Page 21 of Forbidden Royal Vows

I trust you, Mila, he had said simply. I trust you to take care of my kingdom when I am gone, you know this. But I trust you to take care of yourself, as well. I’m certain you possess discernment enough to track your own course and the wisdom to do so in a way that shames neither you, this family, nor the crown.

He had paused as if he’d expected her to mount another argument, but she couldn’t.

This is the greatest gift I could give you, he’d said then. A small window of anonymity before you become, as you inevitably will, public property in almost every way.

She had wanted to cry, though she hadn’t.

And then she had gone and planned not simply a trip, the way many did for gap years and the like. Mila had planned a mission. She had reveled in the challenge. She’d had Noemí collect the items they would need from shops where normal people went. Things the Crown Princess of Las Sosegadas would never possess.

When it was time, they had snuck out of the palace under cover of night, and Mila had laughed as they’d crossed the border. That had the last time someone had recognized the name on her passport. After that, even if there was a second look, she was instantly dismissed.

Because it beggared belief that a woman with the name Emilia Christiana de Las Sosegadas could possibly have anything to do with a princess or a crown far off in the mountains between Spain and France.

They had spent two months wandering where they liked, through cities Mila had never had the opportunity to explore on her own, before they decided to take that particular guided hike through a dangerous stretch of the Pacific Crest Trail.

Nothing but nature for weeks, Noemí had said. Hard to be more anonymous than that.

That was where Mila had finally met Caius, who she had certainly heard of before. And had possibly even seen at some or other event, though they had never interacted.

Someone had likely seen to it that they never crossed paths.

She could admit that she hadn’t known whether to be thrilled or disappointed that he hadn’t seemed to recognize her at all.

It was only later, when they had been telling each other truths at last, that he’d admitted that he’d known who she was at once. That he had hoped that if he didn’t indicate that he knew who she was, she wouldn’t say anything either, and none of the others in their group would be any the wiser. None would know that they were in the presence of two extremely famous people in a place no one would think to look for them.

They had spent the last few months of her six-month adventure completely inseparable. To the point where Noemí had allowed them time to themselves, and Mila had not thought twice about taking it.

It was something she had never had before. Something it had not occurred to her to treasure—though she knew, even then, that she would miss it. For days on end she got to feel what it was like to have no eyes on her at all save those she loved, from morning until night.

It was like a prayer she hadn’t known she needed answered.

And it was only here in this quiet, secluded place where no one knew she liked to come to see her real face in a pool no one else could critique, and breathe her own breaths with any expression on her face she liked, that she could let herself remember those months.

Really, truly remember them.

And that person she’d been then, when she’d been as close to free as she’d ever come.

It wasn’t the freedom she missed, Mila knew. It was the way she’d felt in her own skin. Invincible. Entirely herself.

Not subject to any whim but her own.

Her fist clenched involuntarily, as if she was still holding the ring he’d given her. As if she hadn’t carefully tucked it away again, back behind the desk drawer, vowing not to give in to the urge to take it out again.

Vowing she would leave it there for future generations to wonder over when they found it, a mystery forever unsolved.

She stayed there until her breathing slowed. She smoothed down her dress and composed her features. Only then was she ready to be the Queen again. Only then did she turn, shoulders straightened, to head back out and face the music.

“The music is your life,” she said under her breath. “You love your life.”

But before she could launch into a series of fierce affirmations to remind herself of why that was true, she stopped.

Because he was there.

He was right there and there was no telling how long he’d been there.

Caius stood in the opening to the hidden central grove, seeming to gleam like sunshine though he stood in the shade. He was dressed like the perfect male fantasy of a garden party. All creams and whites, yet slightly rumpled, as if he was far too uncontained, too languidly dangerous, to suit such elegance.

He didn’t say a word.

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