured he wanted to talk about his brother. Alejandro.
Her heart ached.
Who was she kidding?
She felt as if her heart died when Alejandro left. The raw hurt in his eyes made it hard for her to breathe. She’d hurt him with her words. Worse, she’d done it on purpose. She’d lashed out in her own hurt because he’d been unwilling to make a commitment to her.
She wanted to scream and cry, but instead she sat showing no emotion on her face. The way she’d done her entire life, except for the time she’d spent with Alejandro. Sailing, talking, building castles in the sand.
The best time of her life.
Don’t think about him. As he’d said, she had to resume her life…
“I understand how easy it must have been to get carried away with the sailing, but I must know…” Enrique rose from the damask-covered settee. He stood in front of her, towering over her while she remained seated. His mouth narrowed into a thin line. “Did you have sex with my brother?”
It wasn’t as much a question as a demand. An easy one to answer, but she hesitated.
Jules knew her life on the island would be better than life in Aliestle, but not by much. Enrique would see to that. He only cared about himself. She would always be an extension of his persona to be controlled so she wouldn’t embarrass him.
She stood and raised her chin. “I didn’t have sex with Alejandro.”
The tension on Enrique’s face disappeared.
“But I’m in love with him,” she admitted.
“I’m not surprised.” Enrique sounded more amused than angry. “Alejandro has seduced many beautiful women and left a trail of broken hearts on this island. Someone as innocent as you never stood a chance. Do not worry. Once we’re married, you’ll forget him.”
Surprise echoed through her. “You still want to marry me knowing I love another man?”
“Of course,” Enrique said. “I thought he might have wanted sex from you. I realize he wanted to win the race so he could promote his business. But now that he received so much publicity today, winning the race, and therefore you, are no longer necessary.”
His words took the wind out of her sails. “I’m a necessary part of his crew.”
Enrique shrugged. “If that’s true, why didn’t he argue to have you race with him tomorrow?”
Feeling like she’d hit a reef and was taking on water fast, she struggled to breathe. To think. “Because of my father. And you.”
“Believe that if it makes you feel better, but one day you’ll realize the truth.”
Jules knew the truth. Alejandro had told her it himself.
If La Rueca places in the top five, the resulting publicity will boost my boatyard’s reputation and raise the island’s standing in the eyes of the yachting world. To do that I need you steering the boat.
She narrowed her gaze. “Your brother wanted me so he could win the race. And you want me for my dowry.”
Enrique grinned wryly. “Your royal bloodline doesn’t hurt.”
The two brothers were similar. Both men were selfish.
The realization hit her full force, the pain soul-deep.
But she couldn’t entirely blame Alejandro for pursuing the freedom she was too scared to reach for herself.
She had let him go, but she couldn’t let herself go. Surrendering and being obedient wasn’t going to bring real change and happiness. She had to find her own path like Alejandro had done.
Effecting change meant not passively waiting and hoping, but required real, risk-taking leadership. The women’s rights rallies weren’t occuring because she’d been a dutiful princess, but because she’d been a defiant one who sailed in a race like her mother.
If she married Enrique, she would perpetuate the same repression her father had returned to in the wake of her mother’s death. Jules wouldn’t be an example for change, but of the status quo.
