After, he rolls us to our sides so that he’s not crushing me, but he does keep me wrapped up in his arms.
“It is going to be okay,” he says into my hair. “I promise.”
“I know,” I whisper back.
And with my tears shed and dried and safe in my husband’s arms, I fall asleep.
Everything is all right…for now.
Chapter 6
Portrait of a Queen
Footsteps sound behind me and I push myself to move faster. My arms pumping and my legs burn as I try to get away, get to safety. They’re getting closer.
I have to get out of here; I have to keep going.
It’s so dark that I can’t see where I’m going. The heel snaps off of my stupid expensive shoe and my ankle rolls. I stumble into the bushes. My stockings rip and a searing pain flashes through my knees. I bite my lip to hold in a sob and push myself back up.
I kick off my shoes and keep going, blood dripping from my knees. I step off the garden path and hope that whomever, whatever is chasing me doesn’t follow.
It feels like I’ve gotten away. I don’t hear the footsteps anymore and my heart begins to calm enough so it’s not ringing in my ears. I slow my pace and look foran exit.
Arms band tightly around me and a hand covers my mouth before I can scream.
I was never safe.
There’s a soft knock on the main door of the suite that jerks me from a fitful sleep. I take a quick look at the clock and see that it’s just after seven in the morning. I stretch my body out across the bed and feel the cool sheets on the other side. I don’t know how long Rhys has been gone, but it’s long enough.
The knock sounds again followed by, “Are you awake, my lady?” Maeve calls out.
I throw back the covers and stand up only to panic because I forgot that Rhys left me naked last night. I grab a robe from the closet and wrap it around myself while rushing to the door. I unlock it and pull it open.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell her. “I think I overslept.”
“Nay, nay,” she hushes me. “You’re just fine, your highness. Now let’s get some breakfast in you and we’ll get you squared away for your royal visit this morning.”
She pushes the dining cart over to the small table and sets it with an omelet, fruit, and toast along with a coffee service. I sit down as my stomach rumbles at the sight of the eggs and bacon.
“You remember you’re headed to the National Portrait gallery today?” she asks me.
“To unveil the painting of me,” I reply betweenbites.
“Yes, and I have a surprise for you.”
“I don’t know if I can handle any more surprises, Maeve. My life is pretty exciting these days,” I tell her.
She just cackles in her delicate way at my side-eyed glare, making me laugh too.
“Eat and then shower,” she says, mothering me in a way that only she can. “I’ll pull some outfit options for you.”
“You’re a godsend, Maeve.”
“I know,” she winks at me.
I finish my breakfast, downing the last of my coffee. I’m sure if my real uncle saw me like this, he’d lose his mind. The men who raised me, though, they’d smile at me the way they used to, the way that told me I was important to them, that I was special and funny and magic and sunshine, like every child should feel.
As I step into the shower, I wonder if I’ll be able to protect any child I might have. I won’t raise babies to think that they’re not wonderful. I won’t let them be royal brats either, but I won’t let them feel the insecurities that come with being raised in this castle, in this life. I wonder if I’ll be able to let them be children before Rhys throws them into the machine that will churn out future kings and queens.