Royals of Danovar: The Complete Series Page 8

  13

  Ella woke up with hay in her hair, blinking away sleep. She stretched and yawned in the crisp early morning air. Danovar had such great morning air. Danovar had great everything. Air, stars, kings.

  She grinned and climbed to her feet. She’d spent the night in the hayloft of the royal stables, mainly to get away from her family. She’d done it plenty as a teen when she needed some space. It was a bit different now, though. Instead of fleeing her duties, she was fleeing the attention of being the royal girlfriend. Now that the Summer House party had ended and her stepfamily were the only non-royal guests left, they seemed to be taking perverse pleasure in preening her and demanding all the juicy details of her relationship with Phillip. She didn’t exactly mind the extra—and overdue, if she was honest—attention and affection, but sometimes a girl needed some space.

  Plus, the four a.m. ride Phillip had asked her out on had been way too early to set an alarm for.

  Footsteps sounded from downstairs. Picking hay from her hair and popping some gum in her mouth to take care of morning breath, she hurried down to greet her man.

  He was already at the tack wall, picking out a saddle and bridle. He smiled at her but didn’t say anything, so she picked some out for herself. Soon they were saddled up on their respective favorite horses—a high-strung black Arabian stallion for him and a sweet but energetic chestnut gelding for her. On a whim, she spurred her gelding to a gallop, laughing as she raced past Phillip. Never one to back down from a challenge, he was soon alongside her again, grinning as the feisty Arabian pulled ahead.

  They raced as the sun rose over the hills, eventually slowing to a stop at a small cliff overlooking the distant seashore. The sun was halfway up now and its reflection shimmered over the ocean.

  Phillip swung down off his horse, a strangely brooding look on his face as he gazed at the sea. Frowning, Ella dismounted and went to him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He shook himself, looked away, cleared his throat. “Nothing,” he said.

  “Not nothing,” she countered, knowing him too well to let him get away with that. Something was up. She just hoped it wasn’t anything to do with them. Things had been going so smoothly, better than she ever could’ve dreamed, and at that look on his face she suddenly had the niggling fear that it was all about to crash down somehow. “Phillip?” she asked, hating the quavering note in her voice.

  His eyes darted to hers. “It’s just…” he said, seeming to search for words, then he glanced at the ocean again and his face cleared. “You know, when I was eight, I was given the chance to choose my own nanny. It was the first time I was allowed to make my own decision in some way that mattered. I thought I was mature enough not to need a nanny, so I picked one who was young and exciting and more than a little irresponsible.”

  Ella snorted, relieved that whatever was on his mind apparently didn’t have anything to do with the two of them. “Of course you did.”

  But he didn’t smile. “I had a great summer that year. Until I begged her to bring one of the servant’s sons along with us for a day at the beach. I was bored, and I wanted a playmate. I didn’t realize until too late that he didn’t know how to swim.”

  Ella’s heart went heavy. “Oh, Phillip,” she said, sensing where this story was going.

  He nodded confirmation. “The nanny was sun-bathing and I was getting something from the picnic basket when he wandered too far and drowned. It was afterward that I realized it was my fault. I hadn’t taken my duties seriously, I’d made my decision about the nanny based on my own whims instead of what was truly best for everyone involved, and that boy died for it.”

  She took his hand and twined her fingers through his. “I’m so sorry. That sounds awful. But I hate that you blame yourself for it, when it sounds like it was a tragic accident.”

  He sighed. “I’ve come to terms with it long ago. But what I’m trying to say is—ever since then, I’ve taken my obligations seriously. I always do what’s best for my country, even if it means personal sacrifice. I never wanted anything like that to happen again, so every day since, I’ve nearly killed myself trying to give my people what they need from me, trying to do the right thing, to make the choices they need me to make instead of the ones I want to make.” He turned to her, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. There was something in his gaze, something about the way he met her eyes—like he was asking for forgiveness. She leaned closer, encouraging him with a small smile, her heart aching as she wished she knew what it was he needed from her.

  He shook himself a bit, like he was refocusing. “But for the first time since I can remember, what my country needs and what I want more than anything in the world are the same thing, and that makes me happier than I’ve been in a long time.” He nodded at the sunrise. “I brought you out here because I wanted to start a new day with you. I want to start a new life with you. You would be an amazing queen. You’re everything my people need, and everything I could ever want. Will you marry me, Ella?”

  Her heart full to overflowing, she blinked back tears as he pulled out a ring box and knelt in the grass at her feet.

  “I know it’s quick, but we both know there’s a timeline involved,” he said apologetically, and for a moment that strange, heavy expression from earlier crossed his face again—but then it was gone, and it was just the king smiling up at her and asking her to spend the rest of her life with him.

  She swallowed. How had she gotten here? How could she possibly be so lucky, to have this incredible man ask her to marry him? She had no idea, but she was ready to live her own life—and this, she’d finally decided, was the life she wanted.

  “Yes,” she said, and meant it with all her heart.

  Phillip stared down at the woman in his arms. Her smile sparkled brighter than that rock he’d just put on her finger, and he felt lower than dirt—because after the wedding, she would see what it was he’d been trying to explain to her a moment ago. He’d betrayed her, been forced to betray her, for the good of others. He would have to hope she’d understand.

  He set her down, and she reluctantly unwound her arms from him. “One request,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Could I have my letters back? I’d like to save them, for posterity.”

  She frowned. “Okay,” she said slowly.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep them safe,” he found himself saying, even though he’d do exactly the opposite. His deal meant he’d have to hand them all over to that scumbag reporter, first thing tomorrow so the man could plan out the reveal.

  “Worried someone might find out about all the kinky stuff?” Ella said with an uncertain smile. “Personally, I’d be more worried about all the emotional stuff. To me that felt even more intimate.”

  “Right.” Fuck. He was worse than dirt. He was pond scum, lower than low—a traitor to the woman he loved. But it couldn’t be helped. Best to shake it off and move on and deal with things as best he could for now. A change of subject would be a good start. “When would you like to have the wedding?”

  Her eyes lit up again. “I’ve always dreamt of a quiet ceremony in the forest at sunset. Just the two of us and a few close friends and family members. And the cake, of course.”

  “Oh. I’m afraid it’ll need to be public, as it’s a royal wedding—lots of pomp and circumstance, getting crowned by the heads of the church, that sort of thing. I’m sorry.”

  The light in her eyes dimmed a touch. “I see. Right. Well, what if we had part of the day to ourselves, at least? Maybe a small reception, the wedding dinner?”

  “It’s possible. But as queen, your whole life is about to get very public. It might be a good idea to try to get used to that now.” He winced. He knew all about the burden of public life, and he was sorry to have to foist it on her so quickly—but it really would be better if she tried to adjust to it sooner rather than struggling against it.

  “But what about our families? I want them to feel like they’re a special part of our day, apart from, y
ou know, the adoring masses and whatnot.” She said it flippantly, but her smile was faltering.

  “The whole of Danovar will be your family now too, in a symbolic sense,” he said gently.

  She blinked, nodded. “Right. Okay. I get that.”

  “But we can keep thinking about how to make part of the day just for close friends and family, if that’s what you want.”

  “I do, thank you.”

  “In the meantime, maybe we can finish the ride, enjoy a little private time right now?”

  She smiled again, gazing up at him like he was a god come down from Mount Olympus. Usually that would make him feel amazing, but today it made him feel worse than ever. “I would really, really like that,” she said.

  They mounted their horses and finished their ride, her mulling over wedding plans aloud while he tortured himself in silence about all the things he’d had to leave unsaid.

  He’d just have to hope she would forgive him when she found out what he’d done.

  14

  Ella dragged herself out of the limo with as much grace as she could muster, which wasn’t much. A week of carefully scheduled and documented public outings would do that to a girl. All she wanted was some free time. A break. A bit of privacy—preferably with the sexy man at her side, whom she hadn’t seen in a non-public way for far too long.

  As Phillip stepped out of the limo behind her, she spotted the garage full of motorcycles. Oh, yes. That would do nicely.

  She shot Phillip a suggestive look, nodding at the building. “Want to blow this popsicle stand, finally take that sunset ride?”

  He hesitated.

  “Come on,” she urged. “We’ve been to interviews and Parliament sessions and formal dinners with more forks than any girl should have to count. One ride alone with you is all I’m asking.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. We have dinner with a diplomat scheduled this evening and we can’t miss it. Unfortunately his translator is sick and the diplomat himself doesn’t speak the language, but if he won’t cancel, neither can we.”

  She balked. “We’re going to have dinner with a man we can’t even talk to?”

  He sighed and rubbed his forehead, a rare sign of tiredness from the inexhaustibly dutiful King of Danovar. “Is it too much to ask to simply enjoy a beautiful dinner while we fulfill our obligations?”

  He didn’t say it unkindly, but inside Ella, something curled up tight. This was what she’d been afraid of; that they’d get so overloaded with duties they would have no time for each other. And they weren’t even married yet.

  “Have you thought about what kind of dress you’d like to wear for the big day yet?” Phillip asked as they walked into the Summer House, trying to cheer her up. He’d already told her that they would spare no expense, that the tailors could custom-make her anything she wanted.

  “Not yet,” she said, reluctantly allowing him to change the subject. “Though my stepmother has really gotten into the wedding spirit. She’s got her whole room plastered with dress pictures she wants me to look at. But I do have an idea for the shoes—I want to wear those glittery silver heels, the ones that were the reason we first met. I wore them the first time I danced with you and… the first time I did other things with you.” She glanced up, hoping he would show some interest. Maybe she could still talk him into that sunset ride after all.

  But he was frowning. “All Danovian queens have gotten married in traditional leather clogs,” he said.

  She gritted her teeth. Tradition, rules, duties—she’d just about had enough of them to last a lifetime already, and now they were taking this from her too? “Do we have to follow tradition for everything? Can’t we have our own thing, even just a little?”

  “Tradition gives our people stability. But perhaps the clogs could be made over in a way you like?”

  And that was it: the final straw. She’d been treated as second-best by her stepfamily her whole life and she was tired of coming in second place with Phillip now, too. He was always so focused on what his people needed that he couldn’t even see how much she was struggling with the transition from secret lover to public queen. “Maybe,” she said vaguely, but inside she was making plans to get out of there as soon as possible.

  She wanted her old Phillip back. And she knew exactly where to find him.

  The next morning, Phillip read his newspapers alone.

  He glanced down at the empty seat next to him and frowned. Ella had been joining him for his mornings up here on the balcony while they drank their coffee and caught up with the news, and even though he’d always liked to be alone during this daily ritual before, now he missed her. God knew she deserved to sleep in after the grueling week they’d had, though.

  But ten minutes later he’d finished his coffee and she still hadn’t shown. They had brunch scheduled with his mother to go over Parliament business soon, and it would be beyond rude to keep her waiting.

  “Drake!” he called, and the ever-present head of security stepped into view with his usual slightly dour, slightly amused expression.

  “Yes, sire?”

  “Have you seen Ella?”

  “She said to tell you she’s on a ride in the forest, and she absolutely will not come back until you go and find her. Emphasis hers, not mine.” He straightened his suit jacket.

  Phillip dropped the paper he’d been holding, staring at the man. “You’ve been standing behind that curtain for twenty minutes and waited until just now to tell me this?”

  “She gave very strict instructions.”

  He gaped at Drake. “She’s the future queen! And you let her wander into an unsecured forest without me or a security detail?”

  Drake held up a hand to calm him. “We made her keep a panic button on her and we have two men following at a distance until you arrive.”

  Annoyed but intrigued despite himself, Phillip stood. She wanted a chase, did she? It sounded like fun, but it would mean missing out on several meetings. He hoped she didn’t plan to do this after she was crowned. It made both of them look terribly irresponsible.

  He gave orders for his horse to be saddled, and the job was done by the time he arrived at the stables. By then the annoyance had faded into anticipation, and he trotted out onto the trails thinking about all the things she might have planned for when he caught her. He chose to go east, toward the seashore and the spot where he’d proposed. She wasn’t at the overlook, but a saddle was.

  He frowned down at it. Was this supposed to be a message of some kind? He followed the trail a little further and found a saddle blanket, and laughed out loud with realization. When he’d given her the riding boots last week, he’d told her he wanted to teach her to ride bareback but had never gotten the chance to actually do so. Now she was taking him up on his offer. He unsaddled his own horse and found her around the bend, having walked her mare to a quiet pond to drink.

  She smiled up at him. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself, truant.”

  “And here I always thought I was the good girl.”

  He dismounted, strode toward her. “Oh, you’re always the good girl. Until you are delightfully, deliciously naughty.” He kissed her then, in a way they hadn’t kissed for far too long.

  When they were done she sighed in satisfaction and smiled up at him. “Bareback lesson first, naughtiness later.”

  He huffed. “You plan to keep me out here all day, don’t you, woman?”

  “As much of it as possible.” She winked, then turned serious. “I know the duties of ruling are important to you. Serving Danovar is important to me too. But if we keep up this impossible pace, we’re going to burn ourselves out, and then what kind of rulers would we be in twenty years? How much good can a burned-out king do his country?”

  He shifted, uncomfortable, and she nodded.

  “One thing I learned from my family is that you’ve got to take care of yourself, too. It’s easy to lose yourself in the serving if you don’t, and then you’re no good to
anyone, including the people you’re serving.”

  “You make a good point,” he conceded.

  “Of course I do. Now—bareback lesson.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips and then returned to her horse.

  She kept him busy for a solid hour as he taught her how to cling to her mare with her thigh and calf muscles, how to keep her seat bareback while jumping over a log. By the time they finished they were both hot and sweaty, and when Ella proposed a dip in the ocean, he happily agreed.

  They raced to the seashore, dirt clods and then sand flying beneath their horses’ hooves. They skidded to a stop and the well-trained animals waited patiently while the lovers stripped and hurried into the cool ocean, giggling like teenagers, “accidentally” brushing against each other as they waded further. By the time they got waist-deep, Phillip was already hard and longing for Ella.

  He shot a look at her. “Have you kept me busy for long enough yet?”

  She licked her lips. “I think I’m ready for a new kind of busy now,” she said huskily, eyeing his bare chest. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her looking at him like that.

  “Come here,” he said, determined to make her look that way for as long as she’d have him. He lifted her up and she slid herself down, locking her ankles behind his back. When he pushed into her she dropped her head to his shoulder with a sigh.

  “Mmm, I’ve missed this,” she murmured, biting him lightly.

  “You feel so good,” he whispered, holding her hips, driving deeper. He’d missed this too. He hadn’t realized how much he needed it, needed her. She added so much color and vibrancy to his life.

  They made love in the sea, and when they were both spent they climbed back onto the seashore and draped themselves over the rocks to dry. Phillip rolled over after a while and checked the angle of the sun, then jolted upright. Damn, it was past noon already. He’d been lazing around on the beach while his morning obligations passed him by. He dressed quickly, cursing at the sand that lingered in his clothing, and Ella followed suit.