Page 17 of Royally Wed
The betrayal had cut Asher to the quick. He’d played through the anger, attacking his cello like it was a wild beast in need of taming. And then one day, he’d had enough. It was easier not to feel. Such a relief, until he realized the feeling had left his music as well. There was an emptiness to his playing that had never been there before. He hated the hollow sound his bowmade now when it slid over the strings.
So he’d simply stopped.
Days became weeks, and weeks stretched into two months. Then the palace called. The song he played for the princess in Westminster Abbey two nights ago had been the first full piece he’d played in eight weeks.
“I’m really glad you came.” Serena’s careful enunciation told him she was repeating herself. He’d tuned her out. She’dalways hated that. “When Jeremy told me you’d been invited, I was worried you’d decline.”
“You can stop feeling guilty, Serena. I’m alive and well,” he said.
“Asher, please...”
They were alone now in the lobby, save for a small cluster of people Asher didn’t recognize. An older man who looked vaguely familiar stood at the center of the small group that included a woman roughly his age anda few others. Ayounger man beside him tapped away at an iPad. He had the same frantic look about him that seemed to be James’s default expression. Asher presumed the young guy to be another royal page.
But who was the older man?
“Is that the prince consort?” Asher asked, interrupting Serena’s attempt at peacemaking.
Her gaze flitted to the figure in question. “Him? No. That’s Holden Beckett,the Duke of Atteberry.”
Asher frowned. “I thought Holden Beckett was the groom’s name.”
This couldn’t be the groom. He looked old enough to be Amelia’s father. Asher could have sworn Princess Amelia had called her husband-to-be by that name, though. He really needed to take the time to read the godforsaken packet.
“It is. Duke Holden is marrying Princess Amelia.” Serena’s gaze narrowed. “Youreally have been hiding yourself away, haven’t you?”
Asher didn’t respond. He figured it was a rhetorical question anyway, and he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the older royal.
Thiswas the man Princess Amelia was marrying?
He couldn’t see it. He just couldn’t picture the two of them together.
Not your business, remember?
The woman beside Duke Holden smiled up at him and brusheda bit of fluff from his lapel. As she did so, the duke caught her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. Their fingers remained intertwined a beat too long to signal a simpleplatonic friendship.
The tightness in Asher’s chest intensified, and he had the distinct feeling he was witnessing something he shouldn’t.
Just like he had two nights ago at the Abbey.
