Page 86 of Royally Roma
Niccolo swallowed. He wasn’t going anywhere, apparently. “Nowhere, sir.”
“Precisely. Have you forgotten that you’re speaking to the press in a matter of minutes?”
Of course he hadn’t. How could he? This was his life. It always had been, and it always would be. He’d accepted his fate a long time ago.
He thought he had, anyway.
“No, I haven’t forgotten. But...”
“But?” His grandfather’s gaze narrowed. “You’ve never dared talk back to me before, Niccolo. In the past forty-eight hours, you’ve turned our monarchy upside down. Do you have any idea how many palace resources have been devoted to tracking down your whereabouts? We thought you’d been kidnapped or held against your will. Imagine my disappointment when I found out the crown prince had simply run away. This is unacceptable. Have you forgotten that you’re the future king, Niccolo?”
“Forgotten?” Niccolo spat. “I couldn’t forget such a thing if I tried.”
His grandfather flinched as if he’d been slapped. Niccolo was crossing a line, and he knew it. His grandfather was his sovereign. The ultimate authority. Niccolo should be groveling at this point.
But he’d been the dutiful prince his entire life, and where had it gotten him? He’d never been so miserable in his life.
“Grandfather, I’ve never made a single misstep in my entire public career.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “Until now.”
“Wrong.” He refused to think of the past two days as a misstep. He may have been pretending to be someone else, but he’d never felt more genuine. If only he’d admitted as much to Julia before it was too late. “It wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice—one that I would make again, if given the opportunity.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Niccolo. We will never speak of this weekend again. You’re going to go out there and speak to the press, appease the Roman people, and then you will continue your royal tour. Is that understood? You’re a prince. Act like one.” The king turned around and headed for the door.
The discussion was over. Just like Niccolo’s ill-fated holiday.
Had it just been a holiday and nothing more? Was he a fool to think he could make something out of a relationship that should have never happened to begin with?
Maybe. Probably. But the idea of letting her go without a fight was impossible to consider. Would Caesar have given up on the woman he loved?
“No,” he said. Quietly. Calmly. It was almost frightening how calm he felt, despite the fact that he was breaking every known rule of royal protocol.
The trouble was that protocol seemed of little importance at the moment. The only thing that mattered was finding Julia. Finding her and convincing her that they could make this work. Somehow.
His grandfather sighed, and when he turned to face Niccolo again, the lines on his face seemed deeper. He looked older somehow. “Niccolo, don’t do this. You’re the good prince. Without you, our monarchy is doomed.”
“Exactly. It’s too much pressure for one man, Grandfather. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t, and I won’t. Not like this.” He didn’t even know he’d made the decision until the words left his mouth, but once they had, it was like a weight had been lifted from his chest. He could breathe again. “I love you. I love Lazaretto, and I love our family. But I can’t be the one to clean up Cassian’s messes anymore. I can’t be the perfect prince. I need a life of my own.”
The king stood quietly for a moment, absorbing what Niccolo had said.
When at last he lifted his gaze to Niccolo’s, the look in his eyes was more human than regal. “What are you proposing?”
“For starters, I’d like a few days to myself every now and then. I’ll still handle the bulk of the royal appearances, but from now on, Cassian will be responsible for atoning for his own misdeeds. Does that sound fair to you?”
His grandfather nodded slowly. “I suppose it does.”
“One more thing.” Niccolo squared his shoulders. “I choose the women I date, including the one I will eventually marry. My life. My choice.”
“You’re talking about the future queen. It’s not that easy, Grandson.”
“It can be,” Niccolo countered.
“Might I assume you’re talking about Miss Costa?”
So his grandfather had already been told about Julia. Of course.
Niccolo’s throat grew tight. “Yes and no. Miss Costa and I have said our good-byes.”
