She would. Andres couldn’t argue with that. More than that...he wanted it. This time with her had been beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He hadn’t wanted to connect with anyone like this in longer than he could remember.
But Zara...he took joy in caring for her. Giving to her. That was new too. Wanting to give to someone rather than simply take all he could.
The desperation he felt, so sudden, so intense, to cling to her nearly brought him to his knees.
It reminded him of every other time he’d wanted something, only to make a mess of it.
As he would do with Zara.
He pushed the thought away. He had no choice but to succeed with her. But that didn’t mean surrendering to this...thing, this emotion that rioted through his chest.
They could work together. They could be partners. It didn’t have to be like this.
He would explain it to her. Tonight, after the ball, he would explain to her how it would be. A partnership. No feelings. Nothing so unstable, nothing so powerful.
A commitment, a decision, he could control. But he had proved to himself over and over that his heart was unreliable.
He took a breath and looked at Kairos. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, turning away from his brother, “my fiancée is waiting for me. And she isn’t mad at me.”
“Give it time. And, Andres...”
“What?”
“If you leave during my speech tonight I will be unhappy with you.”
“Then make it interesting.”
* * *
Tonight, she was wearing the pink gown. That fluffy confection that had been fitted to her the first day she was here in the palace. Her dark hair had been tamed into a sleek bun, a tiara resting on her head.
It was so foreign. Yet familiar at the same time. This had been her life once. Parties, beautiful dresses, crowns. She had been royalty in the palace and Tirimia. In her daily life she had only ever felt the distance of royalty, and none of the benefits.
This was different. Tonight, she would stand with the entire royal family. Part of something. Not apart from something. Tonight, Kairos would be announcing that she and Andres were getting married after the Christmas service tomorrow morning, in the old church down in the city.
The most beautiful dress had been created for her. Zara could scarcely believe it had been made up so quickly. It glittered like the snow that fell here in Petras. Lace with little glass beads stitched all over it.
She couldn’t think of anything more beautiful to wear while becoming Andres’s wife. And she couldn’t think of anything more beautiful to wear tonight for when the country found out she was becoming his wife.
And all of it mattered more because she had realized something over the course of the past few days spent in his penthouse. She loved him.
She had no experience of love, that much was true. She didn’t even remember what it felt like to be loved by a family. But that was why she knew what this was. She imagined you never appreciated food more than you did when getting it after you’d been starving. That everything tasted better, each bite more precious, worthy of savoring. You didn’t need to have experience of feasts to understand that you were dining at an exquisite table.
She knew. Knew that this was everything she’d been waiting for.
She’d thought of it as home the other day. Thought of him as home. Had thought of this as destiny, the fulfillment of the promise of her royal birth. She could see now it was more than that. The feeling people talked about when they discussed their homes was love. And as much as you could love a place, she loved a person so much more.
Andres.
Her first foray out of the woods. Her first real human connection, in so long.
Being with him was more healing than time or distance. Being with him, choosing him, forced her to realize that while the clan had certainly been distant, she had been distant, as well.
It wasn’t until Andres that she had reached out.
“Are you ready?”
She turned and saw Andres standing there, looking perfect in an expertly tailored tux. A striking black jacket, a matching bow tie and a crisp white shirt. He was clean shaven, his dark hair brushed off his forehead. He looked less rakish than usual, but he was as devastatingly sexy as ever.
He was going to be her husband. He really was hers, to keep. The very idea made her giddy down to her bones.