“That may be so, but we will never have another minute alone, not one. Is that what you want?”
“No, of course it isn’t.”
“Then prove it. Forget this Gunter idea. I will take Serena home and let’s hop on the jet and go somewhere. Greenland, Antarctica, the Amazon, I don’t care, somewhere you and I can be alone. Tonight. Eirinia can have Rogandal,– it’s not worth it anymore.”
Standing face to face with Eric in the study, in the faint glow of a single lamp on the desk, made Astrid dizzy with longing. As they spoke, she was using all of her powers of restraint not to reach out and touch him, to pull him to her, to kiss him, to take his jacket off and undress him in the study of the embassy. It was dangerous enough to be alone with him, but being this close, her head was swimming with thoughts of his naked body pressed against her.
She wanted to agree with him, to run away and never look back. Looking into his pale blue eyes, she was lost in their depths as she leaned up and kissed him, consumed by the desire to do more, her restraint failing her.
His kissed her, embracing her with his strong arms. She could feel herself sinking into him, her legs going weak. “Astrid, we can’t go on like this, we just can’t. Let’s leave tonight,” he whispered as he gently nibbled on her earlobe, sending tingles of excitement all thorough her body.
“We have to do our duty to your people,” she whispered, her voice fading as he kissed her. Turning away, she said, “If we’re not careful, we will be discovered.”
“I don’t care,” he said as he kissed her neck, his body pressed against her. She could feel his lips and breath on her bare skin, his hands pulling her close to him.
“Well I do – we both do. Tomorrow, Gunter joins us. It’s for the best,” she said as she tried to concentrate on each word.
“What about tonight? Are we not to have a night together, even an hour?” he asked as he stared into her eyes.
“No, we are not,” she answered, her breathing shallow and her voice trembling. “I want to be with you – I’ve never wanted anything more. My heart is breaking not having you, not being with you,” she said in a whisper.
Eric’s hands gently caressed her face, his gaze unwavering. “I will gladly give up all that I have to be with you. Astrid, we could be married.”
Eric’s voice, his eyes and the word marriage were overwhelming for Astrid. She felt her head swimming as though she’d had too much too wine, her thoughts confused her heart beating wildly. Looking at Eric, alone in the study, she believed that she could take his hand and run away with him. In her mind, she imagined the flurry of photographers, furiously snapping pictures as they rushed through the crowd, giggling as they left the sultry Serena and a hundred diplomats standing in astonishment.
“Eric I would love to run away with you, but we have our duty. I’m sorry.” She turned the door knob and opened the heavy wooden door, rushing out of the study and through the foyer of the embassy. She walked quickly through the massive double doors, the cool night air jarring her from the haze of love and passion she’d experienced with Eric.
Discreetly wiping away tears, she called for a footman to arrange for her limousine as she stood near the door. The press milled around outside, waiting for the emergence of celebrities and diplomats. Astrid was largely unnoticed by the paparazzi, a fact that she was grateful for as she slid into the limousine.
That night, as the limousine sped away through the city of lights, the dazzling capital of romance, Astrid wept alone. She was alone because of her own decision to be, but her heart was breaking because she chose this path. She could not risk the future of the people of Rogandal for her own happiness. It was a devastating decision to make, but she couldn’t bear the responsibility for what would happen if Eirinia became queen.
Watching the dazzling lights of the city floating in the night as the car sped past, she hung her head and prayed that this assignment would soon be at an end, so she could go home to England to nurse her wounds – wounds from which she was sure she would never recover.
Chapter 14
The suite was quiet when she returned, the lights set on dim. Slowly walking in, she felt lethargic, all energy and joy gone from her life. Glancing at the time on the gilded clock on the mantle, she realized that Madame Gasteau’s interview should have already aired. Opening the door to her bedroom, she peered into the darkness. The room was empty; the only sound she heard was the traffic on the street several stories below.
Turning on the laptop, she found the news site for the Parisian Press. Madame Gasteau’s interview of the prince was the lead story of the evening. Astrid clicked the play icon and listened to the interview as she slipped out of her evening gown. Reaching for her earrings, she was transfixed by the prince’s voice and his charm, noticeable even from the screen of the laptop. Her eyes filled with tears as she replayed his words in her head, his offer to marry her.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to regain her composure as she focused on her work. Madame Gasteau had fashioned an interview that would serve as wonderful publicity. It was exactly what Astrid wanted – light, romantic fluff. As she changed into a tank top and silk lounge pants, she realized that Eric’s interview had ended, but the next video offered by the Parisian Press was of Eirinia.
Dressed in a demure black dress, her hair pulled back in a bun, Eirinia was projecting an image of modesty and submission, her eyes downcast, and her voice soft. It was an impressive act, one that Astrid found perplexing as she watched the interview.
The reporter conducting the interview was sympathetic the princess, steering away from the tough questions as he spoke to his royal guest with calming, soothing words. He treated her like a china doll, sensitive to her fragility and encouraging her to tell her story, the story of the victim. Astrid shook her head, her mouth in a frown. Eirinia was behaving in direct contrast to the woman that Astrid knew her to be, but she was confident the public would buy it.
Astrid was annoyed but impressed; this performance would put the king in a tenuous position. How could he cut his daughter out of the succession after what the public thought she had been through? It would make the king look like a monster. Astrid considered the devastating information she had collected about the princess and thought of using it. It would be difficult for anyone to believe she was a victim if the world knew of her capacity for greed and betrayal. Toying with the idea of releasing the story to the news, Astrid shut off the laptop.
It was after midnight; Eric had not returned and she was exhausted. It had been a long day, a confusing day, and her emotions were raw, her heart aching from despair. Climbing into bed, she wondered where Eric could be, and realized she had left him without saying goodbye. He could be only one place, and that was with Serena. Astrid curled into a ball around her sorrow, and fell asleep alone in the city of lights.
The next morning, Astrid was awakened by the incessant buzzing of her cell phone. Opening her eyes, she reached for the phone and looked at the screen. It was the king. Ordinarily, she would have answered it, but this morning she couldn’t face a conversation with him. Putting the phone back on the bedside table, she closed her eyes and rolled over, trying to go back to sleep.
A knocking at the door made falling back asleep impossible. Sitting up, she called out, “Yes? Come in.”
The door squeaked on its hinges as it slowly opened, revealing the silhouette of a maid in the doorway. “My lady, you have a phone call. It’s His Majesty, the King of Rogandal.”
“Yes, okay. Tell him I will call him back,” she answered as she rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“He says he cannot wait; he must speak with you.”
“Fine then, I will take the call in here. I can’t keep him waiting.”
The maid closed the door and Astrid reached for the hotel phone. Picking it up, she said, “Your Majesty?”
“Astrid, you are making this a difficult choice for me. I want to commend you on your hard work,” said the king.
“Thank you
, Your Majesty.” She closed her eyes, sliding back under the covers.
“This romance between Eric and the princess of Jordan, very effective. Her family has holdings in the oil business, a venture that I find interesting. Although I do have oil assets, I have often wanted to expand my investments. You could not have selected more desirable choice of bride for my son. Beautiful and well connected.”
“Bride?” asked Astrid, unable to process the meaning of the king’s words.
“Yes, bride. You deserve a bonus. If I told you how long I have dreamed of expanding our off-shore oil ventures, you would never believe it. An alliance with her family and their business would mean jobs for the citizens of Rogandal and tidy profit for me. It would be a boon to the economy.”
“But Your Majesty, Rogandal is already a wealthy nation, is it not?”
“It is true, our little island nation is wealthy, but we could be even wealthier. With our resources and the added oil drilling, we could rival Saudi Arabia.”
“What of Eric, don’t you want him to be happy? Doesn’t he deserve to be?” asked Astrid. She knew she was not permitted to speak about Claudine, and she hoped that the king would not notice her insinuation.
“I wouldn’t worry about him; you’ve done well. You’ve selected the most beautiful princess in the world, and one of the wealthiest. I am impressed.”
“Does this mean that you’ll name as your successor if he marries the princess? Is there any way you would consider naming him, otherwise?”
“Lady Willoughby, I admit that the recent publicity regarding my son has greatly improved his image. His marriage to the princess would assure his place in the succession. If he does not agree to marry her, there will be no way I can ignore my daughter’s bid any longer. She has garnered public sympathy and it would be terrible to leave her out in the cold for anything less than a financially advantageous royal marriage.”
Astrid felt a wave of nausea wash over her, and her stomach tightened into a knot. Her breathing became shallow, and anxiety washed over her. All the work she had done, every social occasion she had arranged, the press interviews – none of it counted. None of it mattered to the king, not like an advantageous arranged marriage.
“What if Eric doesn’t want to marry Serena?” she asked. “What then?”
“Eric not want to marry her? What man would turn down the opportunity to marry a woman like that? Lady Willoughby, you underestimate my son’s capacity for reason. He will agree and when they are engaged, he will be named the heir to the throne. Make arrangements to return to Rogandal at once. I want to speak with him regarding his future in person.”
“Yes, Your Majesty, we will return to court as soon as we can.”
“Splendid, you have performed your duties admirably and I wish to thank you personally. My gratitude for your services will be generous, I assure you. Until then, keep up the good work.” He hung up, leaving Astrid in shock.
Astrid stared at the phone in her hand. It was as she feared; Eric would have to marry Serena. Somehow, when she was the one planning it, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. With the king’s ultimatum, it was a future far too depressing to consider.
Dragging herself to the shower, she turned the faucet to hot, and slipping out of her clothes, she got in. The water rained down on her as she cried.
* * *
Astrid dressed quickly and ordered coffee; she’d need the caffeine to make it through the morning. Stepping out of her bedroom, she asked the maid if the prince had returned to the suite last night. The maid replied that he had only just returned.
“Please wake him,” said Astrid.
“Yes, My Lady,” the maid said, and went immediately to do Astrid’s bidding.
The maid returned, red in the face and looking disconcerted. “My Lady, he will join you as soon as he is dressed.” The woman looked down at the floor, unable to meet Astrid’s gaze.
If Astrid’s world was not coming apart at the seams, she would have found the maid’s embarrassment to be amusing, but her heart was breaking – a result of her own orchestrations.
“Thank you,” answered Astrid. A footman brought a tray of coffee and pastries, serving Astrid as she sat in the drawing room, waiting for Eric to make an appearance.
The cup of strong coffee helped to wake her, and its familiar flavor soothed her frazzled nerves. Drinking the dark liquid, she realized that she was at a crossroads in her life. She could do nothing to stop the king and Eric would be forced to make his own decision: marry Serena, or leave his people to the mercy of his greedy sister.
She thought about the story she had not shared with Eric. The intel was so devastating that if Astrid released the news story about Eirinia, then the king would have no other choice but to name Eric as the successor. The monarchy would suffer embarrassment and a severely damaged reputation. If marrying royalty was a requirement of the succession, Eric could still end up married to the princess, even after Astrid released the story ruining Eirinia.
Astrid could not see a path for Eric and her to be together that would be advantageous to all, including the people of Rogandal. She didn’t know whether or not she could believe the king. Could an alliance with Rogandal be financially advantageous to the citizens of the island nation and the economy?
Well, that would depend on who was ruling the country and deciding on such matters. She was certain that Eirinia would not voluntarily share wealth with the people, but she knew that Eric would.
Staring out the window, Astrid no longer wanted to be inside; the walls and the ceiling were too confining. She needed fresh air, to feel the sun on her skin. She opened the glass doors to the balcony and walked outside. The sun was shining but the air was cool. Breathing in, she looked down at the street below. People rushed along the sidewalks, cars passed by, and horns blared below. She could smell the aroma of bread baking somewhere nearby. The scene was surreal; she didn’t feel like she was in her own life anymore. In her weary grief, she felt like a witness and not a participant in her own life. She was a person who no longer had no control over the events she was watching unfold all around her.
“I haven’t had much sleep, so let’s make this brief.” Eric walked onto the balcony, closing the doors behind him. He stood beside her as she stared down on the street below.
He sounded disgusted, his manner not at all the same as the man who, the night before, had offered to marry her. When she turned to look at him, he looked away from her, and she read the tone in his voice and his actions as angry.
“I didn’t reject you last night,” she said, thinking that was the reason he was treating her coldly this morning.
“Astrid, I’m not going to keep chasing you. You know how I feel, that I want to be with you and no one else. You’re the only person keeping us apart. Just you, no one else. Why are you making this impossible? Do you not feel anything for me? Am I just a job for you?”
Astrid looked at Eric, her eyes searching his face, looking for any sign that he wasn’t angry with her. “Is that what you think? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you? I care about you more than you can ever realize. I love you more than I can show you, but all of that is irrelevant. We’ve been summoned back to Rogandal.”
“Summoned?” the prince asked. “Is this charade over? Do we have to keep acting like I’m perfect, for the press?”
“We only have to act a little longer. We’ll be leaving as soon as you are ready.”
“And Gunter? What about him? Is he still part of the plan?”
“You decide if you want him to be your head of security. Once we are back in Rogandal, I will no longer be making decisions for you.”
“So that’s it, then? It will be over in a matter of hours.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, and determinedly met his eye. “Yes, Your Highness, you are right. It will all be over soon. You don’t ever have to worry about chasing me ever again. There will be no need.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It doesn’t matter, not anymore. I will arrange for the jet to be ready in an hour.”
“Astrid, wait.” He reached out for her.
“Not this time, Eric. I don’t know where you were last night but it won’t matter to me anymore when we return to Rogandal. If you will excuse me, I have to oversee the staff and have our clothes packed. We don’t have any time to lose.”
Astrid left the balcony and returned to the drawing room. Picking up her cup of coffee, she beckoned the maid to follow her into the bedroom. There was lot of packing to be done before they left for Rogandal. In only a few hours, she would be parting with the prince forever, a pain she felt in the ache of her heart, but there was nothing to be done except resign herself to what was coming.
If Eric had not seemed so angry at her that morning, if he had not spent the evening in the company of the beautiful Princess Serena, perhaps she could have justified using every means at her disposal to ensure the throne belonged to him. But his anger and his dismissal of her feelings, and his failure to understand her sense of duty, gave her the answer she needed. There was no need to fight for Eric any longer. From the moment the plane touched down in Rogandal, he would be free to fight his own battles…and he would do so without her.
* * *
Returning to the palace in triumph should have been a pleasure. It was a long-awaited day that Astrid had looked forward to nearly every day of this assignment. Until Grenada. It was the time she’d spent with the prince in Grenada that had changed everything between them. Looking back on those days in the Caribbean, she wished she had never kissed him, never extended an olive branch of peace to him. She regretted ever letting him into her heart.
Looking at him now, she was certain he had no idea what was about to happen. He could never suspect the ultimatum his father was going to demand in exchange for the throne. There were so many times she was tempted to tell him on the flight back to his country, yet she could not bring herself to say the words. She didn’t want to admit that she had been the cause of their permanent separation.
Taming the Rebel Prince: The Royals of Rogandal Page 17
