Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

T HEY ATE brEAKFAST together and then Lyon gave Beau an extensive tour of the grounds. She kept waiting for him to foist her off on staff. To disappear somewhere, as he had when she'd first arrived last night. But he stayed by her side. She supposed it was so that everyone believed in their marriage as something more than an uncomfortable business arrangement. She could play along.

Happily, she did not feel the least bit panicked though everything was a bit overwhelming. But he had a very calming presence when they were out in the castle. He explained everything. Assuaged every anxiety about settling into a brand-new place without her even having to ask.

When it was time to get ready for the dinner, he introduced her to the team that would help her get ready. By name and position, so she knew exactly who to ask for anything.

The only thing she did not get a say in was the gown she was to wear. When she voiced some concerns about the strapless nature of it, she was assured that everything would be secured quite well.

No one said she didn't have a say, but it was clear she was not allowed to refuse . She would have been annoyed by that, but she was being poked and prodded and practically sewn into the beautiful dress and she didn't know how to access her anger with all that going on.

She was tired and a little achy and wondering how Zia had done this for years upon years. All this...physical rigmarole to look a certain way for a group of strangers. Events upon events where she had to smile and compliment and act the perfect princess.

All to protect Beau. Because even though Zia had been better at being the heir, she hadn't wanted it. Two silly, spoiled princesses she supposed, who wanted to be human beings more than some kind of emotionless figurehead.

But Zia had been blackmailed, essentially. Always working to protect Beau from whatever threats their father had leveled at her. And Beau had let Zia take the fall again and again.

Which was why she was here. Taking the final fall. And it wasn't so bad. She'd made her choices, and Lyon was... Well, she couldn't say he was nothing like Father, because she knew his kingdom mattered more to him than anything—if she hadn't gathered it from their correspondence, she would have fully understood it when he'd handed her that family biography. Family. Legacy. Tradition.

Yes, she was well versed in how rulers viewed all those things as paramount.

But at least Lyon offered some kindness along the way. Her father had never done that for her or her sister.

The door opened and Lyon stepped in, dressed crisply in a tux, his hair in perfect place. He looked every inch the handsome prince he was meant to be.

One of the women who'd done her makeup helped Beau up out of the chair.

"You look beautiful," Lyon said.

It was a rote compliment, but somehow Lyon delivered it with a note of gravity that made it feel real . She had never once felt beautiful . Never tried to feel that. She'd always considered it Zia's domain.

Lyon's eyes on her made a compliment she'd never craved suddenly feel...wonderful. And made her think about another night sharing his bedroom. Sharing his bed . What steps awaited her there.

Which was not at all what she should be thinking about.

"It's as if the tiara was made for her, don't you think, Your Highness?"

Lyon's gaze didn't move from Beau, but he nodded at the hairstylist. "It does indeed."

She didn't feel that way at all, but the fact Lyon's gaze stayed on her with such...intensity made her want it to be true. It made her want to stand a little taller and ensure all his compliments could be believed.

It was a very strange feeling, to want to impress someone. From a very young age she'd known that there would never be any impressing her parents, so she'd stopped trying. She hadn't worried overmuch what anyone thought of her because she had known her role. No role at all.

Now she had one.

Lyon took her hand, lifted it to his mouth and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. She wondered if she would ever know how to react to that in a way that didn't make her feel totally off-kilter. Like someone else. Someone who was not unwanted and hidden away.

"The announcement went well and will ensure that we have quite a few attendees at dinner tonight," Lyon said, leading her toward the door. "You will be introduced to some members of parliament. Some members of my extended family. After, we shall sit down and film our short video introducing you and our plans for the future."

"And just what are our plans for the future?"

"A responsible, trustworthy and charitable monarchy that will work with parliament rather than against it and usher Divio into an age of stability they have not seen for decades. A partnership with Lille, that will eventually lead to a union of our countries once you inherit the throne."

She hadn't been consulted in any of that, but then again, she had no actual stake in Divio except for that eventually she would be mother of the heir to the monarchy.

A legacy you are now a part of.

Lyon had said that. Not for an audience, but as if he'd actually meant it. "Will I be expected to speak?"

"My aides have prepared a few remarks for you, yes. After dinner, we will spend some time preparing before we film. It's not live, so you will have ample tries to get it right."

Beau tried not to let that worry her. If someone else had prepared the remarks, she could no doubt deliver them. In fact, that seemed preferable to a dinner meeting people. Having to come up with conversation in a crowd. That seemed far more the kind of recipe for panic.

But she knew the castle now, and she just assured herself if she started to feel the telltale signs—numb feelings in her limbs, tunnel vision, shortness of breath—she would excuse herself and go to the bathroom. Then she would hide.

Worst-case scenario, she'd claim food poisoning.

"You will be introduced to quite a few people this evening, so don't feel bad if you can't keep them all straight. We'll work on making certain you spend time with the people you should know."

"I have an excellent memory for names and faces. It usually only takes one meeting for me to remember people." Her memory had always been excellent. She learned things quite easily, and then they stuck with her whether she wanted them to or not. Her father hadn't cared for her ability to recall things that he'd rather she forgot. Or maybe he hadn't cared for her insistence and inability to let something wrong go.

She was going to have to work on that.

"Quite an asset," Lyon said, patting her arm.

When she glanced up at him, he was smiling. Like he meant it. She felt a strange sweep of...pride move through her. Like earning a compliment from him was exciting.

This was all so...strange. She'd known it would be, but so far it hadn't been strange in the ways she'd been expecting .

But Lyon led her downstairs and through a back hallway that would take them to the entrance to the ballroom where they'd be announced. Lyon's mother and a few staff members waited there.

One of them hurried over and said something in low tones to Lyon. Who nodded, but let Beau's arm go.

"I'll be right back." He left her standing there with the countess. Whose expression was...cool, at best.

Her gaze swept over Beau's dress. "You clean up quite nicely, Your Highness."

It didn't really feel like a compliment, considering she'd been "cleaned up" in her wedding dress last night. But Beau smiled all the same. "Thank you. Lyon's staff is superb. I'd certainly be lost if they weren't doing the work to...ah... clean me up ."

"I suppose, but could I make one little suggestion?" She leaned forward as if it was some great secret, whatever she wanted to impart.

Beau fought the impulse to lean away. She forced her smile to stay in place. "Of course."

"Perhaps next time you could wear a color more fitting of the royal family," the countess said in little more than a whisper.

Beau looked down at the navy blue. More fitting? She opened her mouth to ask what the countess meant, but Lyon had returned and took her arm and began leading her to the entrance to the ballroom.

Beau looked back at the countess, with the stray thought that perhaps she'd just misunderstood what the countess had said. What she meant.

But the look on the woman's face was clear. It reminded Beau of the evil stepmother in Cinderella . Which was so overdramatic she shook her head at herself. There was nothing evil about the countess. Perhaps she'd be a difficult mother-in-law, a judgmental one, but Beau could weather it.

It couldn't be worse than her father.

As long as she doesn't find out.

Beau forced that thought away and focused on the room in front of her. People milled about, then stilled as the announcement came over the sound system.

"May we present Crown Prince Lyon Traverso, and your new crown princess, Beaugonia Traverso?"

Lyon led her forward, when she would have stayed stuck in place. Because while the crowd wasn't huge , all eyes had turned toward them. And the countess's comment about her dress color was rattling around in her brain even though it made no sense.

She felt a little tickle at the back of her throat. Anxiety, but not panic. She could handle the anxiety. She'd researched all sorts of ways to deal with the overwhelm of social situations. The panic attacks came out of nowhere. There was little to no warning and often no direct cause.

Lyon took her around the room and introduced her to people. She made certain she looked each person in the eye, smiled and remembered every name and face. Because she could handle that. She was good at that.

No matter what color her dress was.

These types of dinners had always felt interminable, but Lyon found himself so fascinated watching Beau that time passed quickly.

She hadn't been lying about a good memory. She seemed to remember everyone by name and face. She smiled. She charmed.

Or at least she charmed him .

Though he'd known everything would work out with her, or he wouldn't have consented to this marriage. He refused to accept anything but exactly what he wanted, but he felt off-kilter by the fact she seemed...utterly perfect. He'd been expecting a challenge. Hard work. Success, yes, but not without bumps in the road.

He tried to remind himself it was early yet, but the entire dinner went absolutely perfectly. While there were still plenty of parliament members who talked down to him, who did their little political poking, hoping to find a weak spot, he could see on each of their faces they were intrigued by Beau.

He had no doubt the citizens would relish this royal marriage. Some would remain skeptical of his worth for a while longer yet, and understandably so, but once the children started coming, every year he would prove he was here to stay.

They said goodbye to the remaining guests, and Beau said goodbye to everyone by name, impressing each of them, he could tell. Where usually at the end of these types of dinners he felt tired, with a headache drumming at his temples, and his collar all but choking him, tonight he felt...energized.

When his mother came over to them, he beamed at her. "I think we shall count that down as quite the success."

"Don't go counting your chickens just yet," Mother warned, though with a smile. "This is only the very first step."

"But a very good first step. Now, Beau and I must go record our message to the country."

"Beau. How...cute."

But Lyon wasn't paying much attention to his mother. He was focused on the next steps. If the message was well-received, he and Beau would go away for a quick weekend "honeymoon." At least, that's what the public would consider it.

If not, he would have to have another meeting with his public relations team. Reevaluate and come up with a new plan.

It would be better and easier if tonight went well. Of course, that meant then being completely alone with Beau on a honeymoon. Which was...well, his feelings on it were complicated. Best not to consider it just yet.

"Good night, Mother," Lyon said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek, then leading Beau away. They would film their message in the library, and then it would be put online and broadcast as soon as his staff got everything edited to perfection.

As they took the stairs, Beau spoke. "I do not think your mother likes me," she said, in low tones only he could hear.

He frowned, looking down at her. Her expression was not...angry or hurt, exactly. More considering. "What gives you that idea?"

She shook her head and smiled up at him. "I'm sure I just need to get to know her."

"She has been wanting me to get married and solidify my place as leader for quite some time. I'm sure she's quite happy with the situation."

"Wanting you married doesn't mean she likes me . Especially if she liked Zia."

Lyon paused as they reached the top of the stairs. He looked at the woman who'd handled the entire evening with aplomb. She looked beautiful. The dark blue of the dress and glittering jewels she wore, along with the tiara, made her look just as a princess should. Elegant and sophisticated.

"You charmed an entire room of people this evening, Beau. Not just people. Politicians. Who want me to fail. You charmed them all the same. And you're about to charm most of the country, no doubt. I am very impressed."

The look of concern in her expression slowly changed. Her mouth curved, and a pretty pink appeared on her cheeks. She blushed quite a bit really. Did her cheeks heat with the color? He was tempted to touch, just to find out.

But they had appointments to keep, and it was best if he resisted his urges as much as possible. Control, always. "Mr. Filini, Alice—the head of my public relations team—and the videographer are waiting for us in the library."

She nodded and let him lead her to that room. Mr. Filini bowed. "Your Highnesses. We are ready for you whenever you are. We will have you seated here," Mr. Filini said, gesturing toward two grand chairs that had been placed in front of the fireplace. A fire crackled there, offering a warm glow to the room.

It would come across homey, traditional and steeped in ancient history—not the more modern history of a revolving door of his grandmother's brothers' families.

"Here are copies of the announcement we already went through, sir," Alice said, handing a folder to both Lyon and Beau. "Take your time looking it over, and alert Aldo when you are ready to film. He will get the lighting and whatnot ready while you do so."

"You don't have to memorize the remarks," Lyon told Beau as they opened their folders. "This is more of a guide, and my team will edit the video as needed. You'll simply follow my lead."

Beau looked over the paper, clearly concentrating while Aldo moved around them turning on lights, moving them this way and that, conferring with Alice as they looked at the screen. It no longer felt cozy, but Lyon knew they would ensure it still looked it on-screen.

"This is very well written," Beau said after a bit.

"I did the bulk of the work, though Alice smooths out my rough edges and we discuss anything that might be problematic. She wanted to be sure you had equal speaking time, so the audience gets the clear impression that this is a partnership. Of you and me. Of Divio and Lille."

Beau nodded. "Yes, that certainly comes across."

"Is there a problem?"

"No. Not at all. I'm just..." She shook her head. "It's strange to talk of Lille as its heir. I still don't feel like it, even though my father made it a reality." Her eyebrows drew together, as if she was thinking through some great problem. "They left without saying goodbye."

She hadn't mentioned her parents' quick departure, and he didn't think she really cared for her parents. Certainly not the way he cared for his mother or had for his grandmother. "Does that bother you?"

"I didn't think it did. It doesn't, exactly." She blew out a breath then fixed him with a smile he could tell was fake. "It doesn't matter. I'm ready when you are."

He wanted to poke more into that little flicker of vulnerability, but it didn't matter. They had pressing things to deal with. How she felt about her parents was really immaterial to him and his life. So he pushed away the desire to get to know her better, and focused on what was required of him.

He indicated to Aldo and Alice that they were ready, and then they began. Alice had them run through the message a few times, assuring both Lyon and Beau she would be able to effortlessly edit the best amalgamation of takes.

But it didn't matter how many times they ran through it, Beau was flawless. When Alice was satisfied, and Aldo was packing up, Lyon turned to his new bride.

"You were perfect. That was practically word for word."

Her smile bloomed. "I told you I have an excellent memory. And I am not prone to exaggeration about my positive attributes, I assure you."

"Perhaps you should exaggerate," he said, and it made her laugh. A low, throaty sound that had his thoughts traveling...elsewhere. Until Alice approached.

"That was perfect. We'll get to work right away and have it posted before the night is over. It will run on the local news program first thing in the morning."

" Grazie , Alice."

She curtseyed and then exited the library, leaving Lyon and Beau alone in the room. Cozy and firelit yet again, without a trace of video equipment. He found the strangest sensation of wanting to stay right here. Cozy and warm.

But it was getting late, and he would need to be up early in order to deal with the news response. He pushed himself to his feet, then held out a hand and helped Beau to hers.

Which had them standing close, toe-to-toe, really. She was short enough she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze.

He should have transferred her hand to his arm. He should have turned and led her to the door.

He counted the flecks of gold in her eyes instead. He let this strange, alluring sensation fill his lungs instead. No, he'd never allowed his reckless urges to win, but this was the first time he felt truly tested. They were alone in his favorite room in the castle, and the firelight made the skin of her shoulders gleam like gold treasure.

He wanted to know what they would feel like under his palms. What more than a brush of lips would feel like. He wanted, and he always denied wants this potent. It could lead nowhere good.

But she didn't move. She watched him with those direct, changeable eyes. She kept her hand in his. If he wasn't imagining it, she even leaned closer. Her breath was definitely coming quicker.

He should have handled this differently. He knew that, even as his mouth touched hers. They needed to approach this with some detachment. Some rules. Even if a physical relationship ended up being enjoyable, it needed to have boundaries.

Not stolen kisses in a dark library with only the fire in the hearth crackling. While there were much worse ways he could impinge his reputation, he didn't want to be like any of the crown princes who'd come before.

Beau melted into him though, before he could pull away. Slowly. Centimeter by centimeter. Small and soft in his arms. He tried to think of the necessary boundaries, but instead the only thing he seemed to be able to do was taste her. Sharp and sweet and addicting, so that for too many moments he took and took and took without regard to anything else.

Because she felt like a secret, this woman in his arms. One he needed to get to the bottom of. A mystery to be solved.

There was something dark and thrilling underneath everything she held on the surface. It pulled at him, spoke to him, whispered desires he couldn't indulge.

Couldn't.

When he pulled back, she blinked her eyes open. Cloudy and seemingly all green in this dim lighting. Her cheeks were pink, and her lips wet. Her breathing coming in short pants.

Something dark and dangerous swirled within him. A want he was very careful to keep deep within where it wouldn't get him into trouble.

She is your wife.

But this was the library. Definitely not the place for anything that gripped him. And everything that gripped him was...thorny. Complicated. Not as in control as he needed it to be. He had experienced lust before, identified it and set it aside.

Easily.

This did not feel in the least bit easy .

He cleared his throat, so that his voice would sound firm and in control. "I'm afraid your hair looks a bit tousled. And your...lipstick. There's a mirror over here if you want to fix up."

She didn't say anything for ticking moments. Just regarded him with those eyes he couldn't seem to read. "Perhaps it would be good for the staff to see me with mussed hair and lipstick. If the goal is to seem like a newlywed couple, that is."

He found himself nodding. She was right. It was smart.

But nothing about the situation he found himself in felt smart . Nothing about what was rattling around inside of him was in his control. There was no denying he was attracted to her, that he wanted her.

So instead of denying it , he needed to take control of it. It couldn't creep up on him. It couldn't take over so that he forgot everything he was, everything he needed to do. He would never be like the men who'd come before.

Step by step, he'd told her last night. And that was how he'd control this surprising desire.

Step by controlled step.