Francesca was waiting for her in her bedroom, eager to hear about the party as she helped her undress.
‘You wowed them all, I am sure,’ she exclaimed. ‘So beautiful...’
Rachel forced a smile as she bent her head and allowed Francesca to undo the clasp of her necklace. She remained quiet as she took off the rest of her jewels, and the stylist put them away in a black velvet case that would be returned directly to the vault where all the crown jewels were kept.
Then Francesca undid the zip of her gown, and Rachel carefully stepped out of it, and into the waiting robe.
‘I drew you a bath,’ Francesca said as she swathed the dress in a protective bag. ‘I know it’s late, but I thought you might want to relax.’
‘Thank you, Francesca, you’re a saint.’ Since their first meeting, when Mateo had glowered at and almost fired her, Francesca had proved to be a stalwart stylist and a good friend. Rachel was grateful for the other woman’s support.
With the dress draped over one arm, Francesca frowned at her. ‘Is everything all right?’
Rachel managed another wan smile. ‘Just tired. Exhausted, really.’ She considered asking Francesca if she knew who Cressida was, but she could imagine Mateo’s reaction if he discovered she was asking around. Clearly, for him, the woman was off-limits to everyone, even Rachel. Especially Rachel.
‘Have a bath and get some sleep,’ Francesca advised. ‘It’s a big day tomorrow.’
‘Another one?’ Every day had been a big day.
‘We have the final fitting for your dress, a rehearsal for the ceremony, and a dinner in the evening with about thirty guests.’
Rachel’s head drooped at the thought of it. ‘Right. Okay.’
‘You’re sure everything is all right?’ Francesca looked at her, worry clouding her eyes.
For a second Rachel wanted to confide in the other woman. She wanted to confess to all the doubts that were now crowding her heart and mind.
I don’t know if I can cope with this. I’m not sure I’m queen material after all. I’m afraid the man I’m about to marry is still in love with another woman.
‘I’m fine,’ Rachel said as firmly as she could. ‘Thank you.’
Francesca patted her on the shoulder and left the room, and Rachel sagged visibly once the woman had gone, unable to put up a front any longer.
She nearly fell asleep in the bath, the hot water doing its best to loosen the knots tightening her shoulder blades. When she finally got out of the bathroom, dripping wet and aching with both tiredness and sorrow, she fell across the bed, pulling the duvet across her, her hair still in a wet tangle, and didn’t stir until bright autumn sunshine was pouring through the windows whose shutters she’d forgotten to close.
In the morning light, everything seemed a little better. At least, Rachel felt more resolved. Last night she’d been blindsided by Mateo’s sudden change in attitude, the way he’d morphed from the charming, easy-going man she’d known into some parody of a cold, frosty stranger. She knew the pressures of his kingship weighed on him heavily, but he’d never taken that tone with her before, and Rachel had no intention of setting some sort of awful precedent now.
She showered and dressed, blow-dried her hair into artful waves and chose one of her new outfits to boost her confidence—a pair of wide-leg trousers and a cowl-necked topped in soft maroon jersey. Her engagement ring glinted as she moved, reminding her of the promises they’d already made to each other. They’d get through this. They were getting married tomorrow, after all.
Finding Mateo, however, was not as easy as Rachel hoped. After a buffet breakfast in the palace dining room by herself, she was whisked away by Monica, her personal assistant, to the final fitting of her wedding gown.
Rachel loved the pure simplicity of the white silk gown, with its edging of antique lace on the sleeves and hem, and the long veil of matching lace. When she wore it, she truly felt like a princess. A queen.
After the fitting, Monica met with her in the study Rachel was to call her own, going over the schedule of events on tomorrow’s big day. Rachel scanned down the list—wedding ceremony and coronation in the cathedral across the square, and then a walkabout through the plaza to greet well-wishers before returning to the palace for a wedding breakfast. Then a turn around the city in a horse and carriage before returning to the palace for a ball, and finally spending their wedding night there in a private suite. Considering Mateo’s responsibilities, there would be no honeymoon.
‘That looks like a very full day,’ Rachel said with a smile, trying to ignore the butterflies swarming in her middle. Even though she was getting a little bit used to being in the public eye, the thought of all those events made her feel dizzy with anxiety. What if she tripped and fell flat on her face? What if she was sick? Considering how nervous she was, she knew it was perfectly possible. She could utterly humiliate herself in front of thousands of people, not to mention those watching from their homes, since everything was to be broadcast live.
Don’t think about it, she instructed herself. When the times comes, you’ll just do it. You’ll have to.
She turned to Monica with as bright a smile as she could manage. ‘Do you know where the king is?’
* * *
The wind streamed by him, making his eyes water, as Mateo bent low over the horse and gave it its head. The world was a blur of sea, sand, and sky as the stallion raced over the dunes.
When he’d woken up that morning after a few hours of restless sleep, he’d known he needed to get out of the palace. Out of his own head. And riding one of the many horses in the royal stables was the perfect way to do it.
Mateo hadn’t been on a horse in years, but as soon as he’d settled himself atop Mesonyktio, the Greek word for midnight, he’d felt as if he were coming home. And feeling the world fall away, even if just for a few minutes, was a blessed and much-needed relief.