Page 54 of Royal Affair
"I need air," I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.
"Princess, I don't think that's wise with the press—" Roger began, but I was already moving toward the door.
"Let her go," I heard Dara say quietly. "Give her space."
As I passed, I caught Dara's eye, recognising the sympathy in her gaze. She understood, perhaps better than anyone, what this meant. Not just the loss of my sister, but the irrevocable change to my entire future. No more university, no more veterinary dreams, no more freedom—however limited it had been.
From this moment forward, I was the Crown Princess, the heir apparent, the future Queen of Bellavista.
My steps quickened as I left the study, breaking into a run once I reached the main corridor. I didn't care who saw me, didn't care about royal decorum or propriety. I needed to escape the suffocating walls of the palace, the weight of expectation and duty that had just become a thousandfold heavier.
When I burst outside, the frigid December air hit me like a slap, but I welcomed the shock. Darkness had fallen completely now, the palace grounds illuminated only by security lights. I ran blindly, my only thought being to get away, to find somewhere I could breathe.
My feet instinctively carried me to the stables—where I'd always found solace, and more recently, where I'd found James. Where we'd begun, whatever this thing between us was.
The stable was warm and quiet; the horses shifting in their stalls at my sudden entrance. I walked past them to the empty stall at the end, where they had kept Brutus before moving him to the royal winter pastures. No one would look for me here.
The grief I'd been holding at bay finally crashed over me, a tsunami of emotion that brought me to my knees in the clean straw. I pressed my fist against my mouth, trying to stifle the scream building in my chest. But it was too much—Viktor, Alexandra, the crown, James's absence—a perfect storm of loss, fear, and overwhelming responsibility.
The scream tore from my throat, raw and primal and filled with all the pain I couldn't put into words. But one scream wasn't enough. Another followed, then another, each one ripping through me like a physical wound. Screaming, I knew Alexandra would never laugh at my terrible jokes again. I screamed because someone stole the future from both of us—her life and my freedom. For the little girl who dreamed of saving animals, I screamed instead of ruling a kingdom.
My hands clawed at the straw beneath me, desperate for something solid to hold on to as my world spun apart. The stable walls seemed to close in, the weight of the crown I'd never wanted pressing down on my chest until I couldn't breathe. Queen. The word felt like a death sentence. I wasn't Alexandra—I didn't have her grace, natural authority, or unshakeable sense of duty. I was the spare, the backup plan, the daughter who'd caused nothing but scandal and heartache.
And Viktor—even in death, he was still destroying my life. His ghost would follow me to the throne, his secrets a constant threat hanging over my reign. Could I rule a kingdom while my past provided ammunition against me? How could I protect my people when I couldn't even protect myself?
The sobs came harder now, violent convulsions that shook my entire body. I doubled over, my face pressed to the hay-covered ground, and let the storm rage through me. I cried until my chest ached, until my throat was raw, until I had nothing left inside me but hollow emptiness and the terrible knowledge that everything I'd ever known was gone forever.
"Let it out, Princess," a deep voice said behind me. "Let it all out."
Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me against a broad chest I would have recognised anywhere. His scent—sandalwood and something uniquely him—enveloped me, as familiar now as my own.
"James?" I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming. "How?—"
"It doesn't matter," he said, holding me tighter. "I'm here now."
I turned in his arms, burying my face against his neck as sobs wracked my body. He stroked my hair and back, murmuring soft words of comfort as he rocked me gently.
"She's gone," I managed between heaving breaths. "Alexandra's gone, and now I have to be—I can't be?—"
"Shhh," he soothed, pressing his lips to my temple. "I know, Princess. I know."
I pulled back just enough to see his face in the dim light of the stable, noticing the concern in his blue eyes, the stubble that suggested he hadn't shaved in days, and the weariness etched into his features.
"You came back," I said, wondering if I was hallucinating, if grief had conjured him from my desperate need.
His hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing away tears. "I never should have left."
Something broke open inside me at his words—not the violent torrent of grief, but a quieter, gentler feeling. Amidst everything falling apart, in the eye of this terrible storm, James was here — solid, physical, a touchstone in a world that had just shifted beneath my feet.
"They found Viktor," I whispered, needing him to know and unburden myself of at least this secret. "The news is everywhere. About our marriage."
James nodded, his expression unreadable. "I saw the reports. That's how I knew something was wrong when I couldn't reach you."
"I should have told you," I said, the words tumbling out. "About Viktor, about what happened. But I was so afraid?—"
"There's more," I whispered, my voice so quiet he strained to hear it. "About Viktor. About what really happened five years ago."
His body tensed against mine, but his arms didn't loosen their protective hold.
