Page 158 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

Astrid stared out at the palace courtyard, wishing it were snowing, instead of the crisp blue sky and weak winter sunshine that made a mockery of her mood. Three weeks into the New Year and if anything, her sense of loss was growing sharper day by day.

Speculation about Javier, and her potential marriage, was everywhere, despite the photos that had emerged of him with another woman. How many women had there been since?

They’d never really talked about his dating history, but somehow she just knew that he wasn’t someone who struggled to pick up women. He’d probably been with several since her. Maybe he was even laughing at himself, for imagining that he could give up his life and move to Norvenheim to be her king?

Her stomach rolled at that, because when she thought of Javier at her side, ruling with her, all of the fear she felt about performing these duties dissipated. In Javier, she truly felt as though she would have had an equal, someone who could help carry the burdens of her responsibility. Someone who would genuinely ease them.

A tear slid down her cheek, as they so often did. She pulled her necklace from beneath her dress, to hold it in the fist of her palm. She’d threaded the butterfly backs of the earrings through the chain, so she could wear the earrings every day and not have it be noticed. So much of her life was commented upon, but these were hers and hers alone. A talisman and reminder of something special he’d done for her. Worn as they were, beneath her clothes, she was able to keep him close to her chest. Her heart.

Another tear slid down and she didn’t stop to check it. There was no point. She knew what she was up against. While she was able to fake serenity for a short period of time, when she was alone in her room she gave into the grief.

She accepted it and could only hope that, in time, she’d make her peace with it. Or at least learn to live with it. Just as she had the loss of her family. She’d never gotten over that loss. It was a part of her and she was glad for that. Holding onto grief was a way of proving love. And now, she had the loss of Javier to prove to her that she had loved him. He hadn’t been imagining it and nor had she. What they’d shared had been truly, beautifully real. And she’d ruined it.

A knock sounded, interrupting her gloom, forcing her to assume at least a mask of calm. She wiped both cheeks quickly and stood.

‘Who is it?’ she called, although she knew that it must be Anja.

‘It’s me, Your Majesty,’ Anja replied.

Anja had seen behind the curtain. She knew what Astrid was going through, even though Astrid had tried to hide it. She’d locked her heart away, trying to stave off this awful pain and yet love had crept in regardless.

‘Come in.’

Anja stepped into the apartment and pretended not to notice the queen’s obvious distress.

‘I’m so sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. I know today is marked as a private day, with no appointments, but—’

‘I need the day,’ she said, more sharply than she’d intended.

‘Of course, Your Majesty. It’s only—he’s here.’

He’s here.

There was only one man Anja could be referring to. Astrid stared, her jaw dropping, her heart kicking up. She shook her head, the panic gripping her. Fear, too.

‘He’s asked for an appointment. I told him I wasn’t sure—I didn’t know what to say, to be honest. If you’ll forgive me for offering an opinion when none has been requested, I do really think you need to speak to him, ma’am.’

Astrid closed her eyes, swaying slightly. Anja was right. She needed to speak to him. That was exactly it. Not ‘ought to’, but ‘needed to’. As in, with her dying breath, she absolutely had to see him, to speak to him.

‘Yes,’ she said on a rush. ‘Send him up.’

‘Here?’ Anja asked, then quickly backed towards the door. ‘Yes, of course, Your Majesty. He’ll be here shortly.’

Astrid paced from one side of the room to the other, catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror and blanching at the sight she made. She looked terrible. Hair wild, face pale and blotchy, wearing a simple pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, with bare feet and no make-up. There was nothing to be done, though. She didn’t have time to change, but she could at least finger comb her hair over one shoulder and pinch her cheeks to bring some colour to them.

And then, she waited, until a moment later, a knock sounded.

This time, it was not Anja, but the man who’d become a piece of her. Who she had been missing and craving with every part of her.

Javier.

Only, she had to remind herself, he was no longer hers. Perhaps he never had been, despite what he’d said.

He strode into the room looking every bit as perfect as always and her gut rolled. It was like looking at a mirror covered in broken glass. In the past, she would have walked right into his arms and had that feeling of having come home. Now, she stood where she was, arms wrapped around her torso to physically keep the distance.

‘Your Majesty,’ he said, dipping his head in an act of deference that physically hurt. Not from him. Never from him.

‘Don’t do that,’ she said, quickly. ‘You don’t bow to me.’