Page 20 of The King's Secret Baby

Inhaling shakily, I straighten my shoulders and give a tight nod. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” Stefan frowns. “I wish you had not asked to schedule all these meetings today. You are in mourning, and?—”

“I’m fine,” I say, less kindly than I intend to. “There’s no point in sitting around moping. There’s too much to be done.”

And I march on down the hall, each step heavier than the last, knowing I’ll have to keep marching, keep going, no matter how much I’m fracturing inside.

As I sit through meeting after meeting, barely registering the discussions swirling around me, my mind keeps drifting to Hailey. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed at something I said. The feel of her hand in mine as we walked back to her apartment from dinner.

God, that feels like a lifetime ago now. When I was just Luca for a night, a man falling for a woman. When I could steal a few precious hours away to spend with a captivating person, without the duty for a nation pressing down on me.

I want to reach out to her. To hear her voice, even if only for a moment.

But wouldn’t she get in touch with me if she wanted to? I sent her the message. She knows why I had to leave New York so suddenly.

Should I call her office? See if…

No.

Personal desires have no place in my life anymore. Hailey is firmly in my past, and that’s where she needs to stay. No matter how much it aches to accept that.

Shoving down the longing, I tune back into the droning voice of yet another government minister. But it’s no use. The words slide in one ear and out the other, my exhausted mind unable to grasp them.

“Your Majesty.” Stefan falls into step next to me as we leave the meeting. “Perhaps we should take a short break? You’ve been going nonstop since dawn.”

I start to refuse, the automatic denial rising to my lips. But I catch the barely concealed concern in his eyes and hesitate. He’s only trying to look out for me, as he always has.

Maybe a few minutes to clear my head wouldn’t hurt. I’ll be no good to anyone if I work myself into the ground.

“You’re right,” I say reluctantly. “Let’s take fifteen minutes. But then it’s straight back to work, understood? I don’t have time to waste on breaks.”

He bows his head in acquiescence, but I catch the flash of relief on his face.

Striding down the hallway, I make my way out to the palace gardens, hoping the fresh air will sweep away the cobwebs and longing, letting me focus on my duty once more.

The smell of honeysuckle and roses envelops me as I step into the lush gardens. I inhale deeply, willing the fragrant air to soothe my frayed nerves. But the ache in my chest remains undiminished.

Everywhere I look, memories assault me. There, the fountain where Father and I used to sail toy boats. The oak tree I fell out of at age seven, resulting in a broken arm. And the rose bushes I was told my mother so lovingly tended before her death. It’s fragments of just another life that one day will be lost to the wind.

No, correction: another life that is already slipping away, my mother and father gone. It’s only me now, the last of my family left standing.

Tears blur my vision, but I blink them back. Turning around, I head for the palace doors. Stefan waits with a slight frown.

“What is it?” My stomach twists.Is it more bad news?

“The journalist that has been sent to shadow you…” He pauses. “You know her.”

I frown. Why is he saying it in such a weird way?

“All right.” I walk past him, not interested in the ambiguity.

The meeting room is bustling with activity when I arrive, courtiers and officials moving to and fro. I barely register them, my mind still churning with dark thoughts.

“Your Majesty.” Geoffrey, my chief of staff, bows low. “May I present Ms. Hailey Warren, the journalist fromThe Morning Starwho will be shadowing you this week.”

My head snaps up at the name, certain I must have misheard. But no, it’s her. Hailey.

She stands stock-still, her slim figure clad in a gray suit, brown hair pulled back in a sleek knot. Those whiskey eyes that captivated me from the first glance meet mine, and there’s a sorrow there.

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