Andres put his hand on her shoulder and she straightened. “It is time for us to leave soon.”
“Okay.”
As they turned to go, one of the teachers rushed to them. “Prince Andres,” she said. “I just wanted to thank you for coming. And this is Princess Zara?”
Zara was astonished that this woman knew her name. But then, she supposed her name might have been mentioned in the media since the luncheon yesterday.
“Yes,” Andres said, wrapping his arm around her waist, “my fiancée.”
“You are so good with the children, Princess,” the woman said.
“I like children,” Zara returned.
“Well, if you ever find yourself in need of ways to fill your time, we could always use volunteers in the classroom. People to come and read books, or help with choir.”
“I would love to,” Zara said. How long had it been since anyone needed her? Since anyone thought she was good at something and wanted to put those skills to use?
It had always been blood. Always been title. This was different, and it was exhilarating. This was being where she belonged, the pieces of herself, scattered on the wind for so many years, finally coming to rest.
Like coming to the end of a long walk in the wilderness, making it to the summit and finally seeing what she’d been traveling toward all her life. Her destiny, laid out before her.
A princess in a palace, with her prince at her side.
“We will put Zara’s assistant in touch with you,” Andres said.
“I’m Julia Shuler,” the woman offered. “If you need to get hold of me.”
“Thank you, Julia. I’m looking forward to coordinating something.”
“We must go, Princess. We have a reservation.”
Zara looked up at Andres. “For what?”
“For that dinner I owe you.”
* * *
The restaurant was beautiful, situated at the top of a hill overlooking the glittering city below. Zara had never been to such a fine place, the palace in Tirimia excluded. She had been spoiled by lovely food since coming here, but somehow this felt different. Perhaps because they were making a public showing, together. Perhaps because she had been fashioned into a woman who looked as though she belonged on Andres’s arm.
Perhaps just because she was excited. She was out to dinner with Andres. It was, for all intents and purposes, her first date.
She could scarcely think back to the woman she had been yesterday. The one who had tried to sabotage their arrangement by making a spectacle during the luncheon. She felt different now. Being with him had changed something. It had changed her.
She lifted the glass of wine to her lips, trying to orient herself to what was happening. To the fact that she was here. Sitting across from the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life, sipping on the most marvelous drink she’d ever had. She was warm. She was wearing beautiful clothes. There was a teacher who wanted to use her skills.
She was part of the royal family.
“You don’t have to volunteer for the schools if you don’t want to,” Andres said, taking a sip of his own wine.
“But I want to,” she said. “I told you, I want to find out what I’m good at. What I want to do. I was a younger daughter and I imagine that even if I had stayed in Tirimia, this is the sort of thing I would have done. And maybe I can figure out some of the specific needs of the people here if I’m working with them on such a close level. There might be some other things I could arrange. Charities.” She smiled. “I enjoyed the kids back in the encampment I lived in. They didn’t put so much distance between themselves and me. I really do love children.”
“That’s good.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Why is that good?”
“Because we will have children. We may yet have one on the way already, as careless as we’ve been.”
Her heart stalled, then slammed into her chest. “Oh.” Of course. They had taken no precautions against pregnancy. She had not thought of that until now. She waited to feel angry. To feel sad. She didn’t. The thought of a baby—Andres’s baby—only filled her with more of that same warmth from earlier.
They really would be a family. She had been alone for so long, and now she felt she was spoiled with company. A man who would be her husband, who would share her bed. A child. Just for a moment she allowed herself to be nothing more than completely happy. Filled with joy, filled with anticipation.