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‘Okay,’ Amelia agreed, uneasily though, anxious, stressed, worried, of all people, about Benedetto. Who was more than capable of looking after himself.
She expelled a long, slow breath.
‘Tell me about Anton’s fiancée. Tell me what I’ve missed.’
Relieved that it seemed Amelia wasn’t going to disappear immediately, Anna-Maria began to speak, a little too quickly, as though she too was uneasy, or nervous, but gradually she calmed.
‘She’s wonderful, you’ll love her. We all do. She’s been so good for Anton, so calming and steadying. She’s made him a better man.’
‘How did they meet?’
‘At a hospital benefit. She’s a paediatrician, you know. She’ll give it up, once they’re married, which is a great shame, but the constitution demands it.’ Anna-Maria tsked her disapproval. ‘Your father tried to change it but apparently he cannot. Sadly for Vanessa, she’ll have to content herself with some volunteer work and becoming a patron of the charities she likes.’
‘Is she okay with that?’
‘I think it took some getting used to, which is one of the reasons she refused his proposal the first two times.’ Anna-Maria’s brows knitted together. ‘She had a difficult upbringing, you know, to her, we are already like parents. I hope you like her, darling. I know it will mean so much to her to have you as a sister. She’s been so looking forward to meeting you.’
Amelia’s chest was hurting. She felt terrible for having disappeared, for having worried everyone, for having missed so much, and she also felt awful for being back, for the risk her appearance brought to them, for the possibility that just by being here she was exposing the family to a scandal from which they might not recover. She was a living, ticking time bomb, her very life the evidence of her mother’s affair. Amelia was the evidence, but it was her mother who’d cheated, then lied, and as Amelia sat opposite the Queen, she couldn’t help but feel a whip of anger at the base of her spine.
‘I’m looking forward to meeting her too,’ Amelia promised, distracted now.
Anna-Maria spent an hour going over everything else Amelia had missed and also some scheduling concerns, such as the dress fitting for the wedding, and the requirements for the next few days. Amelia barely paid attention.
‘From tomorrow, the official events will commence. You arrived just in time, darling. Just in time.’ Then, with a softening to her face and a hint of moisture back in her eyes, she said, ‘I’m just so glad you came home. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too,’ Amelia whispered, and, despite the complex emotions she felt towards her mother, she knew that was right.
As they hugged, the door opened and His Majesty King Timothy Moretti strode into the room, dressed formally, followed by his second son, Rowan. ‘Good God, it’s true,’ Timothy said, wiping a hand over his eyes. ‘You’re home.’
A lump formed in Amelia’s throat as she faced the moment she’d feared the most—seeing again the man who’d raised her, knowing he was not her father, that he’d been duped into the role. And though it had not been her lie, her betrayal, nor her fault, guilt curdled her gut and nausea rose like a tidal wave inside her.
She bowed, as was custom, but the King made a noise of frustration and pulled her into his arms, hugging her so hard she thought a rib might crack. ‘Don’t you ever, ever do anything like this again,’ he said fiercely, but with a voice that shook. ‘I forbid it. By royal decree, do you understand?’ It was a joke, of sorts, but Amelia heard the strain in his voice and again the guilt at having run away and hidden herself from her family crashed into her like a tonne of bricks. What else could she have done though? She felt risk from every angle; it was stupid to have come back, but how could she have stayed away? Amelia felt as though she were caught between a rock and a hard place.
‘I’ve missed you,’ she said, simply, because she could not promise to stay, but had truly yearned for her family. A moment later, Rowan hugged her and her heart skipped because she felt closest of all to her middle brother, who’d had the privilege of growing up royal without the pressures.
‘Ready to be one of us again?’ he asked lightly, his eyes scanning her face.
Amelia swallowed quickly; she wasn’t one of them, though. ‘I’m glad to see you all.’
Rowan’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t push it, and Amelia was glad. There were some answers she just didn’t have yet.
Benedetto had been to the palace before but now he saw it through different eyes. He saw it as the place where Amelia had grown up, the gardens she’d run through, the art she’d studied, the long, historic, beautiful corridors she’d skipped down as a child. The building that had housed her heartbreaks, hopes, that had finally borne witness to her awful discovery and the impact that had on her, the blackmail, the pain of that betrayal.
‘You’re not listening,’ Anton said with a grin, a study in relaxed calm now that Amelia was back and Benedetto had taken his place at Anton’s side.
‘No.’ Benedetto was unapologetic. ‘Tell me again.’
‘You’re still worried about her.’
Benedetto’s eyes flashed to Anton’s. ‘Yes.’
‘You’re being ridiculous. She’s fine. Probably just being suffocated by my parents’ many, many embraces.’
‘Aren’t you eager to see her too?’ Benedetto asked, his voice carefully muted of emotion.
‘I haven’t seen her in over two years. I can wait a little longer.’
‘You’re angry with her.’
