Page 56 of Awakened On Her Royal Wedding Night
“Honestly, Claudine, this can’t go on. You’re pining yourself into a decline.”
She wasn’t pining, exactly. She was doing the equivalent of walking the meditative maze, sweeping a long, winding path that she knew would be littered with petals in an hour, accepting that her actions were irrelevant and her fate inevitable.
She would have to go back to Felipe, even though he hadn’t tried to stop her leaving him. Even though he hadn’t reached out to so much as ask if she was still alive. When she had tried to talk to Giovanni about money, he had said that Felipe had already told him he would cover all costs.
Was her husbandgladto have her out of sight and out of mind?
“I spoke to Giovanni,” her mother continued. “He said that Francois has been cut off and cast out. The buyer for the pageant backed out. Francois has sold his yacht to pay legal fees, so he’s stuck in Montenegro. If he goes anywhere else, he’ll be extradited. The charges against him have grown, by the way. Five more women have come forward.”
“Good.” She supposed. Claudine didn’t know how to feel about it. Validated? She’d rather no one else had suffered at Francois’s hands, but at least her coming forward had provided an avenue that seemed safe enough for other women to tell their stories and hopefully find some sort of justice or closure.
“Giovanni said it would be safe for us to return to New York if that’s what you want. We don’t have to keep hiding here,” her mother prodded.
Claudine sighed. Shewashiding, mostly from herself. From the weakness in her that yearned for Felipe no matter how fraught her life was when she lived inside his world. She could bear the restrictions and the weight of his responsibilities and even his mother’s dislike.
What she couldn’t bear was the isolation within their marriage, the one that left her feeling alone in it.
She couldn’t avoid him forever, though. Not when she was carrying the next heir to Nazarine. Tears of joy pressed behind her eyes every time she thought of her baby, but what kind of life would their child have if their father didn’t love them? She had seen what that had done to Felipe.
Turning the ruby ring on her finger, she asked herself,What would Queen Giulia do?
She wouldn’t run away, Claudine realized. No, despite all her trials, Queen Giulia had found a way to live a very difficult life on her own terms.
With a nod, Claudine started back to the house.
Felipe had achieved what was necessary for the health of his country, but there was no satisfaction in it. His mother was barely speaking to him and his father was not likely to last the year.
Enzo had mentioned more than once that Felipe should reconcile with Claudine and Felipe couldn’t argue with him, but he couldn’t ask Claudine to come back to him, either. Given what he’d put her through, it had to be her decision.
He missed her, though. He missed her and he wanted to know that their baby was well.
He moved through the duties of his station because it helped him push through the hours of the day, but he was so hollow and empty of purpose he wondered what the point was in living at all. He felt as though he lacked something vital to his survival. He had air and water and food and sunlight, but he didn’t care about any of it.
A murmur went through the crowd around him, forcing him to recall he was in Rome at a charity gala. Why? He couldn’t recall what organization it benefited or why he’d agreed to speak or even what he was supposed to say. He would rather not be here at all.
He glanced around and realized people were staring at him and then turning their heads to look at—
He caught his breath. Life flowed back into him the way water soaked into a desiccated sponge. The music no longer blended into the din of conversation. It suddenly sounded beautiful and alluring. The stale air developed notes of seafood and puff pastry, perfumes and aftershaves. The icy crystals in the chandelier refracted to project streaks of bright yellow and deep blue.
Every step she took toward him filled him with oxygen and ferocity and gladness. With something glowing and meaningful. Something necessary to his very existence.
Claudine was a vision in a dark blue gown that fell down her figure like a coat of paint. A swirl of white hung off one shoulder, adding laconic elegance to the look. Her hair was up, exposing her long, bare neck.
There was no hesitation in her steps as she approached him. She looked straight at him, reminding him of how she’d come down the aisle toward him, so confident on their wedding day and so weak the last time he’d seen her.
When she was close enough to speak, she said only, “Felipe.”
“Claudine.” Her name was a vibration inside his breastbone. A call. Every cell in his body was trying to sync with hers. God, he had missed her. “What are you doing here?”
“Showing my support for the preservation of the Mediterranean ecosystem. You?”
Waiting for you.
That was what he wanted to say, even though it was whimsical and wistful and far more sentimental than he knew how to be.
“Your Majesty,” Vinicio greeted her with a deferential nod. He was no doubt having a subtle conniption that he hadn’t known Claudine would be here.
“Majesty?” She looked up at Felipe. “But your mother—”
