CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Saturday, 11.01 a.m.
ITWASLESSthan an hour until the coronation procession and Felipe needed a smack in the head to pull back his focus. Do not think about Elsie. He’d showered, shaved, and dressed entirely on automatic. Do not dream about Elsie. He had to concentrate on his country and he was finally almost ready. Do not ache for Elsie.
‘Sir—’
‘I said I didn’t want to be interrupted.’ He turned to glare at the man who’d walked in unannounced. But Garcia was grey and sweating.
Felipe’s blood chilled. ‘What is it?’
He held out his hand for the tablet Garcia was holding. It took two seconds to scan the headline and a summary of ‘facts’.
Fraudster family breaches palace.
Acid burned the back of his throat. He didn’t want her reading this rubbish.
‘Someone noticed her last night,’ Garcia muttered nervously.
The article shifted the focus from the coronation to his vulnerable stepsister. To Elsie. The threat of something this salacious overshadowing the coronation? His grandfather would be rolling in the family crypt. But his grandfather was dead. And Elsie?
Everything she’d not wanted had been dug up and it would destroy her.
Hehad done this. By not staying away—not curbing his urges—he’d failed to protect both Amalia and Elsie. And how did he recover this now? There was no stopping what people would say. They could only shield themselves—try not to read it? Run away from it?
Impossible.
Rage gripped him. He never should have touched her. Never invited her into his private chambers. She should never have to pay the price for his greed.
‘They haven’t published it yet,’ Garcia said. ‘They’re asking for exclusive comment before they do.’
Protocol was never to comment on media stories—to ‘rise above it’, to pretend it wasn’t happening. Like the mystery of his father’s disappearance.
Don’t explain. Suppress emotion. Curiosity will die and we will all carry on.
But it didn’t die.
King Javier had insisted it would all be smoothed over by a single abdication announcement weeks after the fact. No one had fronted to answer questions... Only the questions hadn’t eased, they had been rehashed every day for weeks until finally his grandfather had fed them Felipe’s investiture. Creating a great ‘celebration of a new heir!’ Seventeen and alone, Felipe had walked into the cathedral in front of his entire country...
But he’d been okay. He’d had the protection of the palace walls. He’d had the sea to dive deep into. And of course there were times when it was hard but he loved his place here.
But his father had only been okay because he’d gone to live a quiet life in Canada where he hadn’t seen the drama mentioned every few months in the Silvabon press. His mother, too, had gone—to a quiet existence on an outer island. And the judgement had never really gone away. It never would.
Felipe refused to let anyone else become the target. He hoped to ensure Amalia would be okay by getting her to a secluded school. But Elsie?
If she escaped the country quickly they might not be able to track her down. Which meant they needed to bring her departure forward. She couldn’t wait for that flight this afternoon. She certainly couldn’t travel with all those people if this story had broken—they’d stare, harass, worse. Feeling afraid? Being judged? This was her nightmare. Her life would be wrecked again, this time because of him. He had to buy her time. Then he’d come up with a decoy. He had no idea what yet, but he’d think of something.
‘Tell them if they print it I’ll sue,’ he said roughly.
‘Pardon?’
‘Threaten them. They’ll hold it at least until we get her out of here.’
He scrolled down past the first paragraph. There was a video embedded in the article. He didn’t have to click on it—it played automatically.
Stop watching.
He couldn’t. Even as guilt swallowed him.