Greg sprinted down the palace corridor. His father’s final words still echoed in his ears…
"So be it. You've brought this upon yourself."
The threat hadn't frightened him nearly as much as the realization that he'd broken his promise to Aziza. He had told her he'd be waiting. Instead, she just might end up walking out of the room alone.
Pushing open the tall double doors, he reached the parlor to find it nearly empty. Only a servant remained, quietly straightening a tea table.
Greg's heart sank.
"They've already gone?" he asked.
The young maid bowed, "Yes, Your Highness."
He thanked her before turning back into the corridor. There was only one place she would go… his apartments. He hurried through the palace, barely acknowledging the servants who stepped respectfully aside.
Please be there. Please don't think I abandoned you.
A few moments later he entered the apartments. The sitting room was quiet, and for one alarming second he thought she'd left again. Then, he heard the soft murmur of her voice coming from his bedroom.
"I love you too. I'll call again tomorrow."
Silence.
The call must have ended.
Aziza stood near one of the windows, her cell phone still in her hand. She looked tired, emotionally drained, yet somehow relieved after speaking with her family. She looked up, and their eyes met.
"Greg…"
He didn't let her finish. Crossing the room in a few long strides, he wrapped both arms around her. She stiffened, as she fumbled slightly with her phone. For a brief moment she simply stood there, frozen.
Greg closed his eyes. He hadn't realized how tightly his chest had been wound until now. The anger from his father's threats and fear that Aziza might think he’d chosen to leave her. The worry that she might no longer trust him. It all seemed to loosen slightly as he held her.
"I'm sorry," he said.
He felt her hesitate, yet she wasn't pulling away. She simply seemed too surprised to know what to do. He couldn't blame her. He'd never been this openly affectionate with her before. Not while they were both sober at least.
After several long moments, he felt her slowly relax. Tentatively and almost shyly, her arms came around his waist. Greg let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
She was hugging him back.
Neither of them spoke, allowing the silence to linger between them. It wasn't awkward, but comforting. Eventually Aziza smiled softly against his shoulder.
"I take it your conversation didn't go well."
A small laugh escaped him, "You could say that."
She leaned back enough to look at him, "I was beginning to wonder where you went."
"I figured you might." he looked at her, his eyebrows knitting together. "I told you I'd wait and I meant to. However, my father stopped me."
Aziza's expression softened, "I figured something must have happened."
Greg shook his head. "I should've found a way. I'm sorry."
She gave him a reassuring smile, "It's okay. I made it back. One of the servants helped me find the room again."
“I’m grateful for that,” Greg chuckled quietly.
"So am I."
They reluctantly stepped apart, though Greg noticed neither of them moved very far away. It felt… natural standing beside her. Comfortable. Almost as though they'd been doing this for years.
"So..." Aziza said gently. "What happened?"
Greg sighed, "My father tried convincing me to agree to an annulment."
"I'm guessing you told him no."
"I did," he said, giving a humorless smile. “He started as my father. Then, he became my king."
Aziza frowned, "What does that mean? Did he… did he threaten you?"
Nodding, he said, "He told me there would be… consequences."
"What kind?"
Greg shrugged, "Loss of titles and possibly removal from the line of succession. Maybe even exile."
He wasn’t about to tell her that it could be worse than that. She already had enough to worry about, plus he didn't want to scare her away. If that were to happen, then the King would truly win.
Aziza stared at him, "Yet, you still said no?"
"I did."
She looked down for a moment. "You shouldn't have to lose everything because of me."
“I’m not losing everything,” Greg cupped her face, as his eyes met hers, "I'm protecting what's important."
What was he saying? Even though he admitted to his father that he was in love with Aziza, this was not the time to express those feelings to her. He wasn’t even sure if she felt the same way. If he came on too strong, she might just…
A light pink washed across her face, her eyes widening. She looked the way he felt.
"So..." he said, changing the subject before either of them became too embarrassed. "How was your conversation with my mother?"
Aziza shook her head, sighing softly, "About what you'd expect. She told me I wasn't suited for royal life."
Greg frowned, "I'm sorry."
"Oh… she wasn't cruel. Just… very clear."
“That sounds like Mother,” Greg nodded.
Aziza continued, "She listed everything a princess has to do, from public appearances to protocol and everything in between. Then, she asked if I really thought I could do all of it."
"And?"
She smiled faintly, "I told her yes."
Greg couldn't help smiling, "That's my wife."
She looked away, quiet for a moment, as the pink in her face deepened to rouge. "I don't know if I can, but I'm willing to learn."
His smile widened, "That's exactly why I think you can."
"Yeah, well… afterward I came back here. I saw that my phone was charged and I ended up talking with Lacy and Jessica.”
Greg sat down on the edge of the bed, as she explained how shocked her roommates were to learn of their marriage and the fact that he was a prince. He chuckled just imagining their reactions; however, there was something off about her story. As though there was something that she wasn’t telling him.
He listened quietly. Then, he said, "I'm glad they have your back."
"They do," she smiled, sitting next to him. "Though, they're a little dramatic."
"A little?"
She laughed, "Okay… very."
It was wonderful to hear her laugh, but she became thoughtful way too soon.
"I… I also called my parents." she said, looking down at the floor.
Why did that seem like she wanted to say something else?
"How'd that go?"
"Better than I expected. They were definitely shocked."
"I imagine so."
"They had about a thousand questions."
"As expected."
"However, they were mostly worried."
Greg nodded, "That's understandable."
"But..." A smile slowly returned to her face. "They'd like to meet you. They asked if you'd come to dinner whenever everything settles down."
Greg blinked, "They invited me?"
His expression softened, "I'd love that. I really would." Glancing toward the window, his smile faded. "Though, it may be a while. Things here are… complicated."
"I know."
"But I'll make it happen as soon as I can." He looked back at Aziza, placing his hand over hers, "They're important to you. So they're important to me."
Aziza smiled warmly, "Thank you."
A comfortable silence settled between them.
"Oh, can I ask you something?" she asked, bouncing slightly as she turned towards him.
"Anything."
"Why does everyone keep calling you Alexander?"
He chuckled, "I wondered when you'd ask again."
"I've been confused all day."
Smiling, he said, "Well, my first name is Alexander."
She blinked, "It is?"
Nodding, he continued, "Alexander Gregory Wallace Percy Kinsington the Third. My father is Alexander and so is my older brother, the Crown Prince. I'm Alexander the third. When my brother is not around, I'm Prince Alexander, but when he is, I'm Prince Alexander Gregory."
He shrugged, "It keeps things less confusing."
Aziza laughed, "I wasn't even thinking about that part. I was too distracted by the other four names."
“They're a bit much,” Greg grinned.
"A bit?" She shook her head with a laugh. "And I thought my parents liked long names."
Another quiet moment passed. Then, without thinking, she smiled teasingly.
"Well… just know that our child will not be the Fourth."
Silence.
What had she said?
The words hung in the air, as they both froze. Greg stared at her as her eyes slowly widened.
“I…” color flooded her face. "I didn't… I mean..."
She began waving her hands frantically, as she quickly stood. "I wasn't saying…"
Greg still didn’t know what to say. Surely, she didn’t mean what he thought she was saying.
"I just meant..." she backed away from him, still waving her hands. "I mean if…"
She covered her face. "Oh goodness. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I said that."
“I think the jet lag has officially affected my brain,” she laughed nervously.
Greg finally found his voice. "Our...child?"
"I know!" she groaned. "I heard it after I said it. I wasn't trying to…"
Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. "I need..." She pointed vaguely toward the hallway. "to freshen up before dinner. Yes. The restroom. I'm going there now."
Without waiting for another second, she hurried toward the bathroom.
Bang!
She closed the door a little harder than Greg expected and he wondered if she thought the same. He stood alone in the sitting room, in total silence.
Then, a slow smile spread across his face. "Our child..."
He repeated the words quietly. His heart should have been focused on his father's threats, but at the moment he couldn’t care less. Not on the looming battle with the Crown, Lady Margaret or the scandal waiting outside the palace walls. Instead, he couldn't stop thinking about one absent-minded comment.
He laughed softly to himself. She had clearly misspoken and it was obvious with the way she'd been embarrassed beyond belief. Yet… for just one impossible moment the idea hadn't frightened him. Quite the opposite. It had filled him with a warmth he couldn't explain.
His smile grew wider. Somewhere between Las Vegas… the flight to Valoria, and today… his feelings had changed.
What had once been a long-hidden crush on his quiet, kind study partner had become something much deeper. He hadn't simply fallen for Aziza, he was falling in love with his wife. Now, for the first time since returning to Valoria, that realization gave him hope.