by Erika Kelly
“I understand.” With her sister at university, the eyes of the people were on Rosalina. She needed to be seen with Marcel, moving forward with wedding plans, so when the voters went to the polls, they went knowing the monarchy would continue.
And she was fine with that. She didn’t need to go to Calamity right now. She would have plenty of time to travel, once she set up her philanthropy, got married…and had a baby.
Marriage, baby…what was this resistance deep inside of her? Why couldn’t she just go along with what was required of her?
It’s not like you’ve ever had any other expectations for your life.
“It’s fine. Besides, the designer’s scheduled to come out here next week, so she’s probably already bought her ticket. Okay, well, now that we’ve set a date, I really do need to go.”
“Won’t you at least have a look at the invitations?” her mother asked.
Oh, dear. But she appreciated her mother’s efforts, so she stepped closer to the table, skimming the choices. “Any of those are fine.” Honestly, they all looked the same.
Her father laughed, before shaking open his newspaper.
“I’m glad my choices please you,” her mother said with an unfortunate amount of sarcasm. “But you still need to work out the wording, the font…the color of the envelopes.”
“Of course. Let me talk with Fabiana, and we’ll set up a time to go over all the details.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thank you, Mama, for doing this for me.”
The moment Rosalina left the library, she opened the jar and let the fragrance fill her senses. She waited just a moment for the two scents to merge—the lotion and her mother’s perfume. And…yes. Perfect match. Given the complex mix of ingredients—the shea butter and ceramides and acids—recreating the exact scent had been difficult. But she’d gotten it. And, even better, the lotion was sumptuous, so it fit their brand.
She made her way up the stone staircase that led to the business offices. At the landing, she glanced out the rectangular window and got that familiar rush of joy.
Villeneuve Castle sat atop a ridge overlooking the capital city. Wildflowers carpeted the hills, and the snow-covered Alps created a cozy fortress for her picturesque little town. Below, the two-lane highway snaked through the valley like a black river. Heavy mid-morning traffic meant the businesses were thriving, and it made her proud to think how well her father ran this beautiful, safe country.
Hushed, urgent voices upstairs drew her attention. A woman and a man.
But the urgency wasn’t anger or frustration…it was passionate. Yearning.
An office romance? Not many employees worked in the castle—only the finance department—and most of them were married and had held their positions forever. She would be devastated to learn someone was having an affair.
As she climbed the steps, she let the soles of her ballet flats slap on the stone to alert them, but their impassioned conversation didn’t stop.
“But you don’t love her.” The hushed, fervent voice came from behind the closed door of a supply closet.
A spike of recognition hit the base of her spine. Fabiana. But her personal assistant and friend wasn’t dating anyone.
“You don’t marry someone you don’t love.” Fabiana sounded overwrought. “It won’t work. Not when you’re in love with me.”
One single second had never held so much tension. Who’s she talking to?
Who?
A man let out a rough exhalation. “It’s a different kind of love, Fabi. It might not be wild and crazy like I feel for you, but I do love her. I’ve known her all my life.”
Marcel.
About the Author
Award-winning author Erika Kelly has been spinning romantic tales all her life—she just didn’t know it. Raised on the classics, she didn’t discover romantic fiction until later in life. From that moment on, she’s been devouring the genre and has found her true voice as an author. Over three decades she’s written poems, screenplays, plays, short stories, and all kinds of women’s fiction novels. Married to the love of her life and raising four children, she lives in the northeast, drinks a lot of tea, and is always waiting for her cats to get off her keyboard.
https://www.erikakellybooks.com/
