Page 99 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

‘Shall we?’

He led her onto the dance floor. The crowd parted and the musicians struck up ‘The Emperor Waltz’.

Annalena’s fingers spasmed in his and he paused mid-step but she seemed to gather herself. ‘Let’s do this,’ she whispered.

They paced to the centre of the enormous room and as the music swelled, he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her into a slow-turning circle.

She was posture perfect, breathtaking under the blaze of lights, and their steps matched as if they’d danced together for years.

Benedikt pulled her closer for their sedate duty waltz under curious eyes. But when the pace of the music accelerated the dance turned into something more. The swirling music beat in his blood. The feel of Annalena, supple yet strong in his embrace, ignited an excitement, a mix of satisfaction and hunger that had nothing to do with the crowd or the crown.

Mysterious green eyes held his. Her breasts rose quickly and her lips parted as they sped down the room. The audience was a glittering blur.

His vision telescoped to the woman he held, the sensuality of her body against his and the heady, possessive beat of his blood.

Soon, soon, soon.

Suddenly he couldn’t wait for their wedding.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

They married ascant two weeks later.

Never had time rushed so quickly. Annalena had returned to Edelforst, seeking solace in familiar work and faces but didn’t find it. As she delivered on research goals and finalised contract negotiations, her inbox filled with messages from the palace. Questions to be answered, decisions to be made, reams of material to digest.

Then there were the calls. To be fair, Benedikt rarely called during business hours, like her, busy with his work. But early in the morning and in the evening she’d hear his deep voice, sometimes scratchy with tiredness, and her senses did an unwanted little shimmy of anticipation.

Those calls catapulted her back to the ball. The whirl of them dancing in harmony as if theywerethe perfect couple they tried to appear.

To the kiss. The wretched kiss that had upended all her certainty about what shedidn’twant from Benedikt.

‘Annalena?’

Colonel Ditmar stood beside her, imposing in dress uniform. His kindly eyes met hers.

‘Sorry. I was…’ What? Wishing herself anywhere but here? ‘Gathering myself.’

A brisk wind caught them on the cathedral’s porch, making her glad she had no veil and wore her hair up. She refused to appear veiled like some virgin, passed from one male protector to another.

Even if the virgin part was true. How was she meant to navigate this marriage when Benedikt undid her so easily? His impact on herhadto be down to her inexperience. The alternative was untenable.

‘It’s a big thing you’re doing, my dear, but you’re up to it. You’ll make a wonderful queen. Your grandmother is proud of you and your parents would have been too.’

The colonel’s sincerity as much as his words cut through her jangling nerves. She felt a warm glow, even as her mouth wobbled and she blinked suddenly scratchy eyes.

The thought of her parents approving was surprisingly strengthening. As for Oma, how Annalena wished she could be here. But the old lady’s agoraphobia made that impossible. Annalena knew how frustrated she was by it, and how she hid it behind a brisk manner. Even now she’d be watching the live broadcast.

The realisation made Annalena straighten and grip her bouquet tighter.

‘Thank you, Colonel, that means a lot.’

She turned to her attendants, a colleague’s twelve-year-old twins. Wearing coronets of wildflowers and pretty dresses of pale spring green, they twitched the hem of her dress. ‘Ready, girls?’

They hurried into position, their eagerness a stark contrast to her feelings.

The colonel nodded to an attendant. A trumpet fanfare sounded then the resonant notes of the massive pipe organ. Music rolled through the doorway, grand and ebullient. Celebratory. Annalena refused to acknowledge her stomach’s nauseating churn. Instead she lifted her chin and let the colonel lead her forward.

Shafts of sunlight, coloured by ancient stained-glass windows, lit the massive heraldic flags hanging high above the congregation. The cathedral was packed. She saw suits and traditional festive clothes, beaming smiles and stares. All those people and she probably only knew a dozen.

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