Page 33 of The Princess Sister Swap

‘Because I don’t belong here. I’m not wanted here.’

‘I want you, and I bet your sister does too.’

She knew he was trying to help but how she wished he wouldn’t; every word just made it worse, showing her a future she could never inhabit. ‘My mother left France because it was considered too close to Asturia, too risky. At one point my father tried to persuade her that she should move to New Zealand in order to protect the secret of my existence, but she didn’t want to go so far alone so they compromised on Cornwall. I don’t think, judging on the conversation we’ve just had, that he’s changed his mind.’

‘This isn’t about him.’

‘No, it’s about me. He reminded me that if word got out about who I was then life will be even more difficult for Rosy—and it’s going to be hard enough for her from now on, we both know that. I love my sister, Akil, she is the one constant I have. I couldn’t live knowing my existence was like some time bomb waiting to explode.’

‘Have you asked her? Because I bet you anything she would tell you that she doesn’t care about any possible scandal, that she would give anything to have you close by. She loves you too, Clem. She would want you to be happy.’

‘But how could I be happy living so close to a father and sister who can’t acknowledge me? If you and I were together then wouldn’t there be times we were in the same place and at the same events? And we would have to be strangers! I can’t live like that, I can’t. I can’t be here unacknowledged, unwanted. It would break me, Akil.’ The words were torn from her, and the tears she so desperately tried to keep back made it through the barriers. ‘How could I live as a stranger to my family?’

He enfolded her in his arms, and she allowed herself the luxury of leaning in against him. ‘You’re not unwanted, Clem. Never that. I’d be by your side throughout.’

How she wished she could believe him. ‘And if we didn’t work out? We barely know each other after all, it’s just been a few weeks. You’re the one who said that mutual goals were a better basis for a relationship than love. That love complicates things, that your parents married as a result of a summer romance and made each other miserable. What if that is us? What if we realised in a week, or a month or a year that it wasn’t working? Where would I be then? Surely it’s better to make a clean break before we’re in too deep?’ She allowed herself another second of absorbing his strength, memorising every muscle, before she stepped back, trying to keep her expression neutral, to hide how much every word hurt.

‘I did say that.’ His smile was rueful. ‘And I meant it. But that was because I didn’t know what love was. I’d never been in love before, you see. I do know now, though, thanks to you, Clem, and my feelings aren’t going to change. You just need to trust me.’

‘I can’t. I can’t, Akil. I wish I could. It’s a nice idea, extending whatever this is between us, but it’s not practical. Better to realise that what we have here is a summer romance, a lovely, memorable time out from reality. I’ll always cherish it.’

‘Or maybe it’s more, maybe we have the chance of something extraordinary.’

‘Maybe in another life.’

‘We only get this one chance, Clem.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, not able to prolong the torture for another moment. ‘But you have to go. I need to pack.’

Akil stood stock-still, dark eyes blazing. ‘Don’t just give up on us, Clem. Don’t give in without a fight.’ He stared at her for a moment longer and, unable to bear the weight of his gaze, she looked away. By the time she looked back, he was gone.

Clem stood frozen to the spot for one moment and then sank to her knees, letting out a howl of such grief it shocked her, and then another one wracking her body. She crouched there, allowing the tears to flow and the sobs to pour out until she was spent with emotion, and then clambered to her feet. Her chest and throat ached, but the pain in her chest, which had tightened the whole time Akil had been here, was gone. Now she could move.

Her father had arranged for the plane to fly her back that evening, so she headed back up the garden to the villa mechanically. She’d brought very little with her, so as not to arouse suspicion, and it didn’t take long to put her scant few belongings in her bag. A paper bag on the dressing table held the bracelets and cufflinks she’d bought a few weeks ago and she slipped one bangle onto her wrist, leaving the other for her sister. She held the cufflinks tight in her hand for one long moment then slipped them into her pocket—she’d ask Henri to deliver them. Her bag packed, she took it through to the hallway and then began to tidy up the coffee she’d made earlier.

She needed to keep busy. She couldn’t allow herself to think, to feel, to understand that this was her last day in Asturia, that she’d never see Akil again, had no idea when she’d see her sister again.

Finally, there was nothing else to do and Clem wandered back out into the garden and down to the bathing platform staring out at the lake, at the magnificent palais in the distance. She’d never wanted to grow up here; beautiful as it was, she preferred the Cornish cottage, and was immensely grateful she’d not had to deal with all the rigmarole and ceremonial nonsense Arrosa had had to navigate. But she’d like to have been able to visit here, to share this house with her sister, for them to be sitting here by the lake together gossiping, a chilled bottle of wine awaiting them on the terrace.

If she’d said yes to Akil, if she’d been braver, stronger, would that have been a possibility? How could it have been? She and Rosy could have no public relationship; that was why she had to go home, for her sister.

Clem sat down and trailed her hand in the cold water, closing her eyes and remembering the moment Akil had kissed her in the sea, the overwhelming sensations. It had all been overwhelming. Yes, she wanted to protect her sister, but she also needed to protect herself. She was frightened of being hurt, frightened of being left behind, frightened of not being enough.

But it was too late. She had let Akil into her heart and now she was hurting, more than she’d ever imagined possible. But it wasn’t Akil’s fault; she was doing it to herself. He wanted her to stay; he wanted her to be with him. She was the one turning away.

She knelt down and stared at her reflection in the water, pale and big eyed. What if she did stay? What was the worst that could happen? She couldn’t control what her father did or said, and she’d have to be respectful of Arrosa’s wishes around any kind of public relationship, but really who would connect Clemence Beaumont with the royal family? Her similarity to her sister was striking, but wild dark curls and hazel eyes were common enough in Asturia.

Akil loved her. She rocked back as the truth of the words hit her. What must it have cost him to have said that? To have made himself so vulnerable, he who lived a life led by duty and responsibility? But he loved her and wanted her no matter the consequences. It was what she’d always wanted and yet she was willing to throw it away.

How could she when she loved him? Could she really return home and carry on living without him? Carry on as if all this had never happened? Of course she couldn’t. She was no longer that grieving girl with no idea who she was and what she wanted, who had arrived here just a few weeks before. Akil had helped her find the way. And her way was with him.

She just had to find a way to tell him.

Akil didn’t know where he was going to go or what he was going to do as he drove away from the Palais d’Artega, but one thing he did know for sure. This wasnotthe end of the conversation. He was not going to just give up.

It would be one thing if Clem had decided to go back to Cornwall of her own volition; if she didn’t care enough about him to stay. He wasn’t going to pretend that it wouldn’t hurt, but he’d have to accept her decision. But he was pretty sure that was not what was going on here. He had no idea exactly what Zorien had said to her but whatever it was had clearly persuaded her that she had no place in Asturia, that her very presence was a danger to her sister.

But the real danger was the secret itself. Secrets had power, a power that only existed as long as the secret did, a power that disappeared once freed. Clem was in her twenties now, and Zorien had technically been a free man when she’d been conceived. The news of her existence would undoubtably cause some scandal, but it would be a short-lived one, especially if both the Artega and the Ortiz families rallied around her.

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