Page 89 of Duty and Desire

Of the future I never wanted.

“Your Highness.” The words had a sharp edge to them, as though I was striving to maintain the distance I’d put between us.

Karoline didn’t bat an eyelid, apparently unfazed by my tone. Instead, her lips curved into a polite, practiced smile. There was no warmth in it, but then there never had been, even when she was a teenager. Her gaze raked over me as if she were studying a piece of furniture.

She bowed her head. “Your Majesty.” The formality in her voice cut like ice. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

My stomach roiled.

It’s nothing but words. You never really knew my father.

And yet there she was, playing the part of the dutiful princess, already so perfectly aligned with the role she was meant to fill. I’d always known arranged marriages weren’t uncommon in royal houses, and I’d been forced to accept the situation.

But standing before her, I felt the trap closing in on me, suffocating me, and before I could put a brake on my mouth, I blurted, “You didn’t have to come.”

The words hung in the air between us, awkward and out of place.

Her smile didn’t falter, but now there was an edge to it, something sharp behind the professionalism of her body language.

“Of course I did. I came out of respect, because the situation demands it.” Something flickered briefly in her eyes, something softer, but it was gone before I could name it. “You must be under a lot of pressure right now.”

That’s one way to put it.

I swallowed. “We can’t talk here. Let’s go to my study.” Then I noticed her bags. “I’ll have those sent to your room. Can I inform the housekeeper how long you’ll be staying?” I kept my voice even.

Even before she spoke, her cool smile dashed my hopes that this would be a short visit.

“I’ll stay as long as you need me. For the funeral, of course, and then perhaps we can discuss a date for the wedding. So I may be here for some time.”

I had to try to stop this freight train once and for all.

I led the way to my study, and once I’d closed the door behind us, I went over to my desk and made the call to housekeeping. I gestured to the armchairs, and we sat.

“It’s been a long time, Niko.” Her glance was almost accusing. “Too long. For a while there, I was concerned you’d forgotten about me.”

I couldn’t calm the frantic buzzing inside me. My ribs felt too tight, and my head ached.

“Don’t you think we should call a halt to all this?”

Karoline’s brows furrowed. “All what? I don’t understand.”

The words spilled out of me in a rush, fueled by frustration, even anger, and a sense of hopelessness.

“You. Me. This marriage. It was my father’s idea, but he’s dead. Why should we continue with this… this royal farce? Can you look me in the eye and tell me this is what you really want?”

The air was still and quiet.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t recoil. She didn’t even seem surprised. “I’m going to assume this is your grief speaking, Niko.”

Which only served to show she didn’t know me at all.

Her expression softened, just enough for me to see the edge of her patience, the practiced mask of someone who’d been trained to take on whatever mantle life gave them. “What we want doesn’t come into this. This is what we have to do.”

And there it was again, not said aloud but implied. Duty. The same word I’d heard my whole life, used to justify every decision, every expectation, every sacrifice.

Duty was smothering me.

Killing me.

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