CHAPTER TWELVE
Saturday, 04.37 a.m.
FELIPEWOKE, TENSION rippling through his body as he realised how many hours they’d lost. He needed time to stop. He didn’t want his valet arriving in an hour. He didn’t want to send her away. He wasn’t ready.
‘I fell asleep,’ he muttered. ‘Damn.’
She lifted her head from where it was nestled in the side of his neck and drowsily smiled. ‘You needed it. You have a big day ahead. You don’t want to be so tired you’re slurring your words in front of the world.’
He didn’t want to think about the world right now. But there was no stopping the reality speeding towards them.
‘Your fellow plane passengers are going on a tour at nine,’ he said, trying to lighten his own mood. ‘So I’m not totally wasting their precious time with my unreasonable detainment of them.’
Her ice-blue eyes softened. ‘A tour?’
‘I’ll have you know we got a one hundred per cent strike rate on the offer.’
‘I bet you did. I would’ve said yes to a tour like that.’
‘I’ll give you a private tour right now if you like,’ he said huskily. ‘The best Silvabon has to offer.’
Her eyebrows arched. ‘The best?’
‘The very best.’ He threw back the sheet and forced himself out of bed. ‘And just so you know, I’m never redecorating this room.’ He lifted his finger. ‘That viewing balcony stays. In fact, I can think of some enhancements.’
‘Enhancements?’ She laughed. ‘And are you going to impregnate your wife in front of an audience like the good old days?’
He shot her a look. ‘You know I’m not going to have a wife to impregnate.’
She shook her head disbelievingly.
‘Stop trying to marry me off,’ he said. ‘I’ll release most of the power the Crown currently has over the next few years. Then I’ll grow old and slowly become nothing more than a figurehead. After I’m gone this place will become a museum.’
‘It should never be a museum. It should be filled with life and footsteps and laughter.’ She slapped down the plans he’d taken so long to prepare. ‘Why not become a figurehead family, doing positive things for the country?’
Oh, she did still believe in fairy tales. ‘The personal cost is too great,’ he said honestly.
‘And your decision to remain alone isn’t a personal cost?’
‘It’s not for me.’ He smiled now. ‘I’ve known no different.’
She stared into his eyes. ‘Your children would know no different from the royal life you create for them.’
‘I’m never having...’ He stiffened. ‘I’m not doing that to them—being born into such a burden? That’s not fair.’
‘Yet that’s what happened to you and you’re still here and you even told me you love it. So why wouldn’t they?’
Because no one else had stayed. Because he couldn’t take the risk of their unhappiness.
‘Maybe if there was a solid support structure?’ Elsie offered tentatively. ‘Maybe, yeah, release some power so they were more free to do the work they’re passionate about? Maybe then it could be okay?’
‘It’s not that easy.’
‘Nothing great ever is. But wouldn’t it be worth trying? To have a family flourish in this crazy huge palace? How wonderful would that be...? Surely you could insist on more balance? Royals in other places seem to.’
Seem to was the thing, but protocol was ingrained and people were too complicated and couldn’t be stretched too far. He couldn’t do balanced—it wasn’t in his genes. They were all or nothing and he couldn’t put anyone else through it or ask them to make such sacrifice.
‘Real life isn’t that simple.’ He drew breath, desperate to end the fantasy she was tempting him with. ‘Come on, hurry up.’