People, like the prime minister, had counselled that it was time for Albert to retire. They’d suggested replacement cronies no doubt. But Albert wanted to continue with her, and Lise had no intention of losing her only other friend in this place.
‘You make a beautiful bride, ma’am.’
Her heartbeat raised a few notches at the thought of her upcoming wedding. Rafe, all six feet two inches of lean muscle and brooding presence, soon to be hers. It was as if a bird had trapped itself behind her ribs. She pressed her palm to her chest and took a few slow breaths.
He’d never be hers. He was a means to her end.
‘I’m not sure the designer agrees.’
‘If only it were a happier day for you.’ Albert clasped his hands behind his back. Looked at her in that enigmatic way of his that told her nothing but made her question everything. ‘It’s a courageous choice, ma’am.’
She laughed, a bitter, sharp sound with no amusement in it. There’d been nothing courageous about anything she’d done. Lise nibbled the inside of her mouth.
‘You used to call me Lise, once...’
Albert had always been there for her. Providing gentle advice and encouragement. Warm, where her parents’ approbation had been a cold wedge.
‘That’s before you became my Queen.’
‘And Annalise, when you were angry at me.’
‘Have I ever been angry at you, ma’am? I can’t recall,’ he said, though his mouth twitched in an almost smile.
‘When I took the crown before father’s state function.’ She’d wanted to try on those precious jewels. Back then, the certainty was they’d be her brother’s some day. Never hers. All the diamonds and gold and ermine too much temptation for a teenager. She’d stolen into her father’s rooms where it had sat in an ornate wooden travelling box. She’d discovered the crown was big, and heavy. That was when she’d dropped it...
Albert chuckled, his elegant grey moustache quivering. ‘No one noticed the mark, and the Crown jeweller repaired it.’
That was a secret they’d kept from the King, for everyone’s good, Albert had said at the time. She’d believed people were keeping secrets about her meetings with Rafe once. For whose good was that?
The telltale burn started behind her eyes once more. Would it ever stop? She tried to blink away the tears. Queens did not cry. Of that she was sure.
‘What do you need, ma’am?’ Albert’s voice was warm and kind. Almost her undoing.
‘I need to be just Lise, for a little while. Please.’
She glanced at the view from her private rooms. She’d always loved the vista from here. High on a hill above the capital, Morenberg, surrounded by the Alps she loved. The mountains where she felt truly at home. But today they loomed outside, as if judging her.
‘You’ll always be Lise to me. Even though I call you Your Majesty.’
She turned to him, still standing there, a picture of gravity and stoicism.
‘I don’t think I can do this.’
‘You were born to it.’
‘No one taught me the skills.’ Nobody thought about her much at all. Her brother was meant to take the throne and she was meant to do her duty, which she’d failed. Spectacularly. What if she’d simply agreed to marry Rafe when her father demanded it? She’d have been wedded off the same as now, and the rest of her family would be alive.
‘Some need to learn, and some have it here.’ Albert tapped the centre of his chest. ‘You’ve always cared about your people, Lise. No one needed to teach you that. Your instinct will carry you through any mistakes. The rest? I’m here to help.’
‘Which I never doubted.’
His lips tilted in a sad smile.
‘Have as much faith in yourself as you have in me and you’ll do well. Is there anything else you need?’
A way to escape? But there was none. The die had been cast weeks ago. Still, Lise gritted her teeth. She’d wanted to wait till after the official mourning period was over. Three months, that was all she’d asked for. Only a small delay. But no, her government had been clear.
You must secure the Crown.