Page 11 of Awakened On Her Royal Wedding Night
“Do you know the way?” she asked.
“It’s a meditative labyrinth. There are no dead ends, only one path. I walk it most days when I’m here. It helps me think.” Which was something he needed to do now—contemplate exactly what to do with her.
He mentally scoffed at himself. He knew what hewantedto do with her, but he forcibly turned his mind from musing on that.
No, it was the conflict of seeing the means to finally destroy his brother and wanting to seize it, while also seeing a vulnerable woman who needed his protection, that needed untangling.
Testifying had to be her decision. He couldn’t push her too hard on that front or he was no better than Francois, but the stakes were too high to not make an effort to persuade her.
She moved slowly on the graveled path, one hand reaching out to lightly graze the top of the boxwood, as though wading into water and testing the surface temperature as she went.
“The pageant is actually a very sharp tool in Francois’s arsenal,” Felipe said, wanting her to have a broader picture of his reasons for pressing her. “He makes a disgusting amount of money exploiting things like your image in a bikini.”
Claudine frowned and crossed her arms defensively.
“He uses the selection events and the various whistle-stops as opportunities to mingle with diplomats and dignitaries. It looks harmless to the outsider, but he starts whisper campaigns against me. That’s why my reputation is as sunny as it is,” he said facetiously. “But it’s useful for me to be seen as the more dangerous twin, so I don’t mind.”
Claudine made the first turn and looked back at him, brows pulled together in wary confusion. Her hair had dried and was straight as straw as it fell around her shoulders, casting out glints of gold in single, flyaway strands.
She was genuinely, naturally beautiful. He wasn’t so shallow as to embrace classic attributes as an ideal, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that her features were symmetrical, her eyes wide and clear, her lashes long and thick, accentuating her femininity. She had elegant bone structure and a mouth that was sensually plump and pursed at rest, as though ready for a kiss while the corners curled up in a secret smile. The rest of her was willowy and graceful, her curves filling out his clothing in a way that belonged on a runway despite the fact they were too big for her slender frame.
All of that appealed to him on a very base level, but beneath that was a quiet resilience that lit a fire in him. He didn’t know why it made him want to grab her and hold her, while also revering her, but it did.
It was disturbing and he hid it all from her, keeping an impassive expression on his face because she needed to trust he wouldn’t harm her, otherwise she had no reason to help him.
“Francois labeled me the bully from an early age without thinking it through,” he continued. “The result is that most people are more afraid of me than they are of him, adding to my influence and power. Which isn’t to say I haven’t done some terrible things to him. The story that I broke his nose when we were fifteen is true. In my defense, he tried to hit me with his car.”
“That part isn’t online.” She slithered through two short zigzags and looked back at him again.
“My parents have kept his reputation as spotless as possible. He is the spare, after all. There is a small chance—although perhaps not that small given how much he hates me—that I might not survive to take the throne and he will ascend instead.”
“I don’t doubt that he tried to murder you,” she choked. “I can’t understand how your parents looked the other way, though.”
“Our father encouraged our rivalry. He thought it made both of us stronger. Our mother coddled Francois, feeding into his sense of entitlement and resentment. When he acted out, attacking me, she defended him. Even when he did this—” He pointed at the scar on his face. “Lashing me with a sword before my mask was on.Iwas supposedly at fault for being unprepared.”
“That’s horrific.”
It was. A millimeter deeper and he would have lost his eye.
They were passing each other on either side of a hedge, like people going opposite directions on a street. She stopped to study the scar. Her morbid curiosity caused a teetering sensation in his chest. He never let anyone touch it. It was remarkably sensitive, considering how long ago it had happened, but he had the sudden desire to feel her cool fingertips tracing every centimeter of it.
“I didn’t ask for the responsibilities of the crown, but what is my choice? Allow a man with his lack of morals to rule our country? I can’t. I’m not a particularly good man, but I know right from wrong. I’m in a constant struggle to hold my own against him without sinking to his level.”
“If I did come forward, your parents would interfere to protect him. Isn’t that what you’re saying?” Dread pulled down the tilted corners of her mouth.
“You’ll have my protection,” he promised.
“What good will that do?”
They had come to the halfway point in the labyrinth. They stood outside the circle of hedge that surrounded the fountain, but would have to work their way through the second half to reach it.
“You understand those other contestants are my friends?” Her eyes dimmed with entreaty. “They all have hopes and dreams of their own. They’re one step closer to those dreams because they participate in something like this. They wouldn’t thank me for destroying the pageant when they’re counting on whatever fame or attention they’re able to get from it. And the past winners? They don’t want to be put under microscopes. Helping you means harming others.”
That almost sounded as though she had a conscience. He tested it.
“What if I pay you?”
“It’s not about money!” Claudine turned in a huff and realized she was trapped. She couldn’t go back, not without brushing past him, but the way forward was another pointless retreading of snaking paths.
