Page 44 of His Hidden Royal Heirs

He wasn’t sure how any of this would be received considering she no doubt viewed him as the enemy, but he took her hand anyway. It was cold, shaking. He tried to warm it in his. And when she didn’t immediately pull away, or scramble away, or scream, he patted her hand.

He cast back to his memories. His father had always spoken to his mother. Told her stories. Movie stars he’d met. A ridiculous stunt he’d done. Cristhian hadn’t realized it at the time, but now he realized it was to take his mother’s mind off of whatever was upsetting her.

So Cristhian figured he should do the same, even if he did not know what upset Beaugonia, or anything about her, he knew one thing. She loved her sister.

So he started there.

“I met your sister at a bar.” He could see it so clearly, even all these months later. “She walked in, her hair all cut off, dyed a ridiculous attempt at red. She was even wearing colored contacts. The blue eyes didn’t look right, I knew that even then. And still, even with all that fake, she swept through me like astorm.” He supposed he did not need to be giving the womanquiteso much truth.

But he thought it was helping. Maybe he was delusional. “She asked the bartender for a menu. The bartender was clearly annoyed, so I offered a suggestion. I bought her the drink. We...talked. Of work responsibilities and freedom.”

He had turned that conversation over and over in his head for those months between meeting her and seeing her again. And now he understood why she had been celebrating freedom, and dreading responsibility.

Now he understood in a way he hadn’t let himself up until now that this was not the action of a selfish woman. No matter how much easier it would be if he believed that of her.

“Then she invited me to go dancing with her.”

“I c-can’t p-picture you d-dancing.”

“Ah, but I am a fantastic dancer,” Cristhian returned, pretending to be offended. “Your sister certainly thought so.”

Beaugonia didn’t laugh, but her mouth curved a little and some of the shaking seemed to have subsided. Her breathing was coming a little easier, and no more tears tripped over onto her cheeks.

“K-keep going,” she said, then she met his gaze. “I w-want to hear it all from your p-point of view.”

So he sat there on the floor, and told Zia’s twin the entire story—from then to now.

With Beau nowhere to be found, Zia began to worry. Because her sister was no doubt up to something. Especially considering her parents would not come out of their suite to talk to her. And now she couldn’t find Cristhian.

Something was definitely happening. Not even the staff could help her track down Cristhian, which felt so ominous nausea started roiling in her stomach. She had made almost a full circle upstairs when she finally heard a low male voice.

When she came to the open door where the voice was coming from, she looked in and then froze in utter shock.

CristhianandBeau. They sat next to each other. Cristhian held Beau’s hand gingerly. He was speaking in calm, low tones.

Beau had clearly had a panic attack, but she was on the other side of it now. Tears had tracked her cheeks, but she was breathing normally. Maybe she was a little shaky, but not the full-blown shakes she got in the midst of it. Her eyes weren’t wild or panicked.

And Cristhian sat next to her. Right at her level,holding her hand. Zia’s heart clutched. Because it looked like he was...comforting her. She could hear him now that she stood in the entrance to the room.

“I told myself I would not track her down after she left. It had only been meant to be that one night,” he was saying. Like he was telling a story.

But Zia quickly realized it wastheirstory.

“Six months, and I could not stop thinking about her. I told myself all sorts of reasons for why that was.”

The same as she had done. So he hadn’t forgotten about her the moment she’d left as she’d believed all this time. Convinced she was just one woman in the midst of many. He’d thought of her. Couldn’t stop.

It shouldn’t soften her, or she didn’t think it should. But he was sitting there on the ground, clearly comforting Beau with this story ofthemin the aftermath of a panic attack. He had not left her to fend for herself, had not called staff in to deal with it. He had clearly not told her to handle herself, as Father so often did.

He’d sat on the floor and held her hand. For what? There was no clear ulterior motive. Just the fact that he might be...good, underneath all that controlling.

“And what do you think the reason was?” Beau asked, but as she looked up at Cristhian, she must have caught a glimpse of Zia, because her chin jerked and her eyes widened.

So Cristhian looked over, too. He did not have the same surprise in his reaction, but he did not answer Beau’s question. He got to his feet, then using the hand that had been holding Beau’s, helped her up off the floor gently.

He did not seem disgusted or horrified. Zia stood there and saw with her own eyes as he gave Beau’s hand a little squeeze before releasing it.

For a moment, Beau stood there looking at Cristhian with a considering expression before she carefully turned to Zia. Beau walked over to her and wrapped her arms around Zia.

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