{"id":5252,"date":"2020-12-14T18:53:32","date_gmt":"2020-12-14T23:53:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/?p=5252"},"modified":"2022-08-10T13:51:01","modified_gmt":"2022-08-10T17:51:01","slug":"heart-of-the-crown","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/heart-of-the-crown\/","title":{"rendered":"Heart of the Crown"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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By Hannah Currie<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Daughters of Peverell, Book 3<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The last place Lady Wenderley Davis ever expected to find herself after swearing off princes forever was living in a palace with two of them. Even if it is only temporary. And she did agree to it. Kind of. Against her better judgement.

But then, she\u2019s never been one to hide her heart, nor hold back help from anyone who needs it. And if ever there\u2019s a family<\/a> who need help, it\u2019s this one.

As two weeks stretch to more, Wenderley throws all she has into showing the princes and their family how to smile again, and she\u2019s loving every moment of it. Which is a problem. Because she\u2019s very quickly becoming attached, and \u2013 as the man she\u2019d rather forget keeps reminding her\u2014the one thing she can\u2019t do is stay.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Bring on the tears
That fall down my face
As I realize I\u2019ve blown it again
I try so hard to hold it all together
But all I\u2019m holding is broken
I scramble and grab
Grasp and hope
But I have nothing
I\u2019ve fallen short
Again<\/p>\n\n\n\n

God, please
Make something good of this mess
You\u2019re the only one who can
Catch my tears in your hands
Restore my soul
Help me to forgive myself
And let the pain go<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And by the grace I know you offer
Take these broken pieces
All I have to give
And use them to create
Something beautiful<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\t\t\t\t\t

Chapter 1<\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t

When Alina asked me to come with her to meet Hodenia\u2019s new princess this week, neither of us had expected we\u2019d be coming for her funeral.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPrincess Rachana was the epitome of grace, her last days and months filled with kindness, despite the end she knew was coming. She will be missed by all of Hodenia but especially by her husband, Prince Marcos, and son, Prince Ryan.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marcos laid a hand on his young son\u2019s shoulder. The boy barely moved, his focus set on the glossy wooden casket as if any moment it might open and the only relative he truly knew come back to him. Everything in me ached to go over and place a hand on Ryan\u2019s other shoulder, let him know he wasn\u2019t as alone as he felt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No, not on his shoulder. I wanted to pick the little boy up and cuddle him close. Sit right down there on the grass and pull him into my lap, smothering him with the certainty that he wasn\u2019t alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But, of course, that would hardly be appropriate in such a setting. Even if he did know me. Which he didn\u2019t. At all. Although, I had danced with his father. Once. What felt like a lifetime ago. When I was still na\u00efve enough to think everyone had the option of marrying for love. And that a moment of defiance was limited to simply a moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Come on, Wenderley. God forgave you, remember? You\u2019ve got to let it go.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I let my gaze stray to Prince Marcos again, as if the sight of the strong man weeping wasn\u2019t clawing my heart to pieces.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No, not weeping. Weeping intimated loud noises, hiccupping, a loss of control. Prince Marcos showed none of these. His broad shoulders didn\u2019t shake nor his hands tremble. His back was as straight as ever, showcasing every inch of his six-foot-plus frame as he stared somewhere beyond the shoulder of the man leading the graveside ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But those tears, the proof of pain sliding down his face. He must have truly loved his wife. Despite what the papers said. I wished he hadn\u2019t. It would have been easier on my heart if he\u2019d stood there, stoic, emotionless, and still.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cToday, as we say goodbye to Princess Rachana\u2014mother, wife, friend, and princess\u2014let us hold on to the fact that she will forever be in our hearts, having left a grand legacy of love. Her life of twenty-four years was far too short, but she made a difference. Perhaps that is the greatest legacy of all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marcos squeezed Ryan\u2019s shoulder. I forced myself to look away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shouldn\u2019t have even been here. The funeral was one thing but this private graveside burial? It should have been close friends and family only.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of course, friends were difficult to define when you were the rulers of a kingdom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sun hit the coffin at just the right angle to send a burst of glare into my eyes. Didn\u2019t the sun know it was supposed to hide behind clouds during funerals? Funerals were supposed to be dark and gloomy, preferably with enough drizzly rain to make everyone miserable and add enough wetness to everyone\u2019s cheeks to make it unclear as to who was really crying and who was there for the show.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But no, today the sun shone, as bright and clear as if it had just won a race to the sky\u2019s zenith\u2014and wanted everyone to know. No clouds. No wind. Just a clear, beautiful day. Too beautiful. Were it not for the stone monoliths and flower-covered graves spotting the brilliant green hillside, one would have thought the group out for a picnic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As if on cue, my stomach grumbled. I hurriedly placed a hand over it, hoping to muffle the sound. Would the man\u2019s speech go much longer? Not that I wanted to be irreverent or anything, but my stomach wasn\u2019t the only part of my body protesting the lengthy service. The balls of my feet had been arguing back and forth with my shins for an hour now over who had the worse end of the deal. Spindly heels weren\u2019t made for soft grass. Nor I for heels. Though Kenna and Alina, either side of me, didn\u2019t seem to have the same problem, standing tall without the slightest sway or fidget. Of course, heels came part and parcel with their royal roles whereas I only wore them when forced. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The boy lost his mother and you\u2019re complaining about heels?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t a booming voice from the heavens but the voice inside me might as well have been the way I flinched. My conscience was right though, I had no right to complain. Not considering all this little family had been through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Please God, help them.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The prayer came almost as naturally as breathing, having prayed it daily over the past thirteen months. Sometimes there was more to it. Some days I prayed till the burden lifted and I felt as wrung out as if I\u2019d waged a physical battle. Many times, it was simply those three desperate words. Over and over. God, help them.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Though I prayed for them both, it was Prince Marcos who lay heaviest in my heart. The day the story broke that Ryan was his son, it was as if God stepped into the dining room, where I sat eating breakfast, and poked me in the chest, telling me to pray for him. Right there, paper balanced in one hand and spoon in the other. I\u2019d stared at Marcos\u2019s photo on the front of the paper as the words echoed in my mind. Pray for this man.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, I had.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d prayed God would bless his and Rachana\u2019s new marriage as I pushed a chair beneath Alina\u2019s collapsing legs, the letter announcing Marcos\u2019s elopement fluttering to the floor beside her wedding gown. I\u2019d prayed for strength the day Ryan was officially named heir to the throne of Hodenia and what looked like a few hundred reporters parked themselves on the palace\u2019s front lawn. I\u2019d sat on my bed, head tucked against my knees, sobbing out barely distinguishable prayers the day the palace released the news of Rachana\u2019s terminal illness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And in amongst those days, I\u2019d prayed for courage for them. Strength. Hope. Love. Wisdom. Patience. I\u2019d prayed for fun times and special memories. Most of all, I\u2019d prayed that, even in this mess of media appearances, people\u2019s expectations, rash judgments, painful diagnoses, doctors\u2019 visits, and regrets, they\u2019d know God and find peace. Somehow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hadn\u2019t known what to pray when Alina and I arrived at the palace, three days ago, to find out Rachana had died an hour earlier. I still didn\u2019t. Not really. How did one put grief into words?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marcos took Ryan\u2019s hand as they stepped forward to lay white roses on the coffin, bowing their dark heads in a long moment of silent respect. I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it. To be brought to this. A final goodbye, after all they\u2019d already been through. My hand went to my mouth, desperate to hold back the sob tearing its way up my throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Look away. Focus on something else. Their pain isn\u2019t yours. You didn\u2019t even know Rachana. You barely even know them.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But my heart listened about as well as the sob which finally made its way out of my throat, gaining a sympathetic glance from Alina beside me. I shook my head, silently refusing the tissue she offered. There would be no tears. I would hold it together. For the gathered dignitaries, because it was expected, but mostly for me. I\u2019d already had enough sympathy to last a lifetime. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

God, I know you\u2019re enough, but\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

No. I wouldn\u2019t pray that. Not again. God was enough. He\u2019d patched my broken heart back together and got me through this past year of more doubts than I could even put words to. He\u2019d given me a second chance when no way did I deserve it. He had a plan in this too. He had to. Because if he didn\u2019t\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Don\u2019t go there.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marcos turned then. I thought he might say something to the gathered crowd. Perhaps he meant to, only instead of words came simply a nod before he and Ryan walked to one of the waiting black cars and drove away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n

By the time I made it back to the guest room the palace had allocated me, I was certain my ankles had swelled to three times their normal size and I couldn\u2019t even feel my toes, but at least I had my heart back in check. How on earth did Alina do this day after day? If torture were still an acceptable form of punishment, wearing heels for an entire day\u2014or even a few hours\u2014would be more than adequate. Especially if they were a size too small, as these ones I\u2019d borrowed from Alina were. I should have asked Kenna to bring me some of my own when she came yesterday. The one-inch version. Certainly not the three-inchers Alina favored which threatened to topple me with each step. Thankfully, I\u2019d only actually tripped twice. And only one of those had been all the way to the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Needless to say, the thick carpet felt like bliss under my bare feet. Sitting down would have felt even better, but that wasn\u2019t an option. The post-funeral reception had gone for longer than I\u2019d expected, meaning the car taking Alina and me back to Peverell was leaving in twenty minutes, rather than the two hours I\u2019d thought I\u2019d have, and my clothes were still somewhat strewn around the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Creativity was my strength. Tidiness? Not so much. Still, the maids were too busy with all the other guests to clean up after me, and I wouldn\u2019t have let them even if they had offered. I might have been the daughter of a dignitary rather than the daughter of a king, but I still had my pride. Tugging the caramel hair I\u2019d spent half an hour this morning straightening into a much more practical ponytail, I got to work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The room was almost back to its immaculate state eighteen minutes later when the door banged open and Alina flung herself through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m coming, I\u2019m coming,\u201d I told her. \u201cYou said three-thirty and it\u2019s only twenty\u2014\u201d I checked my watch again, grimacing. \u201c\u2014nine past.\u201d Was that one of my dresses on the chair in the corner? Oh, and shoes. I probably needed to put some back on before I left. Flats, of course. No way was I putting those torture devices back on. The ones I\u2019d kicked out of sight under the bed. Although, I should probably rescue those too. Not that Alina would want them back with all the hundreds of pairs she owned. \u201cJust a second. Almost ready\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cActually, I came to ask you if you\u2019d consider staying.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The half-folded dress dangled above my suitcase as I tried to make sense of Alina\u2019s words. \u201cStay? Here in Hodenia? Why? Princess Rachana\u2019s dead.\u201d I cringed at the words, not realizing how blunt they\u2019d sound until they were out of my mouth. Still, they were true. It was difficult to visit someone who was dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut Ryan\u2019s not. And Mrs. Graham, the woman who was going to be Ryan\u2019s governess as of next week, just sent word that her daughter is pregnant and is so unwell that she is practically bedridden\u2014with two kids under four already to care for. Mrs. Graham sent her profuse apologies to Queen Galielle but said that it\u2019s more important that she be there for her daughter at this time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which tugged at my heart, terribly, but still didn\u2019t explain why that meant I had to stay. Although, the guilty expression on Alina\u2019s face told me I wouldn\u2019t have to wait too long to find out. \u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI told Queen Galielle that you\u2019d consider being Ryan\u2019s temporary governess.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou did what?\u201d I dropped the dress into the suitcase before plonking myself down on the bed. Alina stayed standing, hands clutched in front of her as they\u2019d been most of the day. \u201cWhy would you do that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause I was with her when the message came. You should have seen the look on her face. She was trying so hard to keep smiling and hold it all together, but that note was one thing too many after the past few days. The fact that she even told me what it said proves how distraught she was. Come on, Wenderley. You know you\u2019d love it. I saw the way you were looking at Ryan at the funeral. You\u2019re in love with him already. Think of it as an all-expenses-paid holiday. At a palace. You love Hodenia. Weren\u2019t you saying last week how much you wished you could get away from Peverell for a bit?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I huffed. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to a palace.\u201d Palaces came with rules, dress codes, expectations\u2014and princes. Ryan was cute, sure. I\u2019d love to spend time with him. But his father? Gorgeous. Perfection. Striking. Prince.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yes, <\/em>prince, Wenderley. And don\u2019t you forget it. You fell for one of those once and look where that got you. A whole country looking at you in sympathy. The girl the prince rejected.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Never again. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt wouldn\u2019t only be Ryan. You could spend time with Lucie and Kahra too. Think how much fun you\u2019d have with them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marcos\u2019s younger sisters? \u201cBut I don\u2019t even know them.\u201d No one did. Not really. The palace released an official portrait of them each year on their respective birthdays but, beyond that, the girls were kept well clear of any media.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSince when has that stopped you? You\u2019re the nicest, kindest, warmest, most welcoming person I know. If anyone could befriend two hurting princesses, it would be you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Queen Galielle, Ryan, Lucie, and Kahra\u2026Alina was really throwing everything at this plea. Almost too much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not trying to set me up with Prince Marcos, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Alina looked horrified I\u2019d even ask.  \u201cOf course not. The poor man\u2019s just buried his wife. Why on earth would you think I\u2019d be setting you up with him? Today, of all days.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because choosing me to be Ryan\u2019s governess seemed odd. I was too young, for one. Weren\u2019t governesses supposed to be old? Or mothers at least. Retired teachers. People who\u2019d actually had<\/em> experience caring for young children. And qualifications, of which I had none. I was a nineteen-year-old girl who\u2019d spent her whole life planning to marry one man, only to watch him marry her best friend. Sure, I\u2019d thrown myself into tutoring young children not long after, but all I did was help them with their schoolwork. I did spend quite a bit of time with my nephew, Callan, but that barely counted as experience since he was only six months old. Even the group of girls I mentored, I only saw once a week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although I did really enjoy that time I spent with the kids and my girls. And meeting new people. And exploring new places. And had spent enough time with royalty over the years not to be overwhelmed by them. And wouldn\u2019t mind at all having the chance to try to put a smile on little Ryan\u2019s somber face. And really did want to get away from Peverell for a while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Perhaps it wasn\u2019t such a strange suggestion. And yet\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alina dropped into a chair with little more care than I\u2019d used packing my clothing. Her frown was more confusion than anger. \u201cI thought you\u2019d be excited. You keep saying you want to make a difference with your life. Why not here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked sideways and spotted the edge of my sketchbook, peeking out from between two blouses I\u2019d carefully tucked it between. Why not here? Because there was more to my story than she knew. Because I was still paying for the last two times I\u2019d let my heart overrule my mind. Because God might forgive and forget, but no one else did. Because of the mint green letters which kept showing up in my mailbox\u2014one a month, for the past year, ever since that night I wished I could erase. Because Lord Campbell Waitrose held far more power over me than any evil man should have.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have commitments back home,\u201d I said instead. It was the truth, if only a small part of it.  Anna, Max, and Aimee especially had tried to hide their disappointment when I\u2019d postponed this week\u2019s catch-up to come to Hodenia, but I\u2019d seen it. In the craziness of their young teenage lives, the constancy of our weekly meets was something they clung to. As did I. I\u2019d promised them an ice-cream sundae party and sleepover with the rest of the girls next week to make up for it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll organize others to tutor your kids and personally<\/em> fill in for you with the girls you mentor. I\u2019m sure Kenna would love to help too. You know what she\u2019s like when it comes to disadvantaged kids.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe were going to have a sleepover.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll invite them to the palace instead. I\u2019m sure we could find room for eight fourteen-year-old girls some<\/em>where.\u201d Alina grinned, almost laughing. I couldn\u2019t quite find a smile to join her. Hang out with the princesses? Sleepover at the palace? The girls would love it, no question.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And never want me back again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alina\u2019s teasing smile dropped. \u201cPlease, Wenderley? Thoraben, Kenna, and I have that breakfast tomorrow morning in Peverell we need to attend, or we\u2019d stay longer ourselves. Queen Galielle has so much to deal with already with Rachana\u2019s death and all the visiting royals and dignitaries. And the girls and Ryan have already been through so much. Your staying could be the answer to so many problems.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So caught up in the drama of Rachana and Marcos\u2019s story, I hadn\u2019t even thought of what Lucie and Kahra would have been through. And they did seem nice. Whether of their own accord or thanks to the request of their brother or mom, they\u2019d cared for Ryan during the reception following the graveside service, keeping him occupied in a corner of the room, as oblivious as a child could be to the sympathetic stares and wondering of too many adults with too little information. The two of them had even convinced Ryan to take his jacket off and untuck his shirt\u2014much to my satisfaction\u2014though his bow tie had stayed as perfectly placed as it had been that morning. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d have gone over and spoken with them if I hadn\u2019t, to my extreme embarrassment, forgotten which princess was Lucie and which was Kahra. It was one thing to ask the name of a stranger or someone you hadn\u2019t seen for decades, but quite another to forget the name of a royal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked back at the suitcase on my bed, moved a hairbrush from one side of the case to the other, and back again. Mindless fiddling, something to occupy my hands while my brain went to war with my heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wanted to agree. There was no point even trying to deny that. Prince Ryan\u2019s trembling. Prince Marcos\u2019s tears. Everything in me ached to make them better. To be the one who helped the two of them through this, showed them that there were still reasons to smile, that hope wasn\u2019t gone, that they could find peace even in the middle of this storm. Not only pray for them, as I\u2019d been doing for the past year, but do something practical.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But that was exactly the reason I couldn\u2019t stay. My heart was already involved. Far too deeply. It had been ever since the day I started praying for them. I\u2019d never be able to walk away. And God knew, I\u2019d have to. I couldn\u2019t stay. Waitrose would make sure of that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was looking at me with those eyes again. The ones that could make me do anything. I closed mine and blocked out her pleading. And was instead accosted by the memory of Ryan\u2019s teary face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No, just\u2026no. Walk away now. You can\u2019t stay.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat if I promise you won\u2019t have to wear a single ball gown?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I ran my toes through the thick carpet, leaving behind a trail. Another sweep of my foot erased it. Alina probably thought that promise would be the thing that swayed me. If only my aversion to ballgowns was the only thing holding me back. Once\u2014before\u2014it might have. But now?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Decisions come with consequences. Forgiveness<\/a> doesn\u2019t erase those. Someone has to pay.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSurely, she can find someone else. It\u2019s the royal family, for goodness\u2019 sake. They must have people lining up to come work for them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou would have Queen Galielle go through a whole interview process again the same day she buries her daughter-in-law? Or is it Prince Marcos you plan to send out into town to find someone to care for his son?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she put it that way, it did sound rather selfish, but surely there was someone already known to the palace who could care for the young prince. A maid? An advisor? The mother of a guard? Marcos himself? Any of them would be better than me. At least Ryan already knew them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease, Wenderley. It would be such a relief for Queen Galielle to have this sorted today, and Mrs. Graham too. She\u2019s already so worried about her daughter. I can only imagine how much letting down her queen must be adding to that stress.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Why had Alina even bothered asking me if she refused to accept my answer? Not that I was doing a good job convincing her. We both knew what I wanted to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy does this matter so much to you?\u201d I asked instead, merely delaying the inevitable. \u201cPrince Marcos isn\u2019t your fianc\u00e9 anymore. After the way he left you at the altar last year, it\u2019s not as if you owe him anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a friend. One who\u2019s just lost his wife. I would do anything to help him, and I felt\u2014\u201d She stopped. Frowned. Shook her head. Considered me as if she wasn\u2019t sure whether to finish that sentence or not. I was having none of it. If she was going to ask me to stay and take away every excuse I had for leaving, she was going to finish that sentence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou felt what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s probably wrong. I mean, you\u2019ve been a Follower longer than me so would know better than me. It was probably nothing and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She wavered another few seconds before apparently realizing I wasn\u2019t letting her out of this room without an answer. \u201cFine. I feel like God wants you here. Now. It sounds crazy, I know, but the instant Queen Galielle finished telling me what the letter said, you came to mind, along with the words, clear as if the queen had said them herself, \u2018suggest Wenderley.\u2019 Now, maybe I\u2019m wrong and it wasn\u2019t God at all, but what if it was? What if, as unqualified as you feel, you\u2019re the one God wants to do this? Help this family.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What if I was the one\u2026God, really? You\u2019d pick me?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There wasn\u2019t an instant thunderclap of answer. There wasn\u2019t even a tiny impulse pushing me one way or the other. But Alina\u2019s words tugged at the something inside me\u2014the hope that I might be the one. That I might be enough. That God might use me, even despite the stupid choices I\u2019d made in the past. That maybe, maybe<\/em>, he could use me to make a difference in this world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust temporarily?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThree weeks? Four? Maybe less. You\u2019ll be back in Peverell before you know it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Back to being \u201cthat girl.\u201d The one Prince Thoraben hadn\u2019t chosen. I was so tired of the sympathetic looks thrown my way. And they only knew the half of it. They\u2019d be sending far more than sympathy my way if they knew the rest. Anger, disappointment, the law itself\u2026 Maybe staying in Hodenia for a few weeks wouldn\u2019t be so bad. If nothing else, it would be a great distraction. I\u2019d pay for it when I left but\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll need a few more outfits. I mean, if Queen Galielle does want me to stay. I only packed with a short visit in mind. And I should definitely let my parents know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alina\u2019s smile could have lit an entire wing of the palace. \u201cYou\u2019ll do it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What I should have done was run in the opposite direction. Instead, I nodded. \u201cFor three weeks.\u201d Surely I could keep my heart in check for that long.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll speak with your parents and send more clothing as soon as I get home. Thank you, Wenderley. Queen Galielle is going to be so pleased. This was just one more thing on top of everything else that\u2019s happened.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo long as you know that I\u2019m staying for Ryan, not Prince Marcos.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alina waved a hand like the point wasn\u2019t even worth the air I\u2019d expelled to argue it. \u201cOf course. He\u2019s the crown prince of Hodenia, no doubt just as busy as Thoraben. With that kind of schedule, in a palace this size, you probably won\u2019t even see him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n