Page 5 of The Reluctant Wife

Mr. Singh shakes my father’s hand. “I’m glad I could be of help, Sir. But”—he hesitates—"speaking as a friend, I would advise you to pay off your loans before you borrow anymore; else it’ll result in weakened investor confidence and a downgrading of your credit rating, which will only make it more expensive to borrow further.” His features turn grim. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to pay back your loans before you default.” He bows once more at my father, then nods at Fred, before bowing to me on his way out. “Princess.”

I turn on my father. “Is what he's saying true? Are we on the verge of defaulting on our payments?”

My father exchanges a look with Fred, then turns to me. “You don’t have to worry about that, honey.”

I blow out a breath. My father always dismisses any attempt I make to understand my country’s financial situation. He’s made it clear that my role is to be joined in an advantageous marriage. Given his traditional outlook, I know he’d never allow me to accept my publishing deal. But the size of the advance meant, no way, was I going to turn it down.

I can use the money to finance my living costs, as well as pay my team. It helps me do my bit to ease the financial strain on my father’s resources, even if he’s not aware of it. I lock my fingers together, hoping my nervousness doesn’t show.

"Let me see you." He scrutinizes my features, and his own soften further. "You look so like your mother."

A thickness clogs my throat. I swallow around it. My mother died when I was ten. But memories of her are fresh in my mind. Her gentleness, her laughter, her thick auburn hair, which I inherited. I also get my curves from her. She was taller than me, statuesque. But other than that, I could be her doppelgänger. This is the first time my father’s mentioned it though. Not surprising, considering I don’t get to spend that much time with him.

"She’d have loved to see you all grown up and so beautiful.” A tear slides down my father’s cheek.

"Oh, papa." I close the distance to him but stop short of hugging him. Instead, I squeeze his arm.

For a few seconds, we stay that way. Then Fred clears his throat.

"Sir, you were going to talk to the princess about her security detail?" he urges.

So, my father didn’t call me here to talk about my publishing deal.Whew!My secret is safe...for now.

"What about my security detail?" I incline my head.

"In light of the upcoming investiture of your brother, there is a lot of attention from the world press on Verenza and the Royal Family. So, we’ve made the decision to strengthen the safety detail for all of us," my father informs me.

"It’s Viktor’s investiture; not mine.” I tip up my chin. “I don’t need additional security.”

"You’re a key member of the Royal Family.” My father flattens his lips. "You’re as much at risk as we are.” He and Fred exchange glances.

"Did something happen?" I look between them. “There’s no need to protect me from reality just because I’m a woman,” I point out.

Fred looks uncomfortable. My father’s brow furrows. When he proposed an arranged marriage, I wasn’t surprised. Sure, a part of me rebelled against it internally. But as a member of the Royal Family, I understood that my life partner would likely be someone decided upon by my father.

And when, I found out that my future bridegroom, who belongs to another European Royal Family, would invest enough money to ease my country’s economic vows, I knew this was my chance to help my father. Besides, it’s not like I could say no. My father made it clear this was his expectation of me.

If I'm lucky, Gavin will love me. Although, based on interactions I've had with him, that seems highly unlikely. To be fair, I can't imagine loving him either.

At least, my father decided to keep news of my engagement under wraps.

He and Gavin’s father don’t want to endanger the union in any way. Announcing it would mean too much media scrutiny. I, for one, am happy I don’t have to contend with that. This also means I don’t have to talk about my upcoming nuptials, which suits me fine. I'd rather not think about it at all.

Meanwhile, arrangements are underway for a wedding that will put the world’s attention on Verenza. Only three more months of freedom, and then I’ll be locked in a loveless match with that spineless tosser. Ugh.

I shove those thoughts out of my head and widen my eyes in what I hope is a beseeching expression. "Tell me what’s happened, Papa. I deserve to know."

My father turns to Fred and nods. Fred sighs. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and mops his brow, despite the very comfortable temperature inside this hotel suite. "There has been a threat against you. This one shouldn’t be taken lightly.” There’s a thread of anxiety running through his voice, which tells me he’s rattled.

My stomach turns to stone. My heart begins to race.Another threat? Oh no.I can only imagine how this is going to turn my life upside down again. Every time one of these arises there’s more security, more restrictions, more rules imposed on me, until it feels I can barely breathe. I feel the urge to scream and run out of there, but my mother’s voice echoes in my head:Spine straight. You’re a princess. Never forget that.

As always, it helps me find my composure. I tuck my elbows into my sides. “Any—" I clear my throat. "Any idea why I was targeted?”

Fred shakes his head.

“Is it because those who are behind the threat are anti-monarchists?” I rub at my temple. “Perhaps, it’s because our people are upset at the growing cost of living? Especially, when they see me wearing my fancy clothes and taking part in high profile tours.”

Like this current one to London, where I’ve been fulfilling up to three engagements a day. I’ve been seen at movie premieres, fund-raisers, and charity drives. It’s to keep Verenza top of mind and drive tourism to my country. But from the outside, it can seem frivolous. Especially when so many are struggling to put food on the table.

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