Page 46 of Royal Affair
I smiled, apologising for my distraction, but the conversation had become unbearable. The room was too hot, too crowded,filled with people who only saw Princess Evangeline, the royal spare, the scandal-tainted daughter who needed to settle down.
None of them saw me. Not like James did.
"Mother," I leaned closer to her, lowering my voice. "I'm afraid I have a splitting headache. Would you excuse me for the remainder of the evening?"
The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded after a moment's calculation. "Of course, dear. I'll make your apologies."
I slipped away as discreetly as possible, instructing a palace staff member to inform James that I would not require a security escort for the remainder of the evening. Once safely in the corridor, I slowed, uncertain where to go. My suite felt like a gilded cage; the palace gardens were too cold.
What I wanted—who I wanted—was James.
"Your Highness?" Maria, a housekeeper who had served our family for decades, appeared at my elbow. "Are you feeling unwell?"
"Just needed some air, Maria. The dinner was rather stuffy."
She nodded knowingly. "Those formal affairs always are. If you're looking for some peace, perhaps the stables? Always quiet this time of night."
"The stables?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "I haven't been there in ages."
"Mmm, well, that tall bodyguard of yours just headed that way. Looking rather brooding, if you ask me." Her eyes twinkled with the mischief that made her a favourite among the palace staff. "Fine specimen of a man, isn't he?"
My heart stuttered in my chest. "Thank you, Maria. I think I will get some air."
I hurried to my suite, quickly changing from my formal gown into a simpler dress—deep blue velvet that I could move in freely. I grabbed a heavy cloak against the December chilland slipped out through the servants' entrance, avoiding the remaining guests from the state dinner.
The night was crisp, and clear, stars scattered like diamonds across the inky sky. My breath clouded before me as I followed the path down the gentle slope towards the stables. The ancient building glowed with soft light from within, confirming someone was indeed there.
James. It had to be.
I paused outside, suddenly uncertain. What was I doing? Chasing after a man who had made it clear he didn't want me? No—that wasn't quite true. He wanted me; I'd seen it in his eyes at the armoury. He just wouldn't allow himself to act on it.
Tonight, I would change that.
I'd spent weeks analysing my feelings, questioning whether this was mere infatuation, a rebellion against my royal constraints. But it was more than that. James saw me—in a way no one else ever had. He didn't care about my title, lineage, or the scandal that haunted the palace corridors. He cared about who I was beneath it all; that recognition had become as essential to me as breathing.
One night. That's all I needed—before he returned to London and I resumed my royal duties. One night to finally understand this pull between us, to get him out of my system.
With renewed determination, I pushed open the stable door.
The warm scent of hay and horses enveloped me as I stepped inside. The stable was quiet, with the soft whickers of horses greeting me as I moved down the centre aisle. At the far end, I spotted him—James stood at Brutus's stall, his broad hand stroking the stallion's powerful neck. Even from behind, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the rigid control he always maintained.
I paused, watching him. In this unguarded moment, something in his posture spoke of loneliness, of a man who had spent too long carrying a weight no one should bear alone.
We'd already talked tonight—about horses, about his way with them versus people, about the danger of us being alone together. He'd told me I shouldn't be here, and I'd pushed him until he'd finally admitted the truth: that he regretted walking away from me every second since. That conversation had ended with my desperate question—what if I just wanted him, regardless of whether he could stay? He'd looked at me with such longing, such conflict, but hadn't answered. Now, standing here in the quiet stable, I needed that answer.
"Then don't walk away again." I moved until I was directly in front of him. "What if I don't want someone who can stay? What if I just want you?"
He remained perfectly still for a moment, his breathing slow and controlled. His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing my lower lip. The gentleness of the gesture made my heart ache.
"There's an outbuilding," he said finally, his voice rough. "Used to be the stable-master's quarters. Private. Secluded."
My pulse quickened as I realised what he was saying. "Show me."
He nodded once, dropping his hand and stepping away. I followed him out of the stable into the cold night air. We walked in silence across the grounds, moonlight casting long shadows before us. The outbuilding was small, made of the same stone as the stable, nestled amongst bare-branched trees.
James produced a key—of course, he would know where it was kept—and unlocked the heavy wooden door. Inside, it was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the December night. A small fireplace held glowing embers, suggesting someone had been there earlier.
A narrow staircase led to the upper floor, which James climbed without hesitation. I followed, heart pounding against my ribs. The upper room was simple but comfortable—a large bed with a patchwork quilt, a worn armchair, and a small table beneath a window. Moonlight streamed through the glass, painting silver patterns across the wooden floor.
