Page 33 of Royal Rebel

“Yeah, just relax for a little while.”

He closes his eyes. I can’t help but to rub against the way his forehead is crinkling. His face finally starts to relax as his breath evens out and he slips into sleep.

Funnily enough, I hardly ever get a chance to see Tristan asleep. I’m typically always asleep before him, because I feel so safe. I wonder how safe he feels with me, if I help him tocome down from what has to be the anxieties of his position. One day I won’t be asking myself these questions, I have complete faith the two of us will be talking about it. We’ll have the relationship and marriage my parents have.

My parents are each other’s best friends, they do most everything together, and there’s not a night they go to bed angry with one another. They always work out their problems.

Any problem at all is worth working out.

This is exactly how I want to be with Tristan. Looking down at him, my heart flutters, and a small smile works its way onto my lips.

In sleep, he looks much younger than his years. His face smooths out, and the tension that always seems to be at his neck and shoulders dissolves. Obviously there’s a huge weight on him, knowing that he’s the person making the biggest decisions for a nation. Even if he were used to it, it would be extremely nerve-racking.

His hands grip mine in his sleep, and for this moment I’m thankful that he’s able to have this time and I’m able to have it with him. Able to give it to him. As much as he’s changing, I’m changing too.

One day there will be people that try to pull us in different directions, one day we might not be able to stand as a united front without someone trying to tear us down. But here, right now, in the back of this limo, we’re anchors for each other. The swirling sea around us resembles the one not far from the road we’re driving on. But I know one thing is for certain. I’ll never take this or him for granted.

As scared as I was to be his wife, I’m even more scared to live my life without him.

“Tris.” I lean over, kissing him softly. “Wake up, we’re here.”

I don’t want to disturb him, but it’s time for us to put on a show. It’s a show that’s starting to sit deeply in my heart.

His palm cups the back of my neck, pulling me down for a kiss of his own. Immediately he sits up, stretching. His eyes are alert, the lines of fatigue are gone from his face. I’ve never seen someone improve so much by just a small catnap.

“That’s exactly what I needed.”

“You don’t even look like you were tired.” I brush his hair back from his forehead, fingering some of it that got mussed. Even though I haven’t been able to tell him my feelings, I can show him.

“Lots of practice after partying hard the night before.” He winks. There’s a little bit of danger in the grin he gives along with the wink.

“I didn’t know that about you.” I laugh.

He puts his arm around me, kissing me on the forehead. “And hopefully you never will. I like to think I’ve evolved. I know I don’t need that mindless company anymore. You completely make up for the loneliness I was feeling.” He taps the tip of my nose.

The partition in the limo lowers and I hear Parker speak. “We’re about to get out, be prepared.”

Immediately I’m nervous, as nervous as I was on the balcony of the palace. Here there won’t be twenty or so feet in height separating me from the looks and cameras of the world. With the spotlight on us, they’ll be able to tell if my smile doesn’t quite meet my eyes. Maybe a spot was missed when my makeup was put on. Someone will pointit out. We’ll be under a microscope and I’m unsure if I’m ready.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I think the saying is. This is exactly how I feel right now.

Parker gets out, coming to the back of the limo, where Tristan gets out before he reaches in to give me his hand. “Slow if you need to,” he cautions as I set one foot down on the pavement, get my balance on the heel of my shoe, and then swing my other leg around. As I stand, brush my skirt down, take Tristan’s arm, and glance up, I’m not prepared for the amazing amount of photographers in front of us. I’m blinded as flashes go off, but I keep the smile on my face and hold on tightly to Tristan as he walks us down the red carpet.

He’s slow, making sure my dress is out of the way every time I take a step. It warms a spot in my stomach as he takes care of me. Reporters shout out questions, wanting to know personal details.

“Amelia, have you picked out a wedding dress?”

“Tristan, how are the two of you getting along?”

“Amelia, what was the first kiss like?”

“Tristan, have you done anything romantic for your bride-to-be?”

As instructed, we ignore all of the questions, smiling this way and that. Tristan turns his head to mine, we’re standing close together, I can see his eyes flitter down to my lips, and that’s the only indication I get that he’s about to kiss me. The kiss is slow, sensual in its own way, even though all we do is touch lips. He’s lazy in his possession. It doesn’t mean I feel it any less. This claim is just as potent as any other one he’s staked on me. In a way it’s even more so because he’s doing it in front of the public.

There are whistles breaking out from every part of thegallery where the photographers and reporters have gathered. My cheeks heat, and I know a blush covers the skin.

Tristan clears his throat. “If you don’t mind, my fiancée and I have a party to attend.”

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