Page 29 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8
And now the questions that ricocheted around her brain were:Was there any getting past it?Should she even try?
This morning she would have said definitely not. She shouldn’t evenwantto. She knew what this arrangement was about. He reminded her of it often enough, and she had no intention of risking her heart for nothing. But now she couldn’t help wondering whether there wasn’t nothing, butsomething. Whether, if shedidhave any expectations, they might actually not be unreasonable.
She kept thinking about the moment on the terrace when he’d revealed the pressure he was under. The regret in his voice when he’d told her they were who they were and there was no point wishing otherwise. Deep down, did he know it wasn’t a binary choice but that he was simply afraid of being hurt again? And if that was the case, what if she could show him that he had nothing to fear from her? That he could have both work and her without it resulting in drama and distraction? What if she could show him that they could serve the monarchy and the peopleandhave love and romance too? That it didn’t have to be a zero sum game.
Sofia knew these were unwise thoughts. They loosened the ropes that kept her safe and opened her up to heartbreak and pain. However, her feelings, which swelled and deepened with every new facet of himself he revealed, were increasingly hard to contain. They were beginning to overwhelm her.
But if the risk of chaos and devastation wasn’t as great as she’d always believed, maybe she had nothing to fear from setting them free. And if there was even the tiniest flicker of hope that he might one day be able to return her love, maybe, instead of fighting to keep it to herself, she ought to reveal it.
Not in words, of course. It was far too soon for that and, given the assumptions he’d made about her and his attitude towards his ex, he might consider it a lie by omission. He might feel deceived, possibly even betrayed. But perhaps she could unwrap her feelings subtly. Through her actions. She could start by opening up a little in the hope that he might reciprocate, step by tiny step, until after a while, with any luck, he started to see her in a different light.
She wouldn’t expect immediate results, of course. She wasn’t acompletefantasist. This would likely take a long time. It was certainly a strategy with an uncertain outcome and if she’d got this all wrong, she’d suffer rejection more painful than any she’d endured at the hands of her parents.
However, she didn’t think she was wrong. She thought that deep down he wanted all the things that she did. She thought that, if he could get over his fears and allow himself to love her as much as she loved him, they could have happiness beyond their wildest dreams. She could have everything she’d ever wanted. And so, if she was right, could he.
But first, she thought dizzily, as he stripped off and a wave of lust consumed her, she was going to do whatever it took to make sure that he didn’t get bored.
By the time they finished their late and long lunch beneath the draping, waving branches of a willow tree, Ivo was at his wits’ end. With the exception of a couple of interludes in the river, which had involved no swimming at all, ‘fun’ was not how he’d describe the afternoon.
Unnerved by their earlier discussions about love, he’d decided that he would control what they talked about over cold chicken and an array of salad. He would not allow another foray into a topic that roiled his stomach. Instead, he’d turned his attention to getting the answers to the questions about Sofia that had plagued him the evening before at the ball. A deeper understanding of who she was and why would add to their partnership and strengthen the foundations of the monarchy, he was certain.
‘Tell me about your parents,’ he’d begun, deciding to start with a continuance of the conversation they’d begun in her room on their wedding night, which had been aborted by constitutional obligations and the clock.
In the process of uncapping a pot of fat green olives, Sofia had shot him a startled glance. ‘I’d rather not,’ she’d said with a grimace. ‘It’s far too beautiful a day for such a gloomy topic. Let’s talk about something else instead. Like… I don’t know… Any unreasonable expectationsyoumay have. Or who you’d be and what you’d do if you weren’t who you are.’
God no, Ivo had thought with a shudder. What was there to say anyway? All his expectations were entirely reasonable and, as he’d told her several times now, hypotheses were pointless. He could not afford to indulge in such ridiculous fantasies. Fifteen minutes of doing so on the terrace outside a ballroom was quite bad enough.
‘I’ve talked about myself ad nauseam over the past few weeks,’ he said, recalling the endless history lessons and myriad explanations he’d given her for his decisions and conduct. ‘Now it’s your turn. You wanted communication. So communicate.’
‘Fair enough,’ she agreed with a nod. ‘My parents were a nightmare. As I told you, they argued a lot, pretty much all the time for as long as I can remember. It was horrendous. I used to dread coming home from school. The unpredictability of their personalities and their relationship meant that I never knew what I’d find. The simplest of conversations would descend into a row. They were so loud the neighbours must have been able to hear every word. Things were frequently thrown.’
‘How did you cope?’ he asked, unable to imagine how awful such conflict must have been for her.
‘I had to block it out.’
‘By listening to music with your headphones on and dancing the negative energy away?’
Her eyebrows rose. ‘You remember that?’
‘Of course. I have an excellent memory.’
‘That was one way,’ she said. ‘Another was by daydreaming about life at the palace.’
Nowhiseyebrows were the ones to rise. ‘Mypalace?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. I frequently transported myself from my house to yours, where it felt like nothing would ever go wrong. I envisaged beautiful royal people doing beautiful royal things, in perfect peaceful harmony, with never a cross word. Of course I realise how unrealistic that was, and I probably did then, but at the time I didn’t care much for reality. I just needed an escape. Which was another reason I married you. Regardless of what was actually going on behind the palace walls, the monarchy got me through some tough times. I feel a strong sense of loyalty towards it, so strong that I even pursued a career doing what I could to support it. I didn’t want to see the crown fall into the hands of someone who didn’t care. I couldn’t allow everything you and I had worked for to go to waste.’
‘You’re not a dreamer these days,’ he said, trying to equate his uber-professional communications secretary with the troubled adolescent she must have been, and failing. ‘So what happened?’
‘I toughened up,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘Despite the music and the fantasies, my childhood was a pretty lonely time. There wasn’t a whole lot of love going round and I could hardly bring friends back, even if I’d had any. On the upside, though, I learned to be resilient and self-reliant. My parents were both so awful I couldn’t side with either one so I chose to side with me, instead. I didn’t like the rage I felt at their dysfunction. The volatility of my emotions felt too much like theirs, so I did my level best to control it. I still do. I also try to avoid confrontation and prioritise communication over letting things stew, which was another point in your favour. You have a solid grip on your emotions. You offered a relationship free from drama and chaos, which I wanted, and I value honesty and steadfastness, which you have in abundance.’
The conversation had then moved on to his childhood, which had been considerably less traumatic, and then they’d stopped talking to lose their minds in each other’s arms again.
But now, but with the sun sinking towards the horizon, Ivo wasn’t feeling very steadfast. The grip he had on his emotions didn’t seem solid at all. His stomach was churning and his chest was tight. He had no clue as to why he could hear the rapid thud of his heart in his ears, but it felt dramatic. He felt…chaotic. He was being hammered by the more troublesome aspects of her upbringing, such as loneliness, neglect and a stark lack of both affection and friends. Battered by the need to dig deeper to tease out her hopes and fears and find out whether she did in fact have any dreams and, if she did, what they might be. For all she had said, he could feel there was much more she was holding back.
He couldn’t shake the unsettling sense that his foundations weren’t built on impregnable rock but shifting sands instead. His feelings for her were supposed to simple. Basic. Centred on respect and liking and nothing more. But they were turning out to be anything but simple. Mixed up among them was lust, madness and other dark swirling things he couldn’t identify, and suddenly, it seemed imperative to remember whyhe’dmarriedher. To focus on the admirable character traitsshepossessed.
Her resilience was an asset to the crown, he told himself, recalling the pragmatic nature of their relationship that, for a moment, had got lost. As was her deep unwavering loyalty, which was evidently not to him but to the institution, exactly as it should be. Her self-reliance meant that he would be able to attend to business without having to worry about her. Her focus on peaceful resolution and transparency matched his, which augured good things for their marriage and the country. Once again, he congratulated himself on having identified an excellent queen in Sofia. Once again he congratulated himself on restoring order.
