“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I murmur, adding as inspiration strikes, “What about your mother? Maybe she should do the weekly address. It would make more sense to learn Gallantian history and customs from someone who’s actually Gallantian by birth, don’t you think?”
“Possibly, but that’s a non-starter, I’m afraid,” he says with a wink. “My mother’s even more of a pain in the ass than I am.”
Despite the stress tightening my shoulders, I smile. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“You don’t think I’m a pain in the ass?” he asks, arching a roguish brow.
“Oh, I’m sure you can be,” I tease. “I’ve seen some things on your social media that absolutely bring your common sense into question.”
“Like what?” he prompts, looking amused. “The cliff diving was completely safe. I watched half a dozen people jump before I took the plunge.”
“What if you’d slipped?”
“I never slip,” he says, his eyes still dancing.
“Everyone slips sometimes.”
“True, but that’s no way to live, even for a prince.” He bites his lip before he adds, “So you’ve been stalking me on social media? That hardly seems fair, Elizabeth, when you’ve given me nothing to stalk at all. The most recent picture of you I could find online was four years old.”
“You’re welcome,” I shoot back.
“For what?” he asks with a laugh.
“For the opportunity to form an opinion of me based on who I really am instead of a curated social media presence.” I motion toward the portraits of noble Gallantians lining the hallway leading to the rear of the castle. “But returning to the subject at hand, your mother seems like a well-spoken and highly accomplished woman. I’m sure she’d do a lovely job with the weekly address.”
“She is highly accomplished,” he agrees. “That’s the problem. She’s a heart surgeon who has zero interest in ruling a country. That’s why she was sworn in as Queen Regent before grandfather passed instead of Queen. She’s just keeping the seat warm until I officially take over. If it were up to her to continue the monarchy, I’m afraid that would be the end of royal rule here.”
My brows shoot up my forehead. “Really?” I chew on the thought for a beat before I ask, “Would that be such a bad thing?”
I’m treading on shaky ground—I don’t know many real royals, but the ones I do would consider abdicating their thrones a fate worse than death. Still, I can’t resist posing the question. The Von Bern royal family deciding to step down wouldn’t solve my family’s money problems, but it would set Lizzy free, which is still priceless in my book.
“In the long run, I would hope not,” Andrew says, not seeming offended. “I like to think my people would hammer out a democracy that works for everyone. But in my experience, that isn’t always the case. Transitions of power can go awry pretty quickly. And even when they go well, there are growing pains.” He opens a heavy wooden door, holding it for me before leading the way down another hallway. I start to worry I’ll never find my way back to my room without a guide. This castle makes my home look like a dollhouse in comparison.
“I’d like to spare my people all that for at least one more generation,” Andrew continues. “I’m not a perfect specimen, by any means, but since childhood, I’ve been studying to be a fair and just ruler. I truly want to serve the people of my country, from richest to poorest and everyone in between. I’m sure I’ll piss off a few souls along the way, but I’m going to do my best to find compromises that will bring the most good to the most people.”
I nod, unable to find fault with his answer. “That’s all you can do. Approach the job from a place of service and stay committed to making compassionate choices.”
He glances my way with that inscrutable look again. “I agree.” He’s quiet for a moment, and when he speaks, his voice is stiffer than it was before. “Hopefully my son or daughter will feel up to the job when it’s their time to serve. But if not, at least I will have done all that I personally could for my country.”
His son or daughter…
His sudden formality makes me wonder… “So do you want children?” I ask. “Really want them? Or is it something you feel obligated to do in order to secure the line of succession?”
Lizzy has always wanted babies—lots of babies to cuddle and spoil and love with the kind of selfless devotion we never experienced as children. I honestly think she wants babies more than she wants a husband.
But I doubt she’d be thrilled about having babies with a man who doesn’t want to love them as much as she does.
“That’s a heavy question.” Andrew stops beside me on the carpet, a few feet short of a pair of gilded glass doors leading out to a section of the castle grounds I haven’t seen before.