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Rowan
There aren’tany morning after pills in the palace, Dr. Williams informs me with nothing but professionalism and tact. I try to swallow down the shame and wonder how many other staff members know what I did with the Prince.
“By the time the roads open up for us to get supplies, it’ll be too late to take it,” the doctor says.
I nod. “I understand. I don’t think I’m ovulating, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”
The doctor nods, shifting uncomfortably. He opens his mouth, reconsiders, and bows his head before backing out of my room. I flop down onto the bed, groaning.
I’m a healthy young woman who has sex. I’m not ashamed of that.
But ugh, did I really have to give in to those feelings? Throw away every shred of logical thought for a few minutes of passion?
I stand up and wrap a cardigan around my shoulders, then head to the library. At least I feel comfortable there. As I pad through the hallways, I feel like I’m being watched. The staff is whispering about me. They must know by now, right?
I wonder if the Prince does this with every new woman he comes across. Maybe this is his way of dealing with the grief of his fiancée’s death.
I shove the library door open with my shoulder, shivering at the chill in the room. It takes me a few minutes to get the fire started, and I sit on the hearth with a throw blanket wrapped around my shoulders. As the fire grows, I stare at the dancing flames and try to make sense of my turbulent thoughts.
Sleeping with the Prince was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m attracted to him, yes, but he’s royalty. I’m not. I’m employed by the royal family to do a job, and I’m not even from Nord to begin with.
It was just one night of fun. That’s all.
“I thought I might find you here,” a deep voice says from the doorway.
I almost groan at the sight of the Prince in well-tailored slacks and a fitted sweater. I remember what he looked like with nothing on, too. Both versions of him are delicious—and both of them are totally off-limits.
“Your Highness,” I say with a nod, choosing not to get up to curtsy.
“We’re back to formal titles, are we?” He arches a brow, padding toward me. He stalks across the room, coming to sit down on the sofa beside me.
I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “The doctor told me they don’t have any morning after pills.”
The Prince grunts. When he doesn’t speak for a few seconds, I turn to glance at him. He’s watching me. “What?”
He shrugs. “Trying to figure you out.”
“Well, if you do, let me know what you find.” I grin, shaking my head. “I’m still working on that myself.”
Clearing his throat, the Prince shifts in his seat. “As I said before, I’ve organized the plane to take you to Stirling as soon as it’s safe. Your grandmother has an apartment there, courtesy of the royal family, and I’m sure she’d appreciate the company while she recovers. I’ve also asked my sister to make an office available to you at the Stirling Castle.”
My mouth hangs open. “You…You what?”
The Prince’s eyebrows tug together. “You do want to see your grandmother, don’t you?”
“Of course. But I didn’t think you would…” I trail off. I didn’t think you’d understand. I didn’t think you’d be kind. I didn’t think you’d care.
“I don’t regret what we did yesterday,” the Prince says, his voice sending heat flowing through my veins.
I gulp, turning back to stare at the flames. “No?”
“Not a bit.”
“Just another notch on your bedpost, I guess.” The logs crackle as the flames climb higher.
The Prince is silent for a beat. “I guess so,” he says quietly. He stands up and heads for the door, closing it softly behind him—no minions needed this time.
My heart squeezes.
