Page 51 of Royal Rebel

He moves so his mouth is tilted toward my ear. “Why are you whispering? It’s just us in this back seat.”

But my eyes are watching the crowded streets around us as we make our way to the palace. This crowd looks even bigger than the one who gathered when we announced our engagement. I can’t tell how deeply the people are standing, but I’m assuming it’s three to four people deep. “You’re wrong.” I nod to the crowds. “It’s us and them.”

Part of me doesn’t want to speak with my face toward thewindow. I’m afraid someone will read my lips and presume to know what’s going on in our lives. After the engagement, I saw articles from lip readers interpreting what we said, but without knowing what we were speaking about, it all seemed random. Or worse yet, it seemed like we were short with one another. Which wasn’t at all the case. Something will inevitably be taken out of context and it could brand either of us, or just one of us as ungrateful. It could turn the tide of the people away from us, and then where would we be? It’s a lot of pressure, especially for two people who aren’t even thirty yet.

“No.” He reaches up, grabbing my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “It’s always just us, Lia.”

I don’t argue, but even I know it’s not the truth. My whole life I’ve watched the royal family on the periphery and there’s no doubt in my mind—the people always have an opinion. Whether it’s good or bad, they always have one. It’s our job to make sure the opinion for us is a good one.

But I lie.

“Okay.” I nod, smiling slightly.

I wonder if he can tell I’m not being truthful. Then I worry this isn’t a good way to start off a marriage. My conscience reminds me this isn’t a typical marriage. There might always be things he won’t be able to tell me, so what if I don’t tell him everything?

But even thinking it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Slightly shaking my head, I look back out at the crowd that’s gathered for us. Doing what I’m supposed to—putting a huge smile on my face and waving back at them—helps to alleviate some of those thoughts. Instead of thinking about everything I can’t control, I decide to think about the things I can. Shannon’s words come back to me.Keep the smile onyour face, wave with elegance, don’t turn the elbow too much, don’t give a weird face that someone will be able to use in a tabloid. Keep my shoulders back, look down when we pass members of the military. There are so many rules, I’m not even sure how I manage to keep them straight, but I do.

After what seems like a million years, we pull into the parking area of the palace.

“Don’t let Father intimidate you,” he tells me before we get out. “This is our home now, he’ll be living at his summer home full-time moving forward.”

“Is that near where we were?” I question, not sure how these family dynamics work.

“No.” His normally relaxed face isn’t there any longer. “He and I don’t get along like we used to. It’s on the other side of Haldonia. The west side. Any luck and we won’t have to deal with him after the wedding.”

Just by the way he says the words, I can figure out that’s what Tristan’s hoping for. It’s not like I’ve never met him before, but being here with Tristan, it feels differently. Instead of feeling like someone who’s about to get married, I feel like a child who’s worried they’re going to disappoint their parents. I don’t feel like an adult at all. I feel like a fraud.

“This way.” Shannon helps me out of the car.

I’m so excited to see a friend, I grip her hand in mine, hanging on for dear life. The familiarity of her is enough to almost bring tears to my eyes.

“You’re doing great,” she encourages me. “You’re going to go in, meet with a few dignitaries, and then you’ll be done until tonight. You’ve got this.”

Tonight. I let a slow breath out.

Tonight we get introduced for real.

The engagement was small compared to what this willbe like. I need a drink, but I know that doesn’t set a good precedence.

“Father.”

The tone he uses isn’t one I’ve heard from him before. Usually Tristan is open, no matter who he’s speaking with. He’s the type of person who has nothing to hide, no matter who he is. But his tone changes when he speaks to his father. It’s apparent, at least to me, he’s closing himself off to the man standing in front of us. Doesn’t want to give him a chance to hurt him. Seeing him close off is almost devastating to me, because he’s such an open and giving person.

“Tristan.” He shakes his son’s hand.

It’s so cold. Colder than I’ve ever seen with the man who will be my husband. I feel as if I’m hearing and seeing an entirely different person.

It makes me wonder how their relationship was before his mom passed away. Were they close? Have they not been able to find their way back to each other? Is my job to be the one to help them bridge the gap?

“Amelia.” He looks down at me.

I’m torn. Should I curtsy? Are we going to shake hands? At one time I knew exactly what I would do, but now I see how he treats his son, and I can’t bring myself to do what I should.

“Call me Phillip.” He reaches out his hand to me, the same way he did to Tristan.

Even that strikes me as odd, I’m not related to him, and he’s just greeted me the same way as he did his son.

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