Page 42 of Coronation
“The sex wasn’t the issue,” I retort, staring determinately out the window. “Can we please just drop it?”
Helpfully, the driver chooses this moment to pull open the front door, and Davina falls silent.
It lasts for an entire five minutes before she breaks, jamming her finger on the button to raise the divider between the front and back seats, and rounding on me. “Come on, I’ve been dying to find out what happened, and you haven’t given me anything. I’m getting a little worried here.”
Reluctantly, I turn to face her. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“I thought James had his sights set on you. I turned my back for one minute, and when I looked around, you two were standing at the bar. The man looked like he wanted to eat you alive,” Davina recounts, her eyes wide.
It’s become challenging to swallow.Eating me aliveis a pretty accurate way to describe what happened every time Benedict put his hands on me.
I bite my lip, trying to decide how much I want to tell her. “We had a good time,” I finally confess, prompting an exasperated hiss from the woman beside me.
“And?” she prompts, clearly done with me withholding information.
“Andwhat?”
“And, what happened after that? I knocked on your door Saturday morning to get the tea, but you didn’t answer.”
Probably because I wasn’t there. It’s kind of a relief that Davina still hasn’t pieced that together, and I certainly have no intention of clueing her in. That information would lead to a lot more questions, ones I’m even less interested in answering than these.
“Nothing,” I lie. “I went home. End of story.”
Davina’s brows arch skeptically. “The guy couldn’t take his eyes off you, Z. It was seriously some insta-love shit. Did he ask for your number?”
“Nope.”
She looks genuinely baffled by this. “Seriously? He’s single, you’re single, what’s the problem?”
I scoff, looking away. “Apart from him being way too oldfor me, and a literal k—” I stop speaking before I can finish the word, and shake my head with a grimace. “We aren’t going to see each other again.”
Davina’s head tilts to the side as she studies me, a little frown in place. “Is that why you’ve been off? Because you liked him and he blew you off after the sex was over?”
Ouch.
Her words hit me like an actual, physical blow.Yes.That’s exactly why. Granted, there’s more to the story, but even this is more than I’m willing to admit to. I wish I could laugh it off and pretend I wasn’t bothered. There’s nothing I would like more than to assure her a man I knew all of two dayshadn’thurt me more than any other person in my life. God, why can’t I just feel things at an appropriate level, on an appropriate timeline?
“No. That’s not why I’ve beenoff. Please drop it.” I turn away, staring out the window at the landscape flashing by, sick to my stomach and trying not to cry.
Davina drops it.
The historic home of Stelland’s royal family, Ashwell Palace, is located in the city of Wyngate, several hours south of Dalmore. I’ve seen pictures, of course, but none of them do the place justice. I allow myself to get lost in the elegant mix of old and new as the car takes us through neighborhoods that still have cobblestone streets, only to turn a corner and find myself staring up at a massive, contemporary skyscraper.
The palace is hidden behind high brick walls, crawling with ivy. Every ten yards or so, there is a pillar, inlaid with a gleaming brass medallion of some kind. It’s only when we stop beside a set of tall, burnished gates, the car idling as the guards show through a car in front of ours, that I can see it’s actually a family crest, accompanied by the wordsOfficium Ante Omnia.
“Good afternoon, Miss Flowers. Miss Lovette,” a guard greets us when we roll down the window, showing much moresmoothness in his management of us than one typically sees in people hired to ensure you aren’t terrorists. “If you’ll kindly step out of the car, one of our footmen, David, will show you through.” We do as he says, and as I straighten up, my heart vaults into my throat as I get my first proper view of the palace.
It looks as old as the city itself, a towering structure composed of the same stones which make up the wall and appointed with dozens of pointed baroque windows along the first and second floors, all gleaming in the late morning sunlight. Drawing closer to Davina, I drag my eyes away from the magnificent structure.
I’d known that Benedict was king, of course. It’s not exactly a position one can hide. On the other occasions we were together, however, that fact didn’t hit me quite as hard as it does now. Apparently, it’s one thing to know it and another to see it.
This is the place where the man I calledBenlives, and in retrospect, it’s so preposterous that I even hoped for more from that man than sex. Did I think he would fall in love with me and make me his queen?Ha. Everything about this place is regal and historic, a testament to the nation of Stelland and its royal family. By comparison, the house I grew up in has an infinity pool and movie memorabilia on the walls.
He’s a king, and I’m a Hollywood nepo baby.
It’s good I came today. I needed to see this.
“Zelda?” Blinking, I turn to face Davina and the very proper guard, plastering a polite smile on my face.
