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ill come, too. I know how important she is to you. You would never need to worry about leaving her behind. I will get you the best of the best.” His throat tightened with an emotion he couldn’t name—a storm of emotions. “I will provide our daughter with a life fit for a princess. And also, I’ll provide Joy with the best in-home care she can ever hope to receive.”
“You would do that?” Felicity whispered.
“Yes.” He steeled himself for the final words. “All you need to do is play a role for me, and it’s a simple one. All you need to do is carry on with the charade that we’re in love—and about to be married.”
* * *
A proposal. That’s what it was, though Felicity could hardly wrap her mind around it. Rafael looked down at her, dark eyes serious and yet lit with determination. Nothing about this seemed quite real. He was truly tall, dark, and handsome—and a king, to boot. Felicity felt a little light-headed standing this close to him in her tiny kitchen. She could smell the rich, soapy scent of him in the air.
Felicity shook her head, trying to clear her mind. “Why can’t Hope and I stay where we are?” As soon as the words left her lips, she knew it was a futile question.
“The world knows now that Hope is my daughter,” Rafael said, with no hint of how ridiculous her question was. But it was obvious they couldn’t stay here. Not in this apartment. Maybe not in this city. “And, as the rightful heir to the throne, Hope should be raised in Stolvenia, where she can learn what it means to be queen.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be queen?” Felicity asked, feeling enormously out of her depth.
“Once she’s an adult, she can choose to remove herself from the line of succession,” Rafael said, his voice so smooth and soothing that it almost lulled the anxiety she felt. Almost. “But until she’s of the age where she could make that kind of decision, she needs to come to Stolvenia to…” He raised his hands in the air, as if he was at a loss for any other explanation. “Be an heir. It’s the safest, and smartest, decision. And you’ll need security, too—security you’ll have in the palace. You can’t hide forever. Not anymore.”
Felicity felt the blush fly to her cheeks. “Security for me? I’m no one.”
“Anyone I marry will no longer be a private citizen.”
Despite the fact that she felt like swooning, the marriage proposal brought her up short. “But…why? I know I’m saying that over and over, but why do we need to get married? We don’t even—I left, and—”
“Because I need to stabilize my country.” When Rafael spoke about Stolvenia, he seemed an inch taller, more solemn, more kingly. “The people threatening the monarchy—I don’t think they’re suited to take over leadership. I can’t allow them to throw the country into chaos, so I need the people to rally behind me as their king. And while the opposition meant for this to undermine my position, it’s backfired on them. People are fascinated by the story of our romance. If we give them a love story with a happily ever after, they’ll stand behind us. The referendum will fail. My throne—and Hope’s—will stay secure.”
It was strange, the combination of disappointment and relief Felicity felt. She’d half expected him to say the reason they should marry was because he had never stopped loving her, every single day since she left, and it was tearing him apart to be without her. But of course Rafael wouldn’t say that. Rafael was the king.
“Do you see why I need to keep this process moving, at least until the referendum is decided?” He raised a hand and ran it over his hair. “I promise, it’ll benefit us both.” He took a step back, eyes catching on the pile of bills in the corner of the counter. Felicity kept them all in the same place, telling herself that they couldn’t take over her thoughts if they were relegated to one corner of the apartment. “All your financial burdens would be erased.”
Hot shame flooded her face, and Felicity flinched back. “I’m doing just fine, you know. I don’t need a bailout from the country of Stolvenia. I don’t need a palace. Or you. I’m doing fine.”
“Not anymore,” Rafael said softly. In the pause after his words, she could hear the shouts of reporters outside. They were getting louder again. And what he’d said was true. How could she keep her family safe if they stayed here, now that the secret was out?
“No,” she admitted. “Not anymore.”
“You still look beautiful,” he said, his voice low. “But I can tell that you’re tired, Felicity. In Stolvenia, you wouldn’t have to work. Your whole world could revolve around Hope and Joy and whatever personal projects you choose to pursue. Would you…like that?” He seemed suddenly tentative. “Would that be enough for you?”
It sounded like a wonderful dream, but something that couldn’t be her reality. Still, the questions rose in her mind. “How far would we have to take it?” she asked. “Our fake relationship—how far would it extend into our…personal lives?”
“The courtship and marriage would be for the public only.” He sounded definitive. “Behind closed doors, there would be no expectation of romance. Once the referendum is over, we can live mostly separate lives. Of course, you would be entitled to all the same benefits and lifestyle. I would never displace you.”
She looked into his eyes then, and for all the steadiness in his voice, Felicity was sure he felt more than he was letting on.
After a moment, Rafael looked away.
In the living room, Hope giggled as Joy sang a nonsense song in her silliest voice.
Outside, the noise from the crowd of reporters rose. It sounded like more of them had shown up. No surprises there—Rafael wouldn’t have come in an inconspicuous vehicle.
Felicity looked back up into Rafael’s eyes. “I’ll do it.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You will?”
“I’ll do anything to get out of here.” Decision made, she released a heavy breath and stood up tall. “How soon can we leave?”
3
It was what she’d been afraid of all this time.
