Page 61 of Throne Off Course

Alexander moved around the table, closing the distance between them. “Thomas won’t betray us.”

“You sound very certain,” she said, unable to keep the doubt from her voice.

“I am,” he replied simply. “He’s been with me since I was seventeen. He’s seen… everything. The good and the bad. And he’s never once wavered.”

Emilia studied him, searching for any hint of uncertainty. “Heseemed almost… protective earlier.”

“He is,” Alexander confirmed. “Of me. And by extension, of what matters to me.” He hesitated, then added, “And apparently, that now includes you.”

The implication of his words hung in the air between them.

“Alexander,” she began, her voice softer now, “even if Thomas helps us, even if we somehow manage to keep this private for a while—it doesn’t change the fundamental reality. You have obligations. Expectations. An entire country watching your every move.”

“I know,” he said, reaching for her hand, his fingers brushing against hers. “But I also know that I’ve spent my entire life doing what was expected of me. Following the path laid out by others. And for what? To end up in an arranged marriage, ruling a country that sees me as a symbol rather than a person?”

His fingers curled around hers, warm and solid. “For once, I want to choose something for myself. Something real.”

Emilia looked down at their joined hands, her heart racing. “This is dangerous.”

“Yes,” he agreed, his voice low and certain. “It is.”

“We could both lose everything.”

“Or,” he countered, “we could gain something worth fighting for.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze. The vulnerability there, the raw honesty—it undid her. This wasn’t the Prince of Caledonia standing before her. This was just Alexander. A man asking her to take a chance on something neither of them fully understood but both desperately wanted.

“I can’t promise you forever,” he said softly. “Not yet. Not witheverything as it is. But I can promise you now. And tomorrow. And every day after that until we figure out what comes next.”

Emilia took a shaky breath, her resolve weakening with every word. “Your mother—”

“—doesn’t need to know. Not yet.”

“And Thomas?”

Alexander’s lips curved into a small smile. “Will help us, in his own way. He understands more than you might think.”

Emilia hesitated, standing at the edge of a precipice. One step forward and there would be no going back. Everything in her rational mind screamed caution, warned her of the inevitable heartbreak. But her heart—her treacherous, hopeful heart—was already reaching for him.

“This is probably the worst decision I’ll ever make,” she whispered.

Alexander’s smile deepened, a hint of that princely confidence returning. “Or the best.”

And then he was kissing her again, but differently this time—not desperate and consuming like before, but tender, reverent, a promise sealed with the gentlest of touches.

When they parted, Emilia kept her eyes closed for a moment, memorizing the feeling. “So,” she murmured, “what happens now?”

“Now,” Alexander said, his voice warm with something that felt dangerously like hope, “we see if Thomas’s talent for discretion extends to secret rendezvous.”

Emilia laughed softly, despite everything. “I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”

Outside in the dimly lit corridor, Thomas Blackwood glanced at his watch, noted the time with military precision, andadded another fifteen minutes to his mental schedule before he would need to remind His Highness of his evening obligations. Some matters, after all, required a certain diplomatic flexibility—even for the most punctual of royal equerries.

28

Secret Affairs and Other Team-Building Exercises

For two people who prided themselves on intelligence, they were making incredibly stupid decisions.