Page 82 of Fallen Knight

“Who is it?”

“A friend of Nora’s is a public affairs editor at a magazine in New York. I reached out to her for help. After she gave me a strongly worded piece of her mind, she agreed to have a chat with me. The piece will hit newsstands mid-December. Which will coincide with my exhibit.”

“Exhibit?”

“Photography.”

Most of his life, photography’s been one of my brother’s true passions. It helped him cope with all the changes in our lives after our uncle’s death. Then our mother’s. I’ve always told him he has a true talent for it. Not just in pointing a camera and shooting, but in finding picture-worthy subjects. Because of who he is, he’s never shared his talent with the world, despite all the times I’ve encouraged him to do so.

I’m glad he finally is.

Maybe this will help him cope with all the changes he’s currently going through.

“I’m proud of you.” My lips lift into a smile. “I just better be on the guest list, or there’ll be hell to pay.” I wink.

“You know you are.”

“Good.”

I reach across the table, grabbing his hand in mine. For what feels like the first time in ages, his grip on me is firm. Confident.

“I’m happy for you, Anders.”

“I suppose now you’re off the hook and can go back to Paris.” He pulls away from me, bringing his teacup to his lips.

“I’m not sure I want to go back,” I admit softly.

Anderson’s expression widens, mouth growing slack. “Really?”

I shrug, my admission just as much of a surprise to me.

When I first arrived here, I wanted nothing more than to leave this place, return to my former life that had as little to do with being royalty as possible.

I don’t feel the same urgency anymore.

In fact, the idea of falling back into my old routine is borderline depressing. Sure, I volunteer a great deal, as well as have spearheaded my initiative for human trafficking survivors. But I’m not needed. I don’t feel like I actually serve a purpose, other than being Tristan Hughes’ arm candy.

Yesterday, I felt like I actually had a purpose again.

I want more of that.

“Like you told me all those years ago. You may hate certain things about this monarchy, but it’s much easier to make a change from within. So I want to be a part of that change. Here. With you. This is where I belong.”

He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his once more. “I’m thrilled to hear that.” A smile lights up his face for a moment before it falters. “Have you told Tristan?”

I sigh, pulling away and relaxing back into my chair. “I didn’t realize I wanted to stay until now. Tristan’s always been understanding. He didn’t blink an eye when I told him I planned to temporarily resume my duties.”

“That’s true,” Anderson draws out.

“But…” I say, sensing there’s more.

“This is vastly different than temporarily resuming your duties. You’ll be back in this life. Permanently.” He narrows his gaze. “Along with everything that comes with it, the goodandthe bad.Tristanwill have to be a part of this life, along with the good and the bad. Are you sure he wants that?”

I want to argue he’ll be okay with that. But I can’t say with any level of certainty he will.

“Are you sureyouwant that, too?” he presses when I remain silent. “That you want Tristan in this life with you?” He arches a single brow.

I stare into the distance, wanting to tell Anderson I do.

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