Page 5 of His Hidden Royal Heirs

And her world meant responsibility. Because if she didn’t meet it, Beaugonia would suffer. Her parents did not understand Beaugonia. They saw her lack of following their rules as defiance, some act of violence instead of just who Beau was. So true to herself she couldn’t pretend. But it wasn’t that simple, or Beau wouldn’t suffer from the panic attacks that had their parents viewing her as something...inferior.

No, Zia wouldn’t let that be Beau’s fate. When she was home, her parents focused on her, on the upcoming wedding. On plans for Lille’s partnership with Lyon’s home country, Divio.

Then it would be Beau’s turn for freedom.

So Zia eased out of the warm, soft bed, away from the large, gorgeous man, still fast asleep.

Zia was an expert at sneaking around. Her entire adolescence had been a study in it. The more guards her father had put on her, the sneakier she’d had to be.

The king would be at his wits’ end today, worrying if she’d come back at all. Making plans for if she didn’t. And all of those plans would be ready to be accomplished the second she broke her promise.

If she didn’t make her flight, all hell would break loose.

Zia’s time was up. She should be satisfied. Happy she got to do all the things she wanted.

She collected her discarded clothes, then gavehima look over her shoulder. He didn’t so much as stir. For a moment, she felt the strangest pang. She’d gone into this knowing it was a fling. A one-night stand, and she had no doubt he had done the same. He’d made that clear.

Maybe it had gotten a little muddled in the time in between. When he’d fed her and they’d laughed over steak sandwiches and a bottle of wine. They had not gotten into their personal lives, but they had spoken of places they’d traveled.

He was even more well-traveled than she and could weave entertaining stories of even the most boring museums. He was a fascinating man...even when she knew nothing about him.

So when they’d fallen into his bed again, it had been like they were old friends. When they’d dozed together and turned to each other all over again, she’d had the passing thought of how nice a life like this might be. Not two people fighting for control. Just a kind of...comradery. A partnership. A friendship. With amazing sex thrown in.

Muddled, yes, her feelings were, but the sex was not. It was explosive. Irresistible. An unquenchable hunger, like they wereeach a dessert they couldn’t quite get enough of no matter how they gorged themselves.

But it was over now. There would be no going back. She would be married come spring. Maybe...maybe she could find some semblance of this with her husband, the crown prince.

But Zia doubted it.

Lyon had made it clear that, like her father, he had expectations, roles for her to fill. He was not interested inher. He would not ask her opinion on the music in the club or make her a sandwich. Even meeting the prince only twice, she knew this.

But she had also known her whole life, she was not destined for all thenormalandsimpleshe craved. She was a princess. The heir. Her only role was for her country.

No matter how joyous, how right this week, last night had felt.

The future felt like a dead weight in her chest—not a new feeling, but it felt heavier now. Because she’d seen what could be this week. She’d thought that would give her the relief to make it through her responsibilities.

But instead it had given her a taste of joy. Not justhim, but everything she’d done this week. To walk the streets a nobody. To window-shop without guards, or an assistant having to make the purchases for her. To experience all the normalcies of life, on her own, and not worry about taking a misstep that Beau might be punished for. Because for all she rebelled in the privacy of the castle, she had known her parents would inflict an incredible avalanche of pain if she did it in public.

In this week, she got to make mistakes. She got to be whoever she wanted to be. Rude. Polite. Overzealous. Hysterical.

In absolutelustwith a complete stranger.

Oh, she knew she was privileged, but her privilege came with a price, and sometimes that price felt so heavy she could scarcely breathe. And still it was the privilege, and hersister back home, that meant she knew she had to follow her responsibilities.

Back to Lille. To a marriage she didn’t want. A prison sentence when she wasn’t sure what crime she’d ever committed except being born the pretty twin. The elegant twin. The one with naturalsocial graces and whose panic didn’t take over at any given moment.

Careful not to sigh, she slid out of the hotel suite, put back together as best she could be. She took a taxi to the airport and flew back home.

Back to being Princess Zia Rendall.

And all the weight that went with that.

CHAPTER THREE

CRISTHIANHADN’TSTOPPEDher sneak-away exit. It was best to not share any awkward goodbyes. No matter how often they’d turned into and over each other, they had not shared names. They both knew what it had been.

It had beenirregular, the conversations they’d had in between the bouts of unbelievable pleasure, but there was no point in dwelling on that.

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