Page 21 of Twelve Nights In The Prince's Bed

She was trying to show that she was in control, but when he placed his hand over hers, then laced their fingers together, any possibility of being in control fell by the wayside. How could anyoneevercontrol this absolute torrent of sensation?

Awareness made her skin prickle; she turned away from him quickly, cheeks warm, reaching for her champagne with gratitude and taking several quick gulps. Beneath the table, Adrastos squeezed her hand but she refused to look at him again.

Though she’d eaten at this table many times, something had changed, and now Poppy saw it almost as an outsider, noticing the elaborate decorations that ran down the centre, the palace staff posted like sentries around the room, making genuine conversation difficult. She’d never felt that before, but the speculation from recent days had reminded her of just how highly watched this family was—and now, Poppy.

She knew from Eleanor how oppressive that could be, but Eleanor was highly adept at living her own life regardless of the press intrusion. And for the most part, as second in line to the throne and someone who had kept a low profile, there wasn’t much interest in her. Unlike Adrastos, who’d made an art form of his bachelor ways.

Alexander and Clementine did most of the talking, reminding Poppy of how wonderful it had been to come to this place, where for all they were royal, they were sonormal,reminding her of her own parents, of what real family should be like. The grief they’d endured, when Nicholas had died, had seemed to make family time even more important to the King and Queen.

Except, Adrastos had fought that.

He’d pulled away when they’d drawn closer.

Poppy had noticed, and she’d wondered, but now something had shifted and the curiosity she felt was no longer a background hum, so much as a rattling at the very front of her brain, demanding answers.

Why had he pulled away?

Why had they let him?

‘Poppy?’ She blinked, looking at Eleanor first and then Adrastos, who had said her name and was looking at her with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, his arm along the back of her chair in a perfect imitation of relaxed intimacy. It made her shiver a little, because it was fake, but for a moment she let herself imagine what it would be like if this were real.

If Adrastos were actually her boyfriend. Ifshewere his girlfriend.

It was a treacherous thought, the reality so far removed from a real relationship, she couldn’t even go there.

‘I’m sorry, did I miss something?’

‘My parents were asking if you’d like to join us at the hospital tomorrow.’

Poppy’s eyes were huge. It was a visit the royal family made on the day after Christmas every year, to a children’s hospital in the city. They spent hours meeting with families, children, doctors, handing out small gifts to each child on the ward.

It wasn’t something Poppy had ever attended.

‘Given the publicity surrounding your relationship,’ Clementine said gently, ‘it makes sense. It’s well known that you’re very much a part of our family, and, as you’re now dating, the public will anticipate your attendance.’

‘Oh.’ A lump formed in her throat. Lying to his family was bad enough, but having to go around as his girlfriend in public? She shook her head slowly. Why hadn’t she foreseen this? ‘I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t think so.’

‘Why not?’ This was Adrastos, his fingers moving from the back of her chair to her shoulder, brushing her flesh slowly, rhythmically, so warmth spread through her, making thought difficult.

Poppy bit down on her lip, thinking quickly, knowing she had to control the narrative. ‘We had no intention of our relationship becoming so public so soon. We wanted to take things slowly, you see. We’re mindful of how complicated things are, given my relationship with your family.’ She didn’t look at Adrastos, but she was pleased with the way her explanation was sounding—so rational and measured. ‘The story’s out there now, but I don’t think we need to further fan the flames. You should all carry on as normal, and I’ll do the same.’

‘But it’s not normal,’ Eleanor said with a lift of her shoulders. ‘The whole world knows you’re an item. So what harm could come from spending time together publicly? You’ve done nothing wrong.’

Hadn’t they?

‘Poppy’s right.’ It was Adrastos, and his support was like steel in her backbone. She felt it flood her and breathed out, relaxing. ‘There will be other hospital visits, other festive seasons. We do not need to rush anything.’

Poppy’s breath hitched in her throat at the ease with which he lied—and the convincing nature of it. He made it sound as if it were a foregone conclusion that they would still be together this time next year, and the one after that. She almost believed him! She caught the surprised, happy look that Clementine and Eleanor exchanged and almost died with mortification. This was a terrible lie she’d been caught up in—a necessity of circumstance. It didn’t make it any easier to sit across from these people and deceive them.

‘The offer is there, should you change your mind, Poppy darling. You know we think of you as one of our own.’

She could only hope that was still the case when all this was over.

Nothing in the palace had ever been off limits to Poppy. From the minute she’d arrived, she’d been welcomed with open arms and told to think of the place quite as her own home. Eleanor had taken her under her wing and together they’d explored every nook and cranny, running through the beautiful, ancient, elegant corridors, some with parquetry floors, some with marble, all with high ceilings, gold vaulted, and enormous floral arrangements on every single piece of furniture. The palace itself dated back to the twelfth century, the oldest parts of it having been refurbished in the rococo style hundreds of years ago, so they were incredibly ornate and breathtaking.

There were only two areas she’d avoided, and not because anyone had ever said as much, but because Eleanor had avoided them and Poppy had understood. They’d never gone anywhere near Nicholas’s room, nor had they approached Adrastos’s.

The former because it was too hard for Eleanor, who’d only been thirteen when her oldest brother had died. The latter because he was someone who seemed to demand, without ever saying as much, that his privacy be respected.

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