Page 22 of A True King

I get up and walk to the bedroom, placing one hand on the doorknob. I turn it and crack the door open an inch, peering inside. Mia is fast asleep, curled up on one side of the bed. She looks small all by herself. I want so badly to crawl beside her, but my pride and destroyed heart keep me from doing it. I gently close the door and stretch my arms before returning to my seat to watch the sunrise as I try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. Anna’s right. I do need to choose my path. I just don’t know which one yet.

Chapter Eleven

Mia

The knock on the door from the flight attendant wakes me. I groggily make my way to the front of the jet and take my seat next to Christian. He doesn’t even acknowledge me as he keeps staring out the window while we are brought our breakfast. So much hangs in the balance, and I don’t know what else I can say to make things right between us. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’ve messed everything up beyond repair. Maybe our love isn’t redeemable.

I quietly sip my juice and take a few bites of the omelet in front of me. It’s my favorite kind, filled with goat cheese and smoked salmon and asparagus. I tried it once at a summer camp my parents always sent me to in Michigan. I should have gone to the United States. I spent my teen years at a boarding school near Washington, D.C. It’s where I got my unusual accent, part English, part American, and now a hint of Norddale. It was something Christian always said he found charming about me. I wonder if that still rings true.

As our plates are cleared, I finally muster my courage and turn to Christian. “Has Anna found out anything about the man who threatened everyone?”

He turns his head slightly, but his gaze doesn’t meet mine. “Not yet. She’s working on it with Jack. Jack has a team member whose specialty is finding people, even more so than Anna. Between the two of them, I’m sure they will figure it out.”

“Are we returning to the castle?” I ask because at this point, I honestly don’t know if I’m going to prison, the castle, or somewhere else.

This time Christian’s entire body turns to me. He looks at my face for a long while and I tap my finger nervously on the arm of the chair.

“No. I’m taking us to the Summer Palace.”

With a frown, I ask, “But isn’t it closed right now?”

He shrugs. “It’s never closed to me.”

At certain times of the year, the royal family resides at the Royal Palace and the Summer Palace is cleaned and maintenance is performed. Normally, no member of the family would stay there during this time as it would be an inconvenience. I’m unsure of how to read Christian’s words. But I’m also relieved he didn’t say I was going to prison for treason.

“What about the king?” I ask.

“What about him?”

“Surely, he wants to speak to me.”

“He doesn’t know yet.”

My eyes widen in shock. “What do you mean ‘he doesn’t know yet’?”

“I don’t want to go to him with anything until we have more information. I’ve even kept Pete out of the loop.” Christian motions to Cain and Vince who are speaking to the flight attendant. “Even they don’t know everything. Just Logan, Anna, Jack, you, and me.”

I swallow at the realization that maybe, just maybe, Christian still loves me. He hasn’t turned me in yet. But why? I don’t ask that last question out loud because honestly, I’m too afraid to know the answer.

We return to our uncomfortable silence as the captain comes on the overhead speaker and announces our initial descent into Norddale. Even after landing, we are quiet as we climb into a limo and head to the Summer Palace. The drive isn’t long, forty minutes, but it might as well be forty days. I glance over at Christian at least every other minute, but he doesn’t look at me. His brows remain furrowed, that telltale little wrinkle between them appearing and disappearing as he muses over information. That’s how well I know him. Just a small wrinkle tells me how he’s feeling. If a wrinkle appears around the crease of his lips, then he’s fighting a grin. If one appears at the corners of his eyes, then he’s truly happy. If his forehead wrinkles, then watch out, he’s mad. I’ve studied this man for only a few years, but I’ve seen so much. I just wish I knew what he was thinking. This dam will have to break soon and I’m not sure what is scarier, not knowing what will happen, or knowing something “will” happen.

As the Summer Palace comes into view, nestled amongst the hills, I watch it. I never tire of seeing it. It’s beautiful. Even with the damage done several years ago, it still looks like a fairy tale come to life. I remember my first visit here. I was so excited. I’d read three whole books about it. Christian showed me every square meter of it while exploring every crevice of my body in each room and corridor.

I close my eyes and remember his gentle touches. The way he wanted me to feel good. The way he focused on my needs in a way no man ever had. We had only been together for a few short months during that first visit. It was a honeymoon period. But that honeymoon has never ended. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, yet it never did. Until now.

My eyes find the garden and stables as we approach the palace. A flush creeps over my face as I remember how he leaned me over a bench in that stable. I can still feel the riding crop as it smacked my ass. I can still hear the metallic sound of his zipper. I can still smell the hay as he entered me from behind.

My legs involuntarily press together as I think of that, and for the first time since the plane, Christian looks over at me. His eyes focused on the apex of my legs. I blush and look away. I hear his breath as he exhales.

Stealing a glance, I see his pupils dilate and his fists clench. He remembers too. How do we still affect each other this much? Our bodies' responses to the other’s are magnetic. It’s unavoidable the chemistry between us. How long will we be able to deny it?

Chapter Twelve

Christian

We are greeted by Tessa. I’ve missed her. This woman was not just my nanny but became like a second mom to me after mine died. If she hadn’t kept me in check during those rough teenage years, who knows what I would have become. And now, she runs the kitchen at our Summer Palace, because Tessa’s other skill is cooking. Her Southern American–style food could warm the coldest soul.

I walk into her open arms and pull her to me.

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