Page 89 of Royal Crush

“You have to leave,” I rasped.

He nodded. “I’ll come back, of course. Caverna is my home. Every time I have breaks, I’ll be here.”

It hit me that this wasn’t just him floating an idea of doing this together. This was him saying he was going to leave. “You don’t want me to go with you?” I didn’t mean to say the words aloud, but it felt like I was being stabbed in the heart.

His gaze shot up to mine. “I…well. You’re a prince.”

I stared at him. “So? When has that ever mattered to you? You were irreverent the second I met you! Now you’re worried about protocol?”

“No, I…shit. I mean, are you even allowed to leave your…position?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “What position? I have wheelchair basketball—which I suck at—one day a week. I have a handful of friends and the occasional appearance at a children’s hospital if my parents arrange it. I write books because there’s nothing else for me, Aleric. My brother has children and royal duties and training. I’m so far removed from the crown that the only way I’d get it is the death of my entire family, and if that happened, I wouldn’t be able to survive. The only thing I have that belongs to me is you.”

He was staring at me, unblinking. “So. You’d…you’d want to come? To be with me?”

The idea was wholly terrifying. A new country far away from my creature comforts? Leaving my medical team behind? And Cillian? He wasn’t married any longer, but he had family. His kids were grown, but he still saw them at least once a week.

I couldn’t ask him to do that.

And in all honesty, would I even need to? We were a nobody country with a tiny military that was mostly for show and a handful of trade agreements. Our main export was honey, for fuck’s sake. If I went to the States, I could be anonymous. Just…some guy.

“Camillo,” Aleric said very softly.

I looked at him. “Quit this fucking show.”

He burst into laughter and jumped up, moving around the table until he was at my side. And then, once again, he knelt. “It’s more complicated than that. I have a contract, and right now, I cannot afford to get sued. Especially because I’ll lose.”

“I’ll pay for?—”

“No,” Aleric said softly. “No. I can’t risk my reputation getting any worse. But if I can go somewhere to start over while letting the last of my life here fade, and if you come with me?—”

“I will.” I wasn’t sure I could make that promise so readily, but looking into his eyes, it was the only answer I could give him. It would be hard. It would be complicated. But none of that mattered.

“We can make it work.”

Grabbing him by his shirt, I lifted him until we were at eye level. “Together.”

He nodded, then leaned in, and he kissed me.

One Year and Seven Months Later

ALERIC

“I’m going to die.I mean it. I hope you have a good life insurance policy on me because I’m fading into nothing.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Camillo’s voice was soft and commanding and so fucking welcome. I was home—because wherever he was, that was home. Which happened to be in a little suburb near LA on a private beach.

I’d been away for twelve impossible weeks finishing up the last stint of me playing him—which was weirder now that I had a ring on my finger. We weren’t married yet, but we had plans. He’d proposed on our anniversary, and so far, the press hadn’t gotten a hold of it, but they would.

I just wanted to be done with all the mess back home so I no longer had to kiss him goodbye and go back to the place that had threatened to destroy us.

Too much had happened in the last year and a half anyway. As predicted, Hugo had come forward and had started in with press interviews. It lasted until Camillo went to his parents and told them what happened the night Hugo had him in his apartment.

They recommended keeping quiet, but Carlo had not agreed. At all. He’d done a full press tour, and while no one had anyevidence on either side, trial by public opinion favored Camillo. He was a good man, and Hugo was a nobody, grasping at the last chance he had to be relevant.

He went quietly after that.

Neither of us figured out whether or not Christoph had known him, but when I refused to sign the contract for season three, he didn’t put up a fight. I didn’t care what was happening to the show after I left. It wasn’t my business. Camillo and I agreed not to watch it when it aired, and I kept my promotional tours small.

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