Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

B EAU HAD SLEPT well enough. She'd woken up the following morning in the middle of the bed, and like happened so often, Lyon was already up and gone. She lay there for a moment, not sure what to do with this strange tide of grief inside of her.

What was there to grieve? They had made amends. They would return to the castle today on the same page. Respectable, stable royals who respected one another, but didn't so much as have one lustful thought.

On a groan, she rolled out of bed and got dressed. When she shuffled out to the kitchen he was already dressed for the day and had made and cleaned up breakfast. Only a covered plate remained on the table, no doubt for her.

Because he was full of small gestures that no one had ever really given her, and she did not know how to reconcile this with a man who'd threaten to lock her away—when he didn't even know her full secret.

But he greeted her with a smile and "good morning." When she sat down to eat, he told her about some bird he'd watched fly around outside the window and surprised her with the idea that it was a good omen.

"You have never once struck me as the superstitious sort."

"Well, I only accept good superstitious."

It made her laugh. And she tried to hold on to that humor, that story as they drove back to the palace. The drive down was not quite as anxiety-inducing as the drive up, but she still didn't enjoy it.

They returned to the castle, a flurry of staff, a sit-down meal with Lyon's mother. Two days away without staff should not have had time to feel like normal, but suddenly all these people and space felt overwhelming.

But she knew her role. She smiled through dinner, ignored the countess's backhanded commentary about their vacation . She set out to be exactly the princess she had promised Lyon she would be.

Back then, she'd been doing it for Zia. Funny how it felt...different now. Like she was doing it for him .

When they retired to their rooms for bed, all the tension she'd felt from the night before seeped back into the silences between them. He wasn't angry, and she wasn't angry, but there was this gulf of not knowing how to be between them.

She wanted to reach out to him. Even if just for a hug. It could be something platonic. Just the feeling they...they...

But he took a gentle sidestep. "I think we should...wait."

"Wait?"

"It is possible you are already pregnant. We should wait to see if that is so."

Every time he said pregnant , she had a strange pang deep in her chest. The idea of already growing a child filled her with...a twist of so many different emotions. There was a deep yearning she really hadn't known was there until Zia had become pregnant. Then she'd started corresponding with Lyon about taking Zia's place and he'd made it clear he needed heirs.

She'd started to think of what it meant to be a mother. To care for someone else and show them love in the way her parents never had. She wanted that.

The idea of love was also causing strange pangs these days, because when she looked at Lyon, even not wanting to wait to see if it was so, she wanted to give him what he wanted. She wanted to find a way to make him happy.

So she hoped she was pregnant. For him just as much as for herself. But she'd also read enough books to know that not everyone got pregnant right away. Though Zia had with Cristhian, so maybe...

But what if she wasn't? They still needed heirs.

And he stood there, distance between them, hands behind his back. Stiff and uncomfortable but set in this decision he'd made. All on his own.

"And if I'm not?"

"Then we will develop a schedule."

"A schedule?"

His mouth firmed, but he didn't get angry. He stayed perfectly calm. If a little sarcastic. "Do I need to explain what a schedule is?"

"No." She looked away, feeling small. Angry she'd let something twist inside of her so that she allowed someone to make her feel small. She had promised herself she'd left that behind when she'd escaped her father's grip.

And now she wasn't just allowing it to happen, she was...wanting to find some way to take that stiffness away that would make him happy . That would bring back the ease they'd had around each other.

Not just the sex, but the comradery. The feeling there wasn't some invisible box around the both of them.

"There are times when a woman is more...susceptible to getting pregnant, are there not?" Lyon said, when she couldn't come up with any words. "We will develop a schedule based on the best possible time."

She found herself nodding along even though the idea sounded...terrible. A schedule . For sex? When they enjoyed sex with one another?

She had promised him she understood. She had promised to be the princess he needed. If that meant waiting and schedules... Did it really matter or change anything? It was better than being locked away.

So days passed, and Beau settled into a schedule as crown princess of Divio. She settled into a life. She dined with Lyon, and sometimes the countess. She got to know all the different staff members, started developing projects with her own assistant. She talked to Zia almost every day, even video calling into Zia and Cristhian's wedding.

She had watched over her phone as Cristhian and Zia had made vows to one another, far away in Cristhian's place close to Germany. She had seen the love shine between them even on a small phone screen and had been overjoyed her sister had found it.

Overjoyed they had both found their freedoms. Because this was better than the life she'd had in Lille. And if every day she spent more time convincing herself of that...well, it was better.

Even if every night she slid into bed with her husband, and he kept his back to her. Even if he never so much as held her hand in public. He was always courteous and kind. He made sure the books she wanted were ordered, the meals she liked served. They talked about books. He read things she suggested and vice versa.

They had developed a friendship. It was better than her wildest dreams of what her life might look like when she'd been locked in her room, the threat of an institution hanging over her head.

It was better .

For two weeks she convinced herself of that, and then one afternoon when it became clear that she wasn't pregnant, she finally realized the truth.

She was miserable.

"Your Highness?"

Lyon looked from the window to Mr. Filini, who had been talking to him about the upcoming parliamentary dinner. Lyon wasn't sure when his thoughts had strayed. What information he'd missed because he'd been brooding about Beau.

It was becoming frustratingly common. He couldn't focus. He couldn't stay in his present moment. Every day he became...more and more uncomfortable.

It wasn't even just the wanting her. Which he still did. With a fire that never truly seemed to go away. But he controlled it. Resisted it. He could almost convince himself he'd conquered it.

But he was worried about Beau, and he didn't even understand why. Everything was just as it should be. Just as they'd agreed.

They'd been back at the castle for nearly two weeks now. It should feel like normal.

But no matter how he tried to ignore it, he missed the way they'd been at the chalet. Even in turmoil that had at least been...real. It hadn't felt like playacting.

But playacting was better than failing everything he'd set out to do. So there was that. Now he just needed to figure out how to resist thoughts of her, what she might doing, what was going on in that fascinating brain of hers when he needed to be focused on the task of ruling a kingdom.

"A list of what you still need to sign off on will be in your email within the hour, sir," Mr. Filini said.

"Thank you," Lyon said. Maybe he hadn't been focusing well, but nothing had slipped through the cracks yet. Everything was going on just as it should. Parliamentary business addressed. The public response to Beau was increasingly positive.

Everything was going just as it should.

And damn it, he couldn't relax.

Perhaps he should talk to Beau. Point-blank ask her what was wrong. Would she stop taking up so much of his brain space if he did? He could fix whatever problem was vexing her, and then it wouldn't feel like his tie and all those old anxieties were choking him by the end of every day.

Unless it was...the lack of intimacy that troubled her. But she'd said she understood that. She'd apologized for not initially understanding.

They needed to have a conversation. There was no getting around it. Hadn't he complained of her books avoiding them? Well, he was not a coward. He would ask. She would tell him. He would fix it.

The end.

He strode up to their rooms. She was not in the sitting room or the bedroom, but before he could call out for her, she stepped out of the bathroom.

When she saw him, she smiled, but he could tell she had been crying. He was almost certain of it. Her eyes were red and puffy. He'd never seen her in such a state. His entire being simply...bottomed out.

He strode forward, some horrible feeling gripping him. Like if she wasn't okay, nothing would be. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, all in all." She tried to keep the smile, but it faltered. "I am... I am not pregnant. Not a tragedy, of course. Just..."

"Ah." It was the most insipid thing to say, but he had no words for this. He wanted to hug her close and take that pain she was trying to hide away, but he couldn't allow himself that.

It wasn't a tragedy, she was right, but she clearly was saddened by it, and he wanted to fix it. But there was no...fixing. Not in the moment.

He should be disappointed as well. But for a soaring, blinding moment all he could think was that he would be able to touch her again. He would have the opportunity to stop this deep, rending pain at keeping his distance and have her in his arms. It would be his royal duty once more.

He had been hoping for an heir, or so he told himself. But in this moment he realized what he'd really wanted was the excuse to touch her again.

Because deep down he was selfish. He was a product of the men who'd come before. Driven by only his own wants.

"I have read up on the subject," she continued, moving slightly away from him. "And it's quite commonplace for it to take up to a year even if both parties are perfectly healthy. Particularly for the first child." She peered out the window as if something of great interest existed out there beyond the mountains that always lurked in the distance.

"Yes, that makes sense." Why did he sound so damn stiff?

"In happy news, Zia has had her twins." Her smile was genuine, maybe, but it trembled at the edges. "I should like to plan my visit."

She had told him of Zia's marriage to Cristhian Sterling a few days ago, and that Zia was expecting to have her children any day, and that Beau would need to visit and meet her niece and nephew.

"Of course. I'm afraid we'll need to make it through the parliamentary dinner before you can go, though."

She nodded. "That's all right. I'm sure Zia would like a few days to settle in with her new family."

"We shall visit together," he said, wanting to offer some kind of...something. He didn't have the words, but maybe an action would get across what he was feeling.

"You could get away from Divio?" she asked. Almost like she didn't believe him. But at the same time, he saw something in her expression he hadn't seen in a while. A kind of openness. Maybe even...hope.

"I may not be able to do it right away, but I'll find a few days. It will be a good look for us. Proof that there are no hard feelings."

Something in her expression shuttered. That blank that was seeping into his bones like worry and fear. An old anxiety that had him loosening his tie in spite of himself.

"Are there no hard feelings?" she asked at length, not meeting his gaze.

He blinked. He had not thought of Zia in ages. Why would he think of her when there was Beau? She occupied nearly all of his thoughts whether he wanted her to or not. "None."

Beau let out a great sigh, her gaze back on the window, making her eyes fairly glow green. Her voice was rough when she spoke. "She would have made you a better wife."

He heard the anguish in that, saw it in her slumped shoulders. He did not understand where any of this had come from, but he could hardly...stand it. He moved over to her, and carefully, lightly touched her chin, nudging it gently up so she would have to look at him.

"You are the best wife I could ask for." Which was just the most basic truth. She tested him, yes, but in all other ways she was better than he could have imagined. She handled the staff perfectly. She didn't wither under his mother's ridiculous commentary. She understood him, and it was...different than everyone else.

His mother understood him, but she depended on him. To uphold the name, the kingdom, her bloodline. Beau understood him to...support him. She had acknowledged his place could be difficult. She...

Didn't she understand that? Apparently not because her eyebrows drew together and she studied him with eyes still shiny from her earlier tears.

He hoped they were her earlier tears.

Then she looked away, pulling her chin away from his touch. "Would it look unseemly if I missed dinner tonight?"

Lyon had no idea how to fix this. Except to give her whatever she wanted that he was able. This was one of those things.

"No, of course not. There are no events scheduled. I'll make sure a meal is brought up."

She nodded.

More of that oppressive silence he didn't know what to do with, so he made a move to leave. Not sure why that felt so dissatisfactory.

"Lyon?"

He stopped, turning back to face her, even if she wasn't looking at him.

"Do I make you happy?"

Happy was not what he felt. Happy seemed simple, and nothing about what she did to him, what was rioting through him was happy . But it was...good. Positive. She was a positive in his life. So he nodded. "Yes, Beau. Very happy."

Her mouth curved then. He could hardly call it a smile, but it was better than bleak and blank and all the ways it had felt like she was withering before his eyes.

"All right then," she said with a nod. "If you'll have Mr. Filini forward me a copy of the etiquette document guests receive for the parliamentary dinner, I'll go over it with my dinner."

"You have the one for the crown princess."

"Yes, but I'd like to understand what's expected of the guests as well. What they see, so I can make sure I can put them at ease in whatever ways I can."

"You don't have to do all that."

"I'd like to," she said firmly.

"All right. Well. It will be done then."

"Excellent."

Then they stared at each other. She said nothing. He didn't have the first clue what to say. So...he left.