13. Xander

CHAPTER 13

XANDER

“ I have to go to a meeting,” I say, though I make no move to climb out of bed.

Amy laughs and rolls over, grabbing my pillow and hugging it to her as she closes her eyes. “You should go. They’re going to want to talk about the interview, along with the pictures that you know people were taking in town yesterday.”

“Which sounds like yet another reason to stay in bed.”

Getting up, I stretch before heading for the closet, the towel from my shower earlier still draped over the back of the door. Trying to get dressed was a little difficult when Amy seemed to prefer the idea of sending my clothing sailing back to the floor.

I grab some slacks and a black polo shirt, hauling them on over my boxers. After rooting through the drawers for some socks and a belt, I finish getting dressed and step back into the main bedroom.

Amy has the silk sheet gathered against her, the deep blue fabric making her hair glow like flames flickering against the night. “Have fun at the meeting.”

I pause, still staring at her. “I think you should start staying in here with me. I could take the couch if you want, but if it gets out of the castle that we still have different chambers, people are going to ask questions.”

“I thought it was normal for kings and queens to have separate chambers.”

Shrugging, I grab my watch from the nightstand and put it on. “Maybe for some of them, but I don’t want to be the kind of man who spends every night away from my wife. It might work for some people, but I enjoy connecting with you at the end of a long day.”

“And if I asked you to sleep on the couch or to take turns on the couch, you would be okay with that?”

I nod. “Whatever you feel is best. I don’t want to push this too far, and despite recent events, I know this is just business between the two of us.”

Except it doesn’t feel like just business anymore.

There’s no way that I’m going to tell her that, though. Not when this arrangement is so new.

“Sure, I’ll move into your chambers,” Amy says, a teasing smile on her face as she gets out of bed with the sheet wrapped around her, heading over to the books on the mantel above the fireplace. “But right now, I think I’m going to stay here and read before Daphne hunts me down.”

“You have a good time with that.” I fight the urge to walk over and kiss her before leaving, instead heading for the door.

What I feel for her could just be a combination of fascination and lust. She treats me like a normal human instead of someone ruling over a country.

She doesn’t seem to care about the fame or the fortune, but I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know her well. We’ve only known each other for a couple weeks.

And right now, there are more important things to deal with than what could be the beginning of a relationship.

Atticus sighs and leans forward, his palm hitting the conference table. “I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere with this today, Jorge. You’re driving everyone insane.”

Jorge glares at him. “I spoke to Daphne this morning. She said that Amy was coming along in her etiquette lessons, which is in direct contrast to the disaster that was the Katastinia Tonight interview. She needs to get it together.”

I glower at him as the rest of the room falls silent. “I already told you that what happened at the interview wasn’t her fault. I don’t know who Taryn Doukas thinks she is, but turning to non-approved questions based on vicious lies spread by the media would throw anyone off, especially someone who is new to this world.”

“You want to protect her, and I understand that,” Jorge says, his voice soft and slow like he’s trying to placate a child.

“As you should too!” I stand, hands slamming on the table to cut him off as his mouth opens again. “Your job is to protect both the interests of the people and the interests of the monarchy. You’re going to find out who gave Taryn those stories before she went on, and then you’re going to source who at the station gave her the green light to go off script.”

Jorge’s face becomes pinched, his mouth disappearing into a barely visible line. “I don’t think you understand.”

“No, I do understand.”

Atticus groans, waving to the rest of the council. “You can leave. This will be a core council meeting only.”

The rest of the provincial representatives stand up and leave the room, leaving me with Jorge and Atticus.

Jorge rounds on Atticus immediately. “How can you sit here and help defend him when you know that this is going to be a disaster?”

“You were the one that suggested it in the first place.” Atticus reaches for the tablet in the center of the room, nodding to the image the projector is casting on the whiteboard. “Look at these.”

Atticus pulls up a search of my name and Amy’s. Though there are a few nasty articles about her only wanting my money, there are more that compliment the two of us together.

Most of them seem to be in favor of our engagement.

I give Jorge a smug smirk and sit down. “Just because Amy isn’t the woman you would’ve chosen doesn’t mean that she’s the wrong person for the country.”

Beyond the smugness, there’s still hair that stands on the back of my neck the more I look at the pictures of the two of us.

Some of them are from brief outings in the afternoon where we were walking on the private beach or through the small area of forest at the back of the castle.

Most of them were taken in moments I believed to be private.

Too many of the pictures showcase the way I look at her, and I wonder if it’s as obvious to anyone else.

We’re just trying to sell the relationship to the media. My family must believe it’s real.

Atticus sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “While Amy might need a little more polishing, I don’t think we want to scrub away her personality. I was in town late last night after the two of you left, and all I heard were people singing her praise. The farmers love her.”

“I should hope so. I carried home three bags of their produce. And I know that after her day’s etiquette lessons are done, she plans to spend the afternoon baking.”

Somehow yesterday, she managed to get Beatriz to hand over an old family recipe for little custard cakes with bourbon-glazed strawberries on top.

My stomach growls just thinking about them.

Jorge claps his hands together once, drawing my attention. “You need to focus. This isn’t another situation that you can just coast through and hope that everything will be fine.”

The jab strikes exactly where he wanted it to.

It’s a subtle reminder that I’m not the king the country wanted. My family never planned for me to be on the throne beyond Yorgos dying before his first child was of age.

Which reminds me.

I look between the pair of them. “Enough about me and Amy. I want to talk about the future of the monarchy and all that entails.”

Jorge’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know you were thinking of having children so soon. Of course, she has to give you an heir before the divorce.”

“No, she doesn’t. That wasn’t part of the contract, and I won’t force it to be either.” I grab the tablet and open a file that I sent along this morning. “I want to revise the line of succession. No more first male heir. The crown is going to pass to the monarch’s eldest child, regardless of gender.”

“Not going to happen.” Jorge shakes his head, gray hair scattering like leaves on the breeze. “You can’t just change the line of succession.”

“Why not? As of my coronation, I’m king, and I believe that means I can do what I want.” I gesture to the file on the screen. “This is the outdated line of succession policy. You both know that Yorgos was planning on addressing this as well.”

The color drains from Jorge’s face like he didn’t anticipate me knowing about the proposed policy change. “We weren’t truly considering that.”

“Well, now we are.” I get up, pacing to the windows and looking out over the castle grounds.

Amy is out at the stables with Daphne, and by the looks of things, Daphne is trying to teach her how to ride.

My heart hammers through my chest when Amy throws her head back laughing as she manages to get on the horse.

Turning from the window, I give Jorge a stern look. “I’m not going to be met with resistance on this. We can address it with the council, but this isn’t me asking for permission. I will be changing the line of succession, and there’s nothing else to say about the matter.”

Atticus strokes a hand over his jaw. “I think it’s a good thing, but I think we need to address it in the right way. You know that the council is a bunch of older people stuck in their ways.”

He says the last part with a pointed glance at Jorge, and I struggle to hold back a grin.

I know that the most difficult part of passing the policy change is going to be Jorge. He may not have been this difficult to deal with if Yorgos was still alive, but he seems hellbent on making everything I do an uphill battle.

And in a way, I understand.

I wasn’t the king the country wanted.

When I was born, I was the spare to my brother. If anything happened to him, that was when I would take the throne. If he didn’t want to speak at an event, it was left to me.

Although, Yorgos liked the events. He loved being at the center of it all and serving his people in whatever way he could.

I was left to my own devices, and now that’s coming back to bite me.

Jorge rises from his chair and begins pacing from one side of the room to the other. “I don’t know how you think this is going to go over. The Ariti family has ruled over Katastinia for almost a millennium. You want to end that by changing the line of succession?”

“I want to prolong that. Right now, when there isn’t a male born into the current monarch’s family, he has to pass it to the next relative. If I die without having a son, the monarchy passes to Stavros, who we can all agree would see this country burn to the ground for his own self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Atticus nods. “Dad has plans for when he takes the throne since he thinks that you’re going to abdicate, and none of them are going to move Katastinia forward with the times.”

“Exactly,” I say. “Now, if I had a daughter, but the throne couldn’t go to her, we would still be looking at Stavros taking the throne. Which isn’t going to happen.”

Jorge stops at the window, his body tensing and arms dropping to his sides as he looks at me. “Do you think now is the right time? We’re busy planning for your wedding, which is rapidly approaching, and then there’s the task of trying to teach the American how to appear at royal events.”

“Her name is Amy, and you will start referring to her as such. If you cannot do that, then you will explain to the rest of the council why you cannot do so,” I say, ice in my voice.

This game Jorge is playing is getting old. It might be his job to challenge me and make me think, but he’s pushing it too far.

I wish Yorgos were alive. He would know how to get Jorge to fall into line.

Jorge sighs. “Now isn’t a good time to change the line of succession.”

“And in your mind, there’s never going to be a good time,” Atticus says, jumping in before I can. “You think that sticking to the old ways is for the best, but times are changing, as is the country. We need to change along with it.”

“I’ll think about this, but we really do need to think about the best way to put this to the rest of the council.” Jorge’s voice is strained, his face red.

“You can think about the best way to put this forward all you want, but I expect this news to be broken to the rest of them by the end of the day.”

Getting up, I head out of the conference room and down the hall.

Atticus catches up to me as I round a corner toward the door that leads out to the stables. “Do you really think dealing with him that way was for the best? You know he’s a vindictive little man, and he’s going to make sure this is the biggest uphill battle you’ve ever had.”

“Try not to stress yourself out about it.” I clap him on the shoulder as his phone starts ringing. “Sooner or later, Jorge will come around, and he’ll see that I’m right like I usually am.”

Atticus scoffs and shakes his head, pushing open the doors to the stables. “In your imagination, probably.”

“Honestly, I doubt even there.”

My cousin laughs, drawing Amy’s attention as she walks her horse slowly back and forth in front of the barn. Atticus nods to her, his smile falling slightly.

I elbow him in the side. “I don’t know what your problem is with her, but you need to get it together.”

“There’s no problem with her. I just know that when she leaves, you’re going to be wrecked,” Atticus says, then groans as his phone starts ringing. “I bet a hundred dollars that Jorge is calling us back for a full council meeting.”

“He would be.” I roll my eyes as Atticus checks his messages. “I told him to do something with the idea that I was going to spend the rest of my day the way I wanted, and now I’m going to have to get reamed out by the council over and over.”

“Maybe not over and over, but I’m sure you’re not going to hear the end of this,” he says, hauling open the door and gesturing into the castle. “After you.”

I sigh. “What are the chances of me running away and you not telling them that I did?”

“If I have to suffer, so do you.”

As he leads me inside, I’m sure it’s for the best.

If I spend the rest of the day with Amy and avoid all the other duties I have to fulfill, someone is going to have something to say about it.

I’m going to give the council more than enough to complain about over the next two and a half years. Paperwork doesn’t need to be one of them.

And it would be good to spend some time away from Amy.

I can’t lose myself in her only to wake up one morning and find her gone.