Page 49 of Twelve Nights In The Prince's Bed

‘I’m starting to have doubts about this,’ she said, quietly. ‘About the agreement we made, about what’s meant to be the clear-cut nature of our “relationship”. Things have become more complicated than we anticipated.’

His expression gave nothing away. The air pulsed with nervousness, tension, anxiety, but was it all from Poppy? Or did Adrastos have some sense of what was coming?

She took a deep breath. She had to do this. Didn’t she? Or could she just pretend everything was normal? Stick out the next six days and then leave as planned? She was about to throw a grenade into both their lives, didn’t it bear thinking about, at least for a moment? The weight grew heavier, the feeling of something being wrapped around her throat, and the words responsible, choking her from within, refused to budge.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said after a beat, cursing herself for not being brave enough, while simultaneously thanking her lucky stars she’d averted a definite disaster. ‘I think I’m just tired.’

His lips tugged downward and his brows knitted together, but a moment later her hand was in his and he was leading her to their room, not through the party but along the terrace and into a different entrance, so no one else could see the paleness of her face.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ADRASTOSHADLITTLEtime for indirectness. He appreciated the importance of discretion at times, particularly with regards to diplomatic discussions, but in his personal life, he always spoke clearly.

It was why he could be confident that he’d never hurt a woman with false expectations. Even if his reputation hadn’t preceded him, Adrastos was frank about his situationbeforegetting into bed with a woman. It was an easy enough conversation to have: a short discussion of his desire to stay single, to keep things ‘light’ and temporary, an aversion to future planning, to discussing anything overly personal.

These were rules he’d broken again and again with Poppy, but only because they had the broader protection of their ‘fake’ relationship and her upcoming departure to enforce invisible, important boundaries.

He didn’t need to avoid personal conversations because they’d defined what they were doing at the start of this. She’d created the need for a ruse, and at first he’d been hesitant, but actually it was...a lot of fun. He’d enjoyed himself. He almost felt sorry that she was leaving in six days, which was exactly why he was craving the end to this.

He needed the simplicity of life pre-Poppy, the order that came from knowing he was alone, all by himself, and always would be. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to put such expectations on Eleanor—maybe she would want to avoid marriage too? But somehow, he doubted it. It felt right that she should provide the royal heirs Nicholas couldn’t, a way of sharing out Nick’s responsibilities between both siblings.

He fell asleep that night with Poppy beside him and a determination about what the future held that didn’t quite fit in his gut, but that he knew he had to stick to. Adrastos had spent a long time carving out a very specific life for himself: it was the only way he knew how to live. Nonetheless, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to clarify things with Poppy again.

Last night, he could have sworn she’d been about to say something. Something important. He didn’t know for sure it was about him, about their future, but just in case she was starting to feel something silly, like that she might want more from him, it was probably a good idea to remind her that Adrastos wasn’t the man she was looking for. In the morning, he’d make sure she understood his limitations. It felt important.

He turned onto his side, stared at the wall, and put aside thoughts of his own future, the life he’d made for himself, to imagine Poppy’s life after this. To imagine Poppy and her career, her future bright and glittering, so beautiful and fascinating, compassionate, smart, loyal, kind. He imagined her leaving the palace, leaving him, and the people she would meet, the opportunity she’d have to replace him, and told himself he was glad: she deserved the happiness she sought, the perfect relationship her parents had shown her.

Adrastos would always be glad, though, that they’d shared this experience. Something had changed within him, and he suspected, he hoped, it was the same for Poppy too.

Poppy woke with a start as the dawn light broke across the forest, bathing the trees in shades of purple and silver, ghostly and ancient against the winter’s sky. She stared at them without seeing, the beating of a drum sounding in her ears, before wrenching her gaze towards Adrastos, who lay sleeping, half dressed, in the bed beside her.

She had to tell him.

Every moment, every breath she took, without being honest with him was like a form of torture. She would have no peace, no relief, unless she did this.

With shaking fingers and a frazzled mind, Poppy slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, where she showered quickly then changed silently into a pale lemon jumper and a floor-length skirt. She finger-combed her hair over one shoulder then paced the foot of the bed, lost in thought, until Adrastos shifted, eyes on her, so she wondered how long he’d been watching her for.

‘It’s early,’ she murmured, flinching as she looked towards the window.

‘I can see that. What’s going on?’

She stopped pacing and stared at him, her heart thumping hard into her ribs. ‘We need to talk.’

He frowned. ‘Yes, we do.’

Hope soared in her chest. Was it possible he felt the same after all? She dug her nails into her palms. It was cowardly, but she was glad to be able to say, ‘You go first.’

He sat up a little straighter, skimming his eyes over her face then focussing on her gaze, so her stomach twisted. When he looked at her, Poppy felt as though he saw right into her soul.

‘I’ve enjoyed doing this, Poppy. Pretending to be your boyfriend has been more fun than I thought it would be,’ he said, with no idea how faint that praise was. ‘I think you are a very special young woman. I’m looking forward to seeing what your future holds.’

Yourfuture, not ours. Seeing, not being a part of.

She nodded jerkily, awkwardly. The hope in her chest ebbed.

‘You are wonderful,’ he said quietly. ‘And you should be happy. I hope, after this, you find yourself more willing to take a chance on a relationship. I think you’ll make some guy incredibly happy one day, Poppy, and I hope he’ll make you happy too.’

It was the absolute worst thing he could say, though of course he didn’t know that. But for Poppy, it felt as though he’d grabbed a knife and slid the blade between her ribs. She spun away from him on a sharp, deep breath, her eyes filling with stars.

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