But, just like the call from her family, she couldn't bring herself to care much about all of that, either.
All she wanted was to be in a different bed, to think of raising her son or daughter not just alongside their father, but with him. Because she loved this baby.
And she loved Antone, too.
Gritting her teeth, she opened her phone back up to the last article she'd read and clicked on the journalist's name. She couldn't change the past, but she could change the way she handled the future, and she was going to do it in a way that made Antone realize just how serious she was about wanting to be a part of his life.
The door thudded on the far side of Antone's office, and though he didn't look up, he knew Luca was standing there, waiting for permission to speak.
Antone pinching his nose between two fingers, closed his eyes to block out the rush of emails that had swamped his computer all morning. Even now he couldn't recall what any of them had said. Details and questions, legislation and requests, but try as he might, none of the words could break through the fog of his brain.
And, as if that weren't bad enough, every five minutes he would find himself drifting toward one page of the internet or other, clicking through pictures of his wedding and thinking of Tess. A few times he had even come close to searching her name in his web browser.
Another soft thud sounded and Antone said, "Well? Are you going to say something?"
"The princess Tess still has not eaten," Luca said and Antone let out a deep breath through his nose.
What was she thinking? Not eating? Was she trying to force him to send someone to force feed her?
Antone nodded, but when Luca didn't move, the prince finally looked up at his closest friend. The other man, usually so cool and impassive, had one faint line of worry knotted over his brow.
"Something else?" Antone asked.
Luca gave him a curt nod. "The prince of Tripole will be here in two weeks' time, it has been confirmed."
"And Ellaria is throwing a fit?" Antone guessed.
Luca pursed his lips. "She's prepared to take on her duties."
Antone nodded. "Okay, thank you."
Luca still didn't move.
"Really? You have something else to share with me?" Antone asked and Luca gave another singular nod.
"The coronation had been set," Luca said. "The princess Regianna has accepted the role of sole organizer, but she has requested the addresses of the future queen's family so that we might arrange for them to attend the ceremony."
"Of course," Antone said. "Of course. Thank you, Luca. Tell my sister...I'll handle it."
Luca nodded again and closed the door behind him, and when Antone was sure he was alone again, he considered his options. It was possible, he knew, to go see Tess--to tell her to eat and to ask her for her family's information, but after everything that had happened at the wedding, everything she'd said...
How could he? How could he ever look at her again without feeling like he was her warden--the anchor that was holding her back from everything she'd ever wanted?
Still, he had to do something. So, with slow, careful fingers, he typed her father's name into the search engine and opened the first few results.
The first was his government page--detailing where he could be found and how he could be contacted along with a brief summary of his service to the state of New York. This was all Antone really needed, he knew, but still he found himself clicking over to the next search result--an interview with an American fashion magazine that had featured Tess' mother.
In big, bold letters, broken away from the rest of the article, there was a solitary quote: "We are so proud of both our girls and we are privileged to have raised two young women that America can be proud of. It speaks, I think, to the family values my husband and I have always held so dear."
Antone frowned, then scanned the article, flitting over paragraphs describing Tess' upper-class upbringing and her mother's declarations that she had raised America's newest and best Cinderella story, until he found a section that made him stop in his tracks. Beside the paragraph, there was a picture of a young girl who--based on her dour expression and wild mane of unruly curls--had to be his wife. She was glowering at the camera while her father stood at a podium in front of her, her mother and sister sitting upright, grinning and looking dutiful. Beside this photo was another--one he had been avoiding looking for. A picture of Tess, clearly a few years younger than she was now, sitting across from a man with salt and pepper hair, smiling as he held her hand.
Gritting his teeth, Antone read the words encircling the images.
"There is no doubt that Tess Strickland's story is one that little girls everywhere are watching--but even with her fairytale romance and marriage to a young, eligible prince, does that negate her sordid and--at times--scandalous past?
After all, it was less than a decade ago that Tess Strickland's name was not associated with pride, but rather with subversion of those same values her family claims to hold so dear. Her affair with a married college professor--and subsequent dismissal from North Hampton College--was the subject of political uproar the nation over, and in the years prior to the scandal that rocked the political dynasty she had been born into, she was none-too-shy about her feelings toward the country's political landscape.
'Just once I'd like to go out with my friends without becoming the poster child for one thing or another,' New York Magazine quoted her as saying in 2010. 'Don't I deserve the chance to have a normal life?'"
And the article went on--showing more pictures of a miserable-looking Tess at one political function or another, wearing clothes that looked nothing like her, her messy hair always pulled back into a painful-looking bun. This had been her entire life, just as it had been his, but, where he had been forgiven and taken lightly, Tess had been mocked and tormented--her every action watched and judged both by the media and, if these pictures told even half the story, by her family, too.
He clicked out of the window, trying to focus again on the emails still flooding his inbox, but just as he'd opened the newest screen, Luca burst through the door.
"What is it this time?" Antone asked, not looking at his friend.
In response, Luca took the remote from the nearby table and the flat-screen TV on the opposite wall flickered to life. As usual, the 24-hour news program was the first channel to appear, but rather than a dour-faced reporter, Antone found himself staring at his wife, her messy brown curls pulled into the same painful-looking bun she'd worn in all those magazine pictures.
She sat upright, and she wore a feminine, pink dress with tule and silk that matched a bow she'd pinned to her hair.
She looked, he realized, just like her sister. Like his wild, stubborn Tess had been put through some sort of political funhouse mirror.
"How long has she been on?" Antone asked.
"They announced her a moment ago. The interview has not started yet," Luca answered, and he sank into a chair as the interview began.
"How are you today?" The reporter, a dark-haired woman with a soothing alto asked Tess and she grinned.
"I'm wonderful. I could not be better."
"As I understand it, this is your first interview ever, is that right?"
Tess gave her a shaky nod, though the plastic smile on her face stayed in place. "Yes, it is, and I'm so thrilled to be here. Thank you again for having me."
The interview started simply enough, with the reporter asking how Tess had come to know Antone and what she thought of the country, and to each of the questions, Tess let out a light, airy giggle before lying through her teeth. Her relationship with Antone had been a whirlwind, but she'd known, apparently, that they were meant to be from the moment she'd first seen him. Her family was lovely and supportive. Her scandal in the states was the result of childhood and she was ashamed of it now.
With every passing question, Antone's heart sank lower in his stomach, and though he knew Luca was watching him from the corner of his eye, he didn
't say a word.
"If you could say one thing to the people of Napoline, what would you say?" The reporter asked, and Tess looked straight into the camera, this time affecting a serious demeanor.
"I didn't expect all of this any more than you did, but I am honored but the chance to bolster your prosperity. You and I are blessed to have a prince who will fight for us and who deeply cares, and I look forward to the day he will become king with all my heart."
"Turn it off," Antone said, and though Luca shot him a look of confusion, he did as he was told. "Please send for the princess Ellaria. I have a matter I wish to discuss with her. Urgently."
He sucked in his cheeks, watching again as Luca left him to his thoughts.
He was heartsick, disgusted. Tess had lied--not because she thought it was the right thing, but because she'd thought it was the right thing for him. She'd submitted herself to the media, giving up everything that made her herself. Everything that made him love her.
But he never wanted her to do that again--she had sacrificed enough for his sake and the sake of their family.
From now on, he was going to be the one to make the compromises.
And for once? He knew exactly where to start.
15
Tess wasn't sure what she expected to happen after her interview.
Given the constant stream of news flooding into the castle, she thought that the second she crossed the threshold, servants and guards--maybe even a royal or two--would bombard her, though she didn't know whether they'd praise her or chastise her. On the way home, she prepared for every scenario--how she'd justify herself to an angry Ellaria, how she'd respond to a confused Antone, how she'd sympathize with a pleased Regianna.
But she hadn't had to do anything--nothing at all. Because when she returned to her quarters? The only thing that greeted her was silence. As usual, her meals were delivered and her sheets were turned down, but aside from the everyday trapping of life in the castle, her days were uneventful.
Still no Ellaria, no Regianna. No Antone.
By the second day, she wondered if maybe they simply hadn't seen it, but given the amount of press her interview had gotten, that couldn't really be believed. Every few minutes, her phone buzzed with a new article about her "graceful, poised" attitude or with another request from a reporter who wanted a piece of her.
By the third day, she was on the point of marching to Antone's office herself, desperate to at least know how he felt, but just as she finished dressing and forming her battle plan, Luca knocked on her door and let himself in.
"Your Grace." He nodded and she offered him a smile.
"You're a sight for sore eyes. Where have you been?"
Luca shook his head. "The past few days have been...they're a blur, frankly."
Tess frowned. "What do you mean? Did something happen?"
"Probably best if I show you. That's actually what I'm here for. Would you follow me?"
Tess glanced down at her trim, scarlet dress. Her contacts were in and her hair was done. She was ready to face the day. "Um, yeah, sure. Let's go."
"Excellent." Luca held out his arm and she looped her’s around it easily, falling into step with him. At first, they headed toward Antone's quarters, and her heart thrummed a little faster at the idea of seeing him, speaking with him, but just as they reached the archway into that wing, Luca turned at led her up a flight of wide, stone stairs.
"We're going to the turret?" Tess wrinkled her nose. Even in the days when she'd been left to wonder the castle alone, she hadn't dared to enter this part of the palace. Still, as they climbed, the view of the ocean became that much more breathtaking, and a few times Tess was tempted to stop and stare out the window, watching as the waves crashed against the rocks.
"What's up here?" she asked.
"That's what we're going to see. We've been doing a good bit of construction."
"Construction?"
Luca nodded. "This part of the palace is a remnant from an older time--when people used to have to stay for months at a time on visits, you see. It was outfitted for long-term guests."
Tess furrowed her brows, "Okay."
At last, they reached the landing to find a set of wide, oak double doors set in the cold, classic stone of the rest of the building. Luca knocked, but didn't bother to wait for a response before pushing the door open and leading Tess inside.
It was like stepping through a portal into another dimension, so much so that Tess glanced behind her to check the reality of her settings. Where she had once been standing in a drafty, stone passageway, she was now in a modestly furnished apartment.
The walls were a made of drywall, and though they were painted white, there were paint chips pinned to them in different spots. The windows were still the tear-drop shape of the rest of the castle, but department-store curtains hung on either side of them, softening their ancient appearance.
She blinked, pivoting as she glanced past the living room's huge, brick-encased fireplace and into the somewhat-cramped open-concept kitchen. It was simple, with only the essential appliances and a neutral, durable countertop.
"What is this place?" she asked, and then Luca took her arm again, leading her past the kitchen and down a hallway she'd only just noticed.
"We have more to see," was his only answer.
And they did. He showed her a tiny bedroom, this one already decorated with eclectic, metal elephants hanging on the walls and twinkling Christmas lights lining the windows.
She pointed to them, the wind practically knocked out of her. "Are those...are those mine?"
"More to see," Luca said, and he led her into another room, this one not yet decorated save for the plain, white crib in the corner.
Her baby's room. The nursery.
"This is going to be my house." It wasn't a question, but Luca nodded as she walked toward the crib, gripping the side gently. It was like something out of a fairytale, but it wasn't the part with the prince and princess living happily ever after.
No, this was the part where the prince locked his princess away in a tower, safe and secure and alone. Just her and the baby.
It was thoughtful, she knew, for him to have made her cell so comfortable--so homey. Perhaps he would expect her to thank him for that when she saw him at state dinners or on those rare occasions when he'd come to see their child.
After all, if he'd wanted to see her, he would have done it by now. He would have shown her all this himself, rather than sending Luca along like she was some project he had to mark off his list before he could move along with his life.
Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, but she choked on them, forcing herself not to cry.
"Your Highness, are you alright?"
With a shaky breath, she nodded. "Yes, thank you for showing me everything. I guess someone will be sending up my clothes later?"
Luca frowned. "No, new clothes are here for you in your dresser."
Tess blinked, then went back into her bedroom. When she opened the drawers, familiar objects stared back at her. Her t-shirts. Her yoga pants. Her sweatshirts.
"I don't understand," she said, and then she caught sight of her glasses, too, sitting on her nightstand.
"There's still more to see," Luca said.
She shook her head. "I...I'm tired. I think I want to lay down for a while. I'll see the rest of the place later."
"I'm afraid I have to insist," Luca said, and though his tone was light, Tess knew she had no choice but to obey. So she followed him. At last he opened the door to the final room, and she let out a little gasp.
There, sitting at one of the two desks in the tiny office, was Antone.
"Thank you, Luca. You can leave us now," he said, and Luca turned on his heel, though he offered Tess a small smile before he went. When the door clicked closed and they were alone together, Antone stood from his chair, taking both of Tess' hands in his own and staring deep into her eyes.
"Well?" he asked. "What do you think?"
She shook her head. "I don't know what to think. This is...it's amazing. Thank you."
The tears threatened her again, but she took another deep breath, determined to remain strong. "I promise I'll take care of it and...it was very thoughtful for you to have done this for me."
"I did this for us," he corrected. "After I saw you on the news the other day..." He glanced away from her, apparently lost for words. "I hated seeing you like that, Tess. I want you just as you are--wild and funny and stubborn. Whatever that was...I know it was for me, for the family, but I never want you to be someone you're not or to be forced into something. You said that you were in a cage--"
"That was wrong, I--"
Antone shook his head. "No, it wasn't. You were right. One hundred percent right. Look, I know you can't go back to New York and raise the baby the way you wanted to, but I want you to be able to have as close to a normal life as you possibly can. I want that for the baby, too. And if you don't want me to be part of your life? I can respect that. We can go back to the way it was with a visitation agreement and--"
"No." The word came out so quickly she surprised even herself. "No, I want you to stay. I want you here with me. I want...I want to be a family. I want to be your wife. In every way, I want to be your wife. I meant what I said. You will be a great king, and if there's a part of you that I have to learn to live without..."
Antone shook his head again. "There are two desks in this office. One for you and one for me. You were right, Tess, about everything. I have to share the load with you. You are going to be queen...and soon."
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
"The thing I've been keeping from you...I didn't want to overwhelm you, but it seems we have no choice. My father, with some help from the parliament, has decided it is best for him to abdicate his title. Almost like a retirement."
"But that would mean..."
Antone nodded. "The coronation is set for next month."
"You're going to be king," she whispered.
"So it would seem." He squeezed her hands. "Make no mistake, though. You do not have to attend the ceremony or--"
Seduced by the Stranger Page 12
