Page 40 of American Royals
“And here I thought you weren’t really into musicals,” Teddy said gently. His eyes drifted to a velvet-covered settee against the wall. “Do you want to wait a minute before we head back?”
Beatrice couldn’t help looking over at Connor, who gave an imperceptible shrug. “Whatever you want, Your Royal Highness.”
The way he said her title was utterly cold. As if he needed to remind himself, remind both of them, of her rank.
Beatrice sank wordlessly onto the cushions, trying not to glance over to where he stood: a few meters away, but most likely within earshot. What was he thinking? Was his blood sparking and spinning with as much wild abandon as hers?
Teddy came to sit next to her. Slowly, the panic in Beatrice’s veins began to subside. Neither of them rushed to speak, yet the silence didn’t feel tense or awkward, just … simple. Companionable, even. Perhaps because, alone among all the courtiers she’d met, Teddy had made no demands of her.
Everyone else wanted something. They wanted money or a title or a position in government; they wanted their names next to hers in the papers. Except Teddy. He hadn’t asked anything of her, except perhaps for honesty.
Which she wasn’t entirely sure she could give.
“When I was little, my parents used to bring me and my siblings to the opening night of every show.” Beatrice stared down at her lap, but she could feel Teddy’s gaze on her. “Sam always begged my parents to let us leave at intermission.”
“Why?”
“She hated unhappy endings. Or really, she hated all endings. I think Sam preferred to imagine her own ending, rather than stay and watch everything unravel into a tragedy.” Beatrice glanced over at Teddy. “Now I know how she felt.”
“We don’t have to stay,” he offered, and Beatrice knew he understood that this was about more than the musical.
“I’m sorry for running out like that, and for the way everyone was staring at us. I haven’t been on a lot of dates before,” she fumbled to say, “but I do know that they aren’t supposed to go like this.”
“Our first date was never going to be normal.”
Beatrice managed an uncertain smile. “Probably not, but we still could have gone somewhere without a literal audience.”
Teddy chuckled at that, then quieted.
“Beatrice. I want you to know that I …” He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words with care. “Respect you,” he decided at last.
That didn’t sound particularly romantic, but Beatrice realized that Teddy wasn’t striving for romance. He was just telling her the truth.
“Thank you,” she said cautiously.
“Before we met, I wasn’t sure what to expect of you. I didn’t realize how thoughtful, and smart, and dedicated you are. You’re going to be an amazing first queen. If this was a world where people could, I don’t know, vote for their monarch, I know that America would still pick you. I would pick you.”
Elect the king or queen—what a funny concept. Everyone knew that elections only worked for judges and Congress. Making the executive branch pander to the people, go out begging for votes—that could only end in disaster. That structure would attract the wrong sort of people: power-hungry people with twisted agendas.
Teddy gave an uncertain smile. “I realize this is all a setup, that your parents are the ones who asked you to go out with me.”
She stiffened. “Teddy …”
“I get it,” he said smoothly. “I’m under the same kind of pressure.”
“You only came here tonight because your parents asked you to?”
“No—I mean yes, they did—but I’m trying to tell you that I understand how it feels. Being the heir to a dukedom isn’t that different from being the heir to a kingdom, just on a smaller scale. I know what it’s like to have burdens and commitments that other people can’t understand. And even if they did understand them …”
They would run in the other direction, and leave the tangle of responsibilities with us, Beatrice silently finished.
Teddy shifted on the seat next to her. “I didn’t go into this thinking that I would like you, but I do. So I hope that our first date isn’t also our last.”
Beatrice gave a slow nod. He was right: among all the young men her parents had picked for her, Teddy was a pleasant surprise. “Me neither,” she admitted.
As they returned to the shadows of the royal box, her family cast her a few curious glances, but Beatrice ignored them. She settled back into her chair, smoothing her black cocktail dress around her legs so that it wouldn’t wrinkle.
She told herself that Teddy was right. They might not be in love with each other, in a passionate, head-over-heels, romance-novel sort of way, but at the very least they understood each other.
