Page 54 of Forbidden Royal Vows

“I would like to return that gift.”

Mila’s damp eyes were fixed to his, and even though he could see the tears on her cheeks, he could also see that core of iron in her. Every inch the Queen.

But also his.

She didn’t go down on one knee. She held his gaze steadily. “Caius Candriano, would you do me the honor of becoming my king?”

“I accept,” he said at once.

“I wasn’t finished,” Mila told him reprovingly. “Will you be King Caius, my chosen consort? My liege man and protector as long as we may live? Will you help me do my duty, both in and out of the marital bed?”

“Your Majesty,” he said, lifting one of her hands to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles, a courtly gesture from another age that seemed to fit this—and them—to perfection. “It would be my very great pleasure.”

“And will you promise that you will always find me?” she asked softly. “Because I fear that it’s possible that I might get lost again.”

“I will always find you,” he promised, without hesitation.

“And I will always love you,” she told him in return. “Caius, I hope you know, I always have.”

And then the Queen Las Sosegadas sank down onto her knees, tipped her head back so she could smile at him in the wicked way he loved most, and proved it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

QUEEN EMILIA OF LAS SOSEGADAS was perfect. Everyone agreed. And Caius surprised everyone—especially himself—by becoming an excellent King Consort.

If he said so himself.

But he was not required to say so himself, because everyone else said so, too.

Eventually.

There was an initial period of uncertainty, but he passed that test the way he had every other test in his life. And this time, he didn’t do it by assuming that same old character. He did it as himself.

He stepped away from his life in Hollywood, because he didn’t need it. Not when he had Mila. Besides, it turned out that he was far better at setting a scene and creating a publicity narrative than anyone on any of her crisis teams. He could do that job in his sleep. He did.

The best part was that all of the narratives they crafted were true.

In essence.

They divorced in secret so that they could remarry in style. It was the most lavish affair either one of them had ever taken part in, and they loved every moment of it. The bells rang for days. Holidays were called, viewing parties were gathered. There were celebrations in the streets, and his mother was not allowed in the country.

“I will accept nothing less,” Caius told her.

“I will see to it you don’t have to,” she replied.

And as the years passed, that was exactly what they did. He piously applied himself to their most important duty and made certain that there was not only an heir, but a great passel of them.

And better yet, he gave his children gifts that he had never had. A sense of place. A sense of purpose.

Because Mila had set him free. And he, in turn, understood that he was her true home.

Together, they made certain the children would grow up balanced between the two. Aware of the duties attendant upon them as members of their family, but still free to make their own choices.

In his spare time, Caius worked on his passion project—a charity that created free cinema opportunities for children all over the world, to help them imagine something better than what they had. To help them wonder. To allow them a little joy when that might have been in short supply.

It took him much longer to win over his mother-in-law, but Caius was a very patient man.

“I always knew that you would adore me, Queen Alondra,” he said as they danced at his eldest’s wedding. “I’ve been waiting.”

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