‘Your Majesty?’
She snapped herself from the daydream. Realised she’d been staring at him. The corners of his mouth tilted in a soft, knowing smile and her heart tripped a beat. Now a room full of eminent financial experts waited on her next words. Sworn to maintain confidentiality about the true state of Lauritania’s economy until some credible solutions could be seized upon in the hope of solving the country’s woes. They’d spent the day working through options, and here she was fantasising.
‘I suggest cutting parliamentary travel entitlements,’ she said, though it would cause a riot amongst parliamentarians. ‘Flying first class is a luxury they can forgo.’
Lise stifled a yawn, her eyes watering as she did. She needed coffee and a moment to herself. One where she might breathe without the weight of expectation crushing her. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps we could take a break. I’m sure everyone would like some time to stretch their legs, check their phones. We can get back to saving the country in twenty minutes. Some refreshments will be served outside.’
There was murmur of assent. People bowed or curtsied as they left through open glass doors onto a secluded patio, leaving her blissfully alone. She turned away from the garden view, to look at an imposing portrait on the wall. The past few days being watched over by a painting of Lauritania’s last and greatest Queen, Marie. Was it a deliberate decision to use this room? In the palace, rarely did anything happen by coincidence. Lise stared up at her great-great-grandmother, dressed in an exquisite, bejewelled gown. A monarch who’d ruled the country successfully for over seventy years. What advice would the woman have for Lise now, when her parents had given her none?
‘You look like her.’
The soft burr of Rafe’s voice whispered over her. She hadn’t heard him come into the room again, but he was close. The awareness of how near he stood shimmered down her spine.
She studied the Queen’s portrait. Marie’s expression distant, serene.
‘Which part?’
‘Her eyes.’ The same blue as her own, so lifelike it was as if they looked straight into the heart of her, almost like a judgement. A reminder to Lise that she must not fail here. Rafe moved to her side. ‘There’s a steel in them.’
‘Me? Steely?’ She shook her head. ‘No.’
He clasped his hands behind his back. ‘You’ve never been on the receiving end of your wrath.’
‘Neither have you.’
‘When you threatened to take my head or lock me in the dungeon—’ he raised a knowing brow and placed his hand to his chest ‘—I feared for my very existence.’
He seemed so earnest, yet his eyes glittered wickedly. She laughed. ‘I don’t believe that for a moment.’
Rafe turned to look at Marie’s portrait again, his gaze lost in it. ‘You might be surprised.’
‘What do you fear?’
His attention left the painting, all of it now directed at her as if peering deep into her soul. It was an uncomfortable sensation. The corner of his mouth kicked up, ‘Queen Marie has never been forgotten, and neither will you.’
There seemed to be such honesty in his words, but it was no answer to her question. ‘You think?’
He cocked his head. Fixed her with eyes that weren’t distant or serene, but hot and compelling. ‘I know.’
Heat whispered over Lise’s cheeks. She found it difficult to accept his praise, especially when he was a master of palace games. The gentle compliments she’d fallen for once, losing herself completely to his words. Though Albert had said similar things about her, and she trusted what he’d said...
‘I thought you’d be outside, mingling.’ She waved her hand towards the open doorway. The murmur of voices and clink of cups on saucers floated into the room. ‘With your adoring crowd. They like what you have to say.’
He had such command of everyone here. All the experts looked to him. Listened as he kept discussions on track, grabbed an odd idea before refashioning it into a brilliant solution. He was a true maverick. Watching his mind work was...
Thrilling.
When had she come to think of him this way, to rely on him? It seemed as natural as her next breath. He spread his arms wide and took a bow. ‘They’ll have enough pieces of me over the coming days. However I find the only person I wish to take from me, is you.’
It was impossible to catch her breath when he said things like that. The heat in her cheeks increased. ‘I’m not sure that’s a proper thing to say.’
‘I’m not really one for being proper. But for now, there are other things on my mind.’ He walked over towards a table in the corner, where a large pot of freshly brewed coffee stood. He poured some, added a lug of milk. One and a half sugars, exactly how she liked it. Rafe walked towards her holding out the cup. She accepted it and took a grateful sip. He’d asked how she took it only once. Every time since, each cup he’d made for her was perfect.
‘You look...tired,’ he said.
He wasn’t wrong. The long, lonely nights worrying about how to fix the disaster left by her family seeped into her bones till they ached as if they were going to splinter.
‘We’re keeping the same hours. I’ll be no more tired than you.’