Page 53 of Royal Secret

Her hesitation dances across her features, a silent ballet of conflict. “But my job, my family…” She bites her lip. “And I don’t want to be dependent on someone else, even if that someone is you.”

The road stretches before us, winding and uncertain, much like our future. Marrying Courtney isn’t just an option — it’s the answer. My heart has known this truth long before my mind caught up.

“I understand,” I say softly. “And whatever it takes, I will prove to you that I am here for you. Even if it takes some time… I will wait.”

“I do want to be here,” she breathes. “I do.”

“Actually, there’s something else,” I continue, seizing the moment, determined to lay all my cards on the table. “Would you come with me to the palace tonight? To meet my family?”

“Tonight?” The word hangs between us. Excitement kindles within her gaze, but there’s a twinge of nervousness in her smile.

“I love you, Jakob,” she asserts, gripping my hand tightly. “I want to meet them, no matter what they might think of me.”

“They will adore you,” I reassure her, though a knot forms in my stomach at the thought of my father’s potential disapproval. The longstanding hostility between our families means little to me now, but its shadow looms large over the palace walls.

“Let’s do it,” she says, a brave tilt to her chin. “I’m ready.”

As I drive toward my apartment, my — hopefully — future queen beside me, I feel the tides of destiny pulling us along. And I know, rivalries or not, I would cross any divide for her.

CHAPTER 30

COURTNEY

Iroll over and stretch across Jakob’s massive bed, joy bubbling through my every cell. The nap has done wonders for my energy, but as I sit up and smooth the crinkles from my shirt, a flutter of anxiety tickles my chest. Tonight, I’m to meet Jakob’s family, and my suitcase is laughably devoid of anything remotely appropriate for a palace visit.

I rise, pacing the plush carpet, my mind racing through a wardrobe that won’t materialize out of thin air. How does one even dress to meet a king and queen?

A knock at the door pulls me from my fretful reverie. Jakob enters, a soft smile playing on his lips that makes my heart do an involuntary leap.

“Are you ready?” he asks, though his eyes are teasing, knowing full well I’m far from it.

I let out a sigh edged with frustration. “Jakob, I can’t possibly go to the palace like this. My clothes are…” I gesture hopelessly to the worn suitcase sitting in the corner.

“Ah,” he says, his blue eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “I thought you might say that.” He steps aside, revealing a rack of dresses behind him, their colors rich and varied, fabrics shimmering even in the dimming light.

“Last-minute deliveries are quite efficient here in Bergovia,” he explains with a modest shrug, as if summoning haute couture with the snap of his fingers were an everyday occurrence. “When you’re a prince, anyway.”

I’m momentarily stunned, speechless at the sight of the beautiful gowns. My gaze travels over each one, from the elegant black sheath to a breathtaking emerald number that seems to pull me toward it with an invisible thread. But it’s the deep-blue dress, its fabric flowing like midnight water, that captures the essence of what I’d envisioned — if I had dared to envision anything at all.

“Jakob, they’rebeautiful,” I breathe out in awe.

I step forward, my hand grazing the luxurious materials, my mind whirring with the thoughtfulness of his gesture.

He watches me with warmth. “Only the best for you,” he says softly, and something about the way he looks at me, so full of care and adoration, crumbles the last of my nerves.

“Thank you,” I whisper, reaching up to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.

His stubble tickles my lips, and I linger there for a brief moment longer than necessary, savoring the closeness.

“Try them on. See which one feels right,” he encourages, stepping back to give me space. “I will go and take a shower.”

I choose the blue — it reminds me of his eyes, of Bergovian nights, of new beginnings — and slip into the changing area with an excited flutter in my stomach. As I smooth the fabric over my curves, I feel transformed. The dress fits as if it was made just for me.

Catching my reflection in the mirror, a glamorous stranger blinks back at me with wide, green eyes. The sparkle of the delicate sequins on the gown seems to echo the new sparkle in my life. Jakob and I are together! We’re expecting a baby!

It's all almost too much to believe.

I twist, and the dress twirls with me, the skirt billowing softly. My heart does a little dance of its own. Being with a prince… The thought sends my mind spiraling into possibilities that yesterday seemed galaxies away. How will my life change? Will there be protocols, etiquette lessons, or scrutinizing glances from courtiers?

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