Page 41 of Princess Bride Swap

“Then we will develop a schedule.”

“A schedule?”

His mouth firmed, but he didn’t get angry. He stayed perfectly calm. If a little sarcastic. “Do I need to explain what a schedule is?”

“No.” She looked away, feeling small. Angry she’d let something twist inside of her so that she allowed someone to make her feel small. She had promised herself she’d left that behind when she’d escaped her father’s grip.

And now she wasn’t justallowingit to happen, she was...wanting to find some way to take that stiffness away that would make himhappy. That would bring back theeasethey’d had around each other.

Not just the sex, but the comradery. The feeling there wasn’t some invisible box around the both of them.

“There are times when a woman is more...susceptible to getting pregnant, are there not?” Lyon said, when she couldn’t come up with any words. “We will develop a schedule based on the best possible time.”

She found herself nodding along even though the idea sounded...terrible. Aschedule. For sex? When theyenjoyedsex with one another?

She had promised him she understood. She had promised to be the princess he needed. If that meant waiting and schedules... Did it really matter or change anything? It was better than being locked away.

So days passed, and Beau settled into a schedule as crown princess of Divio. She settled into a life. She dined with Lyon, and sometimes the countess. She got to know all the different staff members, started developing projects with her own assistant. She talked to Zia almost every day, even video calling into Zia and Cristhian’s wedding.

She had watched over her phone as Cristhian and Zia had made vows to one another, far away in Cristhian’s place close to Germany. She had seen the love shine between them even on a small phone screen and had been overjoyed her sister had found it.

Overjoyed they had both found their freedoms. Because thiswasbetter than the life she’d had in Lille. And if every day she spent more time convincing herself of that...well, itwasbetter.

Even if every night she slid into bed with her husband, and he kept his back to her. Even if he never so much as held her hand in public. He was always courteous and kind. He made sure the books she wanted were ordered, the meals she liked served. They talked about books. He read things she suggested and vice versa.

They had developed a friendship. It was better than her wildest dreams of what her life might look like when she’d been locked in her room, the threat of aninstitutionhanging over her head.

It wasbetter.

For two weeks she convinced herself of that, and then one afternoon when it became clear that she wasn’t pregnant, she finally realized the truth.

She was miserable.

“Your Highness?”

Lyon looked from the window to Mr. Filini, who had been talking to him about the upcoming parliamentary dinner. Lyon wasn’t sure when his thoughts had strayed. What information he’d missed because he’d beenbroodingabout Beau.

It was becoming frustratingly common. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t stay in his present moment. Every day he became...more and more uncomfortable.

It wasn’t even just the wanting her. Which he still did. With a fire that never truly seemed to go away. But he controlled it. Resisted it. He could almost convince himself he’d conquered it.

But he was worried about Beau, and he didn’t even understand why. Everything was just as it should be. Just as they’d agreed.

They’d been back at the castle for nearly two weeks now. It should feel like normal.

But no matter how he tried to ignore it, he missed the way they’d been at the chalet. Even in turmoil that had at least been...real. It hadn’t felt like playacting.

But playacting was better than failing everything he’d set out to do. So there was that. Now he just needed to figure out how to resist thoughts of her, what she might doing, what was going on in that fascinating brain of hers when he needed to be focused on the task of ruling a kingdom.

“A list of what you still need to sign off on will be in your email within the hour, sir,” Mr. Filini said.

“Thank you,” Lyon said. Maybe he hadn’t been focusing well, but nothing had slipped through the cracks yet. Everything was going on just as it should. Parliamentary business addressed. The public response to Beau was increasingly positive.

Everything was going just as it should.

And damn it, he couldn’t relax.

Perhaps he should talk to Beau. Point-blank ask her what was wrong. Would she stop taking up so much of his brain space if he did? He could fix whatever problem was vexing her, and then it wouldn’t feel like his tie and all those old anxieties were choking him by the end of every day.

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