Page 34 of Royal Rebel

There are laughs and giggles from the same people who were just whistling.

I’m glad he speaks, because I can’t. Not now, I have to pull myself together. Even when he doesn’t try, he’s able to pull me apart and put me back together in a way that leaves me shaky. Not shaky in a bad way either, in the best damn way. If given the chance, I’d be this shaky for the rest of my life.

And when we enter the ballroom, I realize quickly just how much out of my element I feel.

“We’re here, we’re together, and then we get to go home together,” Tristan whispers in my ear.

I give him a smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You’re right. Let’s get this show on the road.”

CHAPTER 19

TRISTAN

I’m doing my level best to pay attention to what these very important people are saying to me. They are members of boards we rely heavily on within the government, they are the people who make donations to many charitable causes we support as the leaders of our nation. But the fact of the matter is, I’m distracted.

Completely and totally distracted.

By one person. The person who has had my attention since she appeared in my life.

My soon-to-be wife on the other side of the room.

Over the course of the last few hours, I’ve observed her from afar. Unfortunately I can’t be at her side; tradition calls for us to work rooms separately so that we can give more people the attention of the crown. Watching her smile at the appropriate times, laugh when the situation called for it, and thoroughly bewitch anyone she’s come into contact with makes me proud. The worst part about it? I want her to bewith me. Tonight, I don’t want to share her laughs, smiles, or anything else with anyone. They are all mine, and I’m salty I have to share.

“I heard about the situation going on,” Barrett Wimberly, son of one of my father’s biggest supporters, whispers as he comes to stand next to me.

He and I have been friends for years, I would consider us very good friends, if asked. “It’s been taken care of.” I take a sip of my scotch. “Just barely.”

“Did you face any opposition, my king?” The side of his mouth twitches with a grin as he lifts his own scotch up to take a drink.

“Fuck off,” I whisper. “How long have we known each other? You’ll never call me King.” My mouth twitches as well. I’m grateful to have people like this in my life. My father doesn’t, and it’s obvious in the way he’s secluded himself in past years. “At least to my face.”

He lets the laugh overtake him, as do I. Laughing with friends is the best thing to alleviate a stressful situation, outside of being with Amelia.

“To answer your question, no opposition yet,” I sigh. “But I haven’t officially taken the crown yet either. I’m prepared for there to be something. In this day and age, it seems no one lets anyone else peacefully do what they’re supposed to. There’s always someone in the crowd who wants to ruin it for everyone else.”

“It’s going to be a big week for you when you do. Marriage, ruling of a nation, the crown. I mean this will bethebiggest week of your life.”

The way he says it, presses forward how much is going to change. It’s more real when others say it.

“No doubt,” I agree. “I know I can be honest with you,and I have to say I think I’m more excited about marriage. The crown, the title, the palace—that’s all good. But there’s something about her.” I tilt my glass in her direction.

Barrett glances at me, his eyebrows drawn together. “Are you perhaps falling in love with your soon-to-be wife?”

I take another sip of the scotch, letting it work its way down my throat. The burn is welcome as I contemplate what he’s asked. It’s not an easy answer. Just like anything else worth having, love is complicated, and I’m unsure of whether I’m ready to say the words to anyone. “Love is a strong word, one I haven’t said much of since my mother passed away, but I do find myself caring deeply for her.”

He snorts, like he doesn’t believe me. And maybe he doesn’t, but that’s his issue, not mine.

“You’ve got it bad, Tristan.”

I shrug as my eyes track her across the room. There are a few things I’m willing to share with my friend, honestly with anyone who asks. There are certain parts of Amelia’s personality I wish everyone were privy to. “She makes my days better and I’ve never had someone who did that for me.”

“Then I would say you’re a very lucky man.” Barrett claps my shoulder as he moves on to the next person he needs to speak to.

Now that I’m alone, I slyly slink into the shadows, effectively avoiding everyone who may want to stop me and have a word. It’s not what I’m supposed to do, but I can’t seem to help myself. I want to have a few moments to see her, see how she reacts to everything going on with us. I want to make sure she’s happy. It’s becoming my main goal in life. To make sure she’s happy and taken care of. With my back against the wall, I observe Amelia. Watching her has become one of my favorite pastimes. When she doesn’t know myeyes are on her, I can see how she’s really handling her new reality. The one who attentively listens to the person speaking, bends slightly down to hear an older person, holds the eye of the one wanting her attention, and politely smiles even when she’s uncomfortable.

Love. I think back to what Barrett suggested, and I wonder if perhaps she’s not starting to get under my skin in a way more than physical. I promised myself after my mom passed away I would never give my heart to someone else, but I never anticipated someone coming into my life like Lia. Stupidly I presumed everyone was like my father.

I think I was wrong.

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