“Your Majesty.” Monsieur Bouchard bowed as I turned around. “I just want to apologize. I should not have made assumptions. Please know that I will do everything I can to support you and the Crown from here on out.”
“I appreciate that, Monsieur.” I gave him a nod and walked away. I only had one Bouchard to deal with right now and something told me she would be much less apologetic than her father.
Chapter 42
She was already gone when I showed up on her doorstep. The nosey neighbor told Pierre she’d left in a hurry. While Pierre called Mayra to ask where they were, I asked the driver to take us to the Pirouette offices. On the way there, I checked the internet. The paparazzi had a way of knowing where everyone was before anyone else and this couldn’t be much different. The last photo taken of her had been when she arrived yesterday. I’d missed her then because after I finished the cabinet meeting I had a slew of uninvited guests show up and delay me hours. The first moment I had to catch my breath was today, which was why I insisted we leave first thing this morning. As it was, the hour-long plane ride didn’t help my anxiety. I kept mulling over all of the things I wanted—no—needed to say to her, but every time I thought I had it, I came up short.
“She was with Etienne last night,” Pierre said. “So at least she was safe.”
“What do you mean at least?” I grabbed his phone and looked at the screen. It was a gossip magazine with a photograph of Adeline and Etienne on the front page. It looked like they were walking out of a restaurant. The headline: Future Queen or Queen No Longer? Adeline Bouchard Spotted with Childhood Friend, Investor, Etienne Bellerose out on the Town. Is She Back for Good or Just Packing Her Things?
I handed the phone back to Pierre and sighed. He was right. At least she was safe. In the photo, she wasn’t even smiling. Wasn’t even pretending to be happy. I wondered what Etienne thought about me now. He’d already had his reservations about me dating his friend and none of this would help that cause. It didn’t matter. At the end of the day, the only thing that mattered was what she thought of me and right now, I had a bad feeling about it.
Chapter 43
Adeline
One good thing about having Mayra as my security was that even though she was definitely reporting our every move to His Majesty, she was doing it hours after we left places and giving me the freedom to do whatever the hell I wanted—like get drunk on wine in a pub in Marbella. I’d driven straight to the meeting in London and flown right back out to Marbella on a commercial flight. As it turned out, there were no paparazzi following us there or here. I’d made it right on time for my uncle’s bookstore opening and now I was just drinking. With my bodyguard. Because that wasn’t the loneliest thing in the world.
“I’ll tell you what. Men absolutely have no brains.” I set down my wine. “I mean, they do, but they have no common sense.”
“Not where women are concerned,” Mayra said. She was drinking water, despite me pouring her two glasses of wine, which I’d drunk, because I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.
“Especially not where women are concerned.” I took another sip. “I just . . . I thought it would be different, you know? I was ready to give up everything. Everything. My life in London, my company, my friends.”
Mayra handed me a napkin. I looked at it in confusion, until I realized I was crying. Then, I wiped my face and cried harder.
“He’s an idiot.”
“He is,” she agreed.
“I can’t believe he used me.”
“Maybe we don’t have all of the facts straight.”
“We have all of the facts straight.” I slapped the napkin down on the table. “I asked Pierre and he confirmed it.”
“Right, but it’s clear the king has feelings for you.”
“Sure. Lustful ones.” I took a deep breath and hiccupped. “Ugh. I hate hiccups.”
“I think that’s a sign that you drank too much. Or too fast.”
“Well, you know what takes away the hiccups.” I lifted the wine glass and downed it. Then I hiccupped. “That’s supposed to help.” I frowned looking at the empty glass. “It’s not like I ever thought I’d be queen or anything. I mean, for a second I did imagine it but not in a legitimate, I’m going to be Queen of France kind of way, with people bowing at me and stuff.”
Mayra stood up suddenly and curtsied deeply. I laughed at the sight. “Sit down, you weirdo. I’m not queen.”
“Yet.”
I gasped, sitting up straight and looking over my shoulder at Elias. But it couldn’t be Elias. Except, Pierre was standing behind him and I knew I wouldn’t imagine him in my fantasy. I looked around the bar and witnessed everyone bowing and curtsying at him and it occurred to me that he was really here. I stood from my barstool, swaying a bit. Elias caught my arm and held it. I curtsied in front of him. Not as deeply as Mayra. Not as prettily. But as well as I could manage in my drunken state. When I straightened he pulled me into his arms.