Page 15 of Prince She Shouldn't Crave
‘Around two weeks, Your Majesty.’
‘I hope it’s going well. Is His Highness doing everything you ask of him?’
Lena gave an enigmatic smile. ‘I couldn’t say, Your Majesty.’
‘How politic of you.’ Lise laughed. ‘I’m afraid we’re rather old-fashioned here. Perhaps we need a PR manager too? If you’re ever seeking different pastures, you might get in touch…’
Those words lit something volcanic inside Gabe. He instantly wanted to shoutNo!although he had no reason to. Whilst it had only been a couple of weeks, he’d begun to value Lena in ways he couldn’t explain.
‘I’d ask you not to try to steal my staff right in front of me,’ he said.
‘No, we’ll do it behind your back like any decent prospective employer would,’ Rafe said with a grin. He’d been a ruthlessbusinessman before marrying Lise. The ruthlessness remained, at least where his wife and what she wanted came into play.
That thought left Gabe feeling strangely wistful, as if looking for something he didn’t know was missing. He shook it off.
Gabe turned to Lena. She stood there looking professional, impassive, although her blue eyes glittered with glee as if she was enjoying the unofficial bidding war.
‘If these…poachers approach you, let me know. I’ll give you a pay rise.’
Lena cocked her eyebrow. ‘Sir, I believe they have already approached me. So, I’ll leave that with you.’
‘She’s ruthless, Montroy,’ Rafe chuckled. ‘I like her.’
Gabe had come to realise he did too. She was fresh. Honest. Didn’t pander to him. He tried not to think about the rest. Like her colouring. So striking, with her hair as black as a raven’s wing, eyes like blue topaz. Skin a burnished gold.
Lena made a transfixing picture, should you take the time to notice her.
‘I’m supposing you’d like some photographs, then?’ Lise asked, bringing his thoughts back to the real purpose of Lena’s presence.
‘Yes, ma’am. I understand, whilst these are part of your private apartments, you do occasionally use this room as a formal receiving area for international guests. Is that correct? I want to make sure your private space remains private.’
‘You’re correct.’ Lise cocked her head, her gaze on Lena intense. Gabe wondered what she was thinking. Probably how much to pay Lena to tempt her away from him. Gabe made a mental note to take that quip about a pay rise seriously. ‘Thank you for being so thoughtful.’
‘I was also wondering, ma’am, whether we could take a photograph of His Highness with Prince Carl. From behind, notshowing your son’s face. I appreciate you’re careful with your children’s privacy.’
Lise and Rafe exchanged a glance. ‘Of course. Why don’t I bring them in now? I know they’re looking forward to seeing you, Gabriel. Especially as you come bearing gifts.’
For his godson, he’d brought the present he always gave children for their birthday. A book. Because reading was the greatest gift Gabe could bestow. One he’d come to finally enjoy through audiobooks, and, if persistent, by slowly reading novels when he had the time and was in the right frame of mind. Something he could never have enjoyed when he was younger.
Queen Lise left the room and returned within minutes, two squealing children running behind her, the room filling with chaos and laughter. Once again, a sensation assailed him watching the scene. Rafe, hugging his little boy. The little Princess and future queen, showing her mother something she’d drawn. He’d only ever seen marriage and family as a duty to his country. From his pre-teens he’d been told that was his role, to assure the throne with the correct partner and at least two children. It had never held an attraction as anything other than another job, securing succession.
Yet, seeing the family tableau in front of him, why did he suddenly crave for something more?
Lena melted into the background. The King and Queen made a beautiful couple. The Queen with her golden colouring and Rafe with his dark good looks. The children mirrored their parents. The little Princess Marie a whirlwind of dark curls taking after her father, and the Prince, a golden cherub like his mother.
She tried to capture it all. Gabe had been right about not working with children or animals. She had a hard time getting any shots without the children’s sweet faces but she was surethat their parents might appreciate some of the photographs for their own album, so she stopped worrying and simply took pictures.
The Princess loved the sparkly fairy costume with wings and a crown they’d brought so she wouldn’t get jealous. She ran about bestowing favours and wishes to everybody with a tap of her wand. Lena had almost expected Gabe to be as cool and aloof as usual, but he wasn’t. Not here. She’d come to realise that his chilly persona wasn’t the real man. There was someone else entirely simmering underneath his impeccable suits. Lena was sure he was hiding part of himself. She just didn’t know what, or why.
It was a puzzle to sort out at another time. Right now, he sat at a little child’s table opposite his godson, who was colouring in a picture with crayons. It was such an incongruous scene. Such a large man in a suit, folded into a small chair opposite a child. She picked up the book he’d brought with him and walked towards them both.
‘I know you’ve forgotten your glasses, sir. But perhaps you could show Prince Carl the pictures?’ She spread open a page adorned with colourful animals on the table between them. Gabe looked up at her as she did. She couldn’t fathom the expression on his face as she stood back. It almost looked guilty.
‘Why don’t you draw me a fish like this?’ Gabe said, pointing at the page as Carl took a blue crayon and began to scribble on some paper. Lena stood behind him, photographing as Gabe turned the pages. It was such a tender scene. The two princes. With his blond hair, Carl could almost look like Gabe’s son. In that moment, a gripping sense of the future overwhelmed her. Was this what he’d be like as a father? Someone attached, interested?
She’d never had that. In truth, she hadn’t really wanted it until she’d gone to school and the other students had told her itwas what their fathers were like. Lena had realised, after trying to engage with her own, that he was never going to be there for her. Yet what was she seeing here? If she’d had children, it was what she’d want for them. A father who wasn’t distant and aloof, but who was proud of them and their achievements. Who wanted to spend time with his children doing something as simple as looking through a book. Praising their drawings.
It left her melancholy, with a sense that she’d missed out, even though she’d had a good enough life. Been given an education. Had a mother who loved her, in her own way. Always food on the table. That was more than many had. She should be thankful. Lena couldn’t say why it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
