Page 31 of Claiming His Virgin Princess

‘And?’

‘It’s the life I was born into. It’s all I know.’

‘I understand that.’ He brushed her hair off her face as if to see her better then stroked his finger along her forehead, making her aware of her frown. ‘But is it what you want to do? Does it make you happy and fulfilled?’

Noah Carson wasn’t just sexy and compelling. He was downright dangerous. With a couple of words he’d struck to the heart of Ilsa’s problem. Though until now she hadn’t allowed herself to think of it as a problem so much as passing restlessness.

‘Sorry. I’m prying and I promised myself—’

‘It’s okay. Really.’

Except it wasn’t. Not any more. Ilsa had spent so long telling herself everything would work out for the best because she was doing her duty, yet those words sounded increasingly hollow.

She lowered her head to his chest, listening to the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear. It was steady and reassuring, like the man himself. The man, she realised, she trusted. There’d been no vetting done by the palace, no discreet enquiries by her family, just her own instinct, yet Ilsaknewshe could trust Noah as she did few others.

‘No, it’s not fulfilling,’ she admitted finally. ‘Not any more.’

Except for some of her projects, initiatives she’d got involved in by choice rather than because it was expected. Maybe that was where her future lay, pursuing those goals.

‘But it was once?’

Noah wrapped his arms loosely around her, cocooning her in luscious warmth that counteracted the nugget of ice deep inside.

‘To an extent. When I was young I had real purpose. For the first nine years of my life I was the heir to the throne. For as long as I can remember I was trained to lead the country. My parents and tutors aimed to mould me into a queen who could lead the country through thick and thin.’

‘Even when you were a kid?’

Noah sounded shocked. Ilsa heard indignation in his voice and felt...cared for. She let herself wallow in it for a second or two.

‘Of course. It’s easier to learn responsibility and duty early. There were lots of other things to learn too.’

Everything from languages, history and politics to etiquette and understanding her country and its people.

‘But when you were nine that changed because your brother was born?’

‘You’ve done your homework.’ Ilsa circled a finger across Noah’s ribs. ‘As a male, Christoph became the heir.’

‘It seems damned sexist that he took precedence, especially after all that time being the heir.’

Ilsa had grown up knowing what would happen if there was a male heir, no matter how unfair. ‘Sexist yes, but constitutional change is slow and will probably take a generation to push through parliament.’

She paused, innate caution urging her to stop there. But she wanted to share with Noah. Besides, what she was about to say wasn’t really a state secret.

‘But it wasn’t that simple. My brother wasn’t well as a baby and he had health troubles through childhood. For a long time there was doubt he’d be able to inherit.’ More than once they’d feared he’d die.

‘He’s okay now?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Ilsa smiled. ‘He’s grown into a remarkably strong young man.’ At eighteen Christoph was full of energy, making up for all those years of ill health. ‘But until a few years ago that wasn’t the case.’

‘All that time you were still being groomed to take over from your father?’

She lifted her head and saw the implications register in Noah’s expression. She nodded.

‘And now you’re suddenly just the spare.’

‘Spare and surplus to requirements.’ She shook her head as the words emerged. ‘That came out wrong. I love Christoph. I’m relieved things have worked out well for him. I have no qualms about not inheriting the throne.’ She paused. ‘But it’s strange not to have a clear direction and purpose any more.’

‘So where does that leave you?’

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