Page 32 of Royal Reluctance

“What will he say?” I ask under my breath.

Bo shakes his head. “No clue. But it’ll be okay.”

“How can you know that?” I demand a little too loudly.

“He might be the king, but he’s just my dad. And she’s his…” Bo raises his eyebrows and mouthsgranddaughter.“Right?”

And that is the only hesitation Bo has shown about Tema. “Her birthday is July 8,” I tell him. I can tell he’s trying to do the math. “Wedding night,” I mutter.

“Ah.”

I shut down the memories of that night before they can explode and make this even messier than it already is.

I can only hope Bo is doing the same thing.

But it’s so difficult when he pulls up in front of the castle, which looms above us, snow-covered and intimidating.

“You’re really bringing me here,” I say in a quiet voice, staring out the window.

“You’re really letting me,” Bo corrects.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice with me, Hettie. About everything.”

Bo and I dated from when I was seventeen to when we married when I was twenty.

During those four years, we broke up six times. During the four years we were together, I only visited Bo’s home a handful of times, and never to meet his parents.

The breakups were the reason for that, and since breaking up with Bo had been my decision every time, I only have myself to blame.

I loved Bo Erickson, the man, but I never thought I was good enough for Bowden Erickson, the prince of Laandia. Being the daughter of one of the most notorious families in Battle Harbour, if not all of Laandia will do that to you. But Bo is still a prince, so I wonder how I would have felt if my family hadn’t been an issue. Would I have felt worthy then?

An older woman—somber in dress and appearance—greets us at the door. “Mrs. Theissen,” Bo says to her, standing between her and me like he’s offering himself as a shield. “These are my friends Hettie Crow and Abigail Locke, who are in town for a few days. I’ve invited them to stay here.”

I don’t miss the slight flaring of nostrils at the mention of my last name. “You are most welcome,” Mrs. Theissen tells us, dark eyes taking in everything. “It’s always nice to have friends of the prince to stay with us.”

“I’m Tema,” my daughter pipes up, as she often does when she thinks she’s not getting enough attention.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Tema.” That dark gaze flicks from Tema to me and over to Bo. “I’m Mrs. Theissen. You come and find me if you have any problems. Let me show you to your rooms.”

As we climb the stairs, I blank out on the snippets of history Mrs. Theissen throws over her shoulder. Thankfully, Tema and Abigail are right behind her to take it all in.

“Do you often have friends stay here?” I ask Bo in a low voice. Yes, it’s borderline petty; yes, I had a flare of jealousy at any female “friends” Bo might have invited here, but I blame the surge of exhaustion that washes over me. It’s been a very long day, and it’s still not over yet.

I’m going to have to talk to Bo about many things.

Bo studies me, his face expressionless. He was always very stoic when he was younger, but his face is like a blank canvas now. “No,” he finally admits. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

A relieved giggle escapes and Bo gives me a lopsided smile.

We reach our rooms—Abigail gets the room across from ours—and Mrs. Theissen bustles through, pointing out things that we should be able to figure out for ourselves. “Please let me know if you have any concerns,” she finishes. “I still use the castle intercom system, so let me know if you need anything. Dinner will be—”

“We’re having pizza,” Tema interrupts. “Bo said so.”

“Well.” The older woman sniffs. “I’ll let His Royal Highness make those arrangements.”

And then she’s gone.

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