Page 27 of Desperately Yours

“Sadie,” Bishop corrected.

“Sadira,” I restated. “Perhaps our love could become what I have with Coco over time. Look at my parents—”

“Oh, you mean the woman who has been lobbying for her chance to rule in the wake of her husband’s death? Yes, please,” Bishop nodded eagerly, “let’s talk about that.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s overjoyed that he’s recovering, and you know it.” She’d been at his side the whole time, helping Sadira wherever possible. The picture of a doting and devoted wife.

Bishop left it alone. “Perhaps thismystical soup,” Bishop waved his hands through the air like he was divining our futures, “will heal your father and you’ll be off the hook for another twenty years. What then?”

I couldn’t claim the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “Then, don’t I owe it to Sadira to marry her in gratitude?”

Bishop’s shoulders slumped. “Is there not a selfish bone in your entire body? Or is it all honor and duty with you?” He stopped me before I could defend my thought. “You know what your problem is?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.”

“Of course. And you’re welcome.” He feigned a bow that meant very little. “Your problem is that you only see Michaela as your friend. You have not put her on equal ground as the others.”

“I wouldn’t say it’sallbeen about friendship.” Immediately, memories of our heated kisses flashed through my mind, turning my cheeks hot with guilt. If I thought my cousin would ignore my misstep, I was sorely mistaken. He leaned forward, crooked grin in place, finally invested in the conversation.

“You rogue.” He lobbed a pillow at me from one of the benches, but nothing but pride showed in his face. “You mentioned the first, but I gather it’s happened again? I suspected but I wasn’t sure. A proper snog, then? Once? Twice? How recent?”

I rolled my eyes. “Never you mind any of it. A gentleman never tells.”

“Ah, yes. That’s my issue. I’ve never been a gentleman.” He shook his head. “Your adventures aside, my point still stands. You’ve taken all these other women out, but never once your dear Coco. And certainly not as Lady Michaela. A few secret moments don’t count toward a real relationship.”

I frowned. He had a point. The tables had turned in Sadira’s favor after our solo date to the old castle. Same with Blair. Michaela had never been given that chance. Perhaps it was time to remedy that situation. I loved her, I wanted her in my life, but Bishop was right, I lacked the resolve to make it happen.

With six strides, I pulled open the doors to the hallway. “Reginald?” I didn’t have to wait even a full minute for him to appear. He had a convenient habit of lingering.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Please set up a meeting with Tom. I need to let him know of a few changes I’d like to make to the filming schedule.”

“As you wish.” With a curt bow, he departed and I pulled the door shut, mind alight with excitement.

Bishop narrowed his eyes. “Dare I ask, what doesthatlook mean?”

“It means, dear cousin… we need to plan the perfect date.”

Tom loved the pitch of a solo date with Michaela, but he begged me to give him time to run promos hyping the idea. Apparently, this was the sort of thing the viewers, worldwide, had been clamoring for. I still took issue with the idea of thousands of people weighing in on my love life and future, but if it would put pressure on my mother to stay out of it, then it was worth it to play to the masses.

When my father showed signs of improvement, Tom also suggested a royal interview with the king for each of the remaining contestants. At first, I hated the idea, but bless Bishop’s foresight, he reminded me that Coco’s appeal was in personal connections. If anyone could charm the king into changing a few laws, it would be her.

“Keep your options open,” Bishop reminded me.

He assumed responsibility for aiding Michaela in her preparation for the royal interview. Which left me alone to arrange the date scheduled for tomorrow evening, just before the choosing ceremony. The initial excitement and novelty of the ceremonies had transformed into tedious drudgery.

I had no doubt that I would send Esmerey home, but Tom insisted that we had to keep the pageantry of it all.

I tossed the notepad on my table, frustrated with my life.

Two days. I only had two days before I had to name the woman I would marry at the New Year’s Ball. Though Father grew stronger at first, the signs of disease had started to creep back in. I feared it would only be a matter of time before he faded once more. Doctors called Sadira’s soup a placebo. What did I know? Nothing mystical, practical, or ancient had worked yet. It was as if something stronger led the charge.

Fate would wait on no one.

I looked over the list in my notebook.

---