Page 60 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

But I should have talked to him. Should have given him time. Instead, I made a knee-jerk decision I’ve been regretting almost since the moment he walked out of the guesthouse and into the limo that whisked him away from me.

I know he’ll come back eventually. I don’t doubt his commitment to being a father. But whether or not we can recapture any of the magic we discovered is a question I’m afraid to ask.

The door creaks open. I glance over my shoulder, surprised when my mother walks in. I’m too tired to feign my usual indifference.

“I thought I might find you here.”

“Just resting for a moment.”

Mother walks over and sits in the wingback chair across from me. “I owe you an apology.”

Surprised, I sit up. “For what?”

Her laugh is strained, broken. “Where to start?” She stands again and paces over to one of the windows, crossing her arms as she stares out at the gardens. “I once loved a man. Before your father.”

The pain in her voice shocks me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her display any emotion to that depth aside from the loathing she feels for him.

“But when your father approached me and told me about the arrangement with his family, I did my duty. I hoped love would come in time.” Her throat bobs as she swallows hard. “When it didn’t, even after I gave him a son and a daughter, it turned me cold and bitter.”

She turns back. There’s no mask, no smooth aloofness. Just a deep sadness.

“I always saw him when I looked at you.” Tears well in her eyes. “I should have been looking at you all along.”

My own eyes start to burn. “Mother…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you love. I thought if I held back, if I made you strong, then you wouldn’t suffer the pain I did—first from the man I thought I’d spend my life with, and then from not being loved by your father. Instead, I hurt you. Over and over again.”

I’m not going to say it’s okay. Nothing will ever make the years of distance and coldness okay. But a part of the armor I forged in my early years living in this palace cracks. Just a small one. Enough to let in the possibility of something I never imagined would happen.

“I know what it’s like to have your heart broken.” Mother’s smile is sad. “I know you loved him.”

“I do. But I’m so afraid this life is going to crush him.”

“He’s a strong man. If he chooses you, you need to respect his choice. Don’t make my mistake.” Her voice lowers. “I don’t want him to resent you the way your father and I resent each other. I haven’t seen much of Dominic, but what I have seen…” She smiles faintly. “I believe he loves you.” She crosses to me, kneels before me. Tentatively, she lays a hand over mine. My throat tightens. “What do you want? Not as princess, not as queen. Just Sophaya.”

The answer is instant, so clear. “I want to be with Dominic.”

Her hand tightens over mine. “Then that’s what you should do.”

The same urge I felt that night in Venice—to get out, to do something wild and reckless—seizes me again. I stand. Mother rises with me.

“I need to go to New York. But I have a couple of meetings this afternoon, and several tomorrow.” The words stick on my tongue, but then I force them out. “Can you cover for me?”

“Yes.”

I hesitate. “Why are you being so kind to me?”

“When Dominic showed up, I realized it was the first time I could recall seeing you happy in private since your grandparents died. It showed me how responsible I’ve been for your unhappiness.” She reaches up and places a hand on my cheek. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But in time, if you can see that I’m genuine about wanting to change and make things right, I’d like to try to be a better mother to you before it’s too late.” Her eyes drop down to my stomach, emotion glinting in the depths. “And a grandmother to my grandchild. If you’re comfortable with that.”

Years of pain well up inside me; long nights, lonely days. But as I look at my mother, at a face so much like my own, I realize I want to try. Not just with Dominic but with the rest of my life. My mother. My role as future queen.

Even if Dominic and I don’t figure things out, knowing I have someone to turn to, to talk to, already makes me feel stronger.

I give in and hug my mother.

She freezes, then hugs me back.

“It’s going to take some time.” I squeeze tighter. “But I want to try.”