Two days.
That was how long it had been since Greg had last had a proper, uninterrupted stretch of time with Aziza. It was not that he hadn't seen her; he saw her constantly. It was just never for long enough.
Her days had become a whirlwind of princess lessons from etiquette, to royal history, to protocol, and to enough rules about posture to make Greg grateful he'd never been forced to take the lessons all at once himself. His royal lessons had at least been stretched out through all his years growing up in the palace.
As far as his own past two days, they had become equally crowded. Since his father had assigned him the Bellmerian negotiations, Greg had spent nearly every waking hour buried beneath reports, trade agreements, economic projections, diplomatic correspondence, and enough legal language to make his head hurt. He had discovered that preparing for a diplomatic meeting was considerably less glamorous than the palace made it appear. All of that was for the cameras. The real work was mostly filled with documents. Lots and lots of documents.
Greg hated that his work had consumed the very time he'd wanted to spend with Aziza. They had to steal moments wherever they could, like having breakfast together when their schedules allowed it. Sometimes it was a few minutes in the hallway between lessons or a quick conversation while Aziza changed for another appointment. He even managed to catch her before dinner, and other times they would sit together for fifteen minutes and talk about absolutely nothing.
Those moments had become precious to him, and frustrating all at the same time. Fifteen minutes just wasn't enough. It was even worse at night. By the time Greg finished working in his office, Aziza was usually already asleep. More than once, he'd quietly opened the door to his apartments after midnight, only to see the light beneath her bedroom door and realize she had gone to bed hours earlier.
He missed her and he hadn't expected that, especially when she was only a few rooms away.
That’s why he was glad that the Bellmerian representative was finally arriving. If he could get through today's meeting, perhaps his schedule would loosen and he could take Aziza into the city. He wanted to show her the markets and gardens. Maybe even take her somewhere without an escort trailing six feet behind them. He smiled at the thought just before the doors to the palace's receiving hall opened.
Greg straightened and immediately his entire body went still.
“Margaret?”
“Alexander,” Lady Margaret Talia Evensworth smiled.
Greg's stomach dropped. This was Bellmerian’s representative? He was expecting someone more experienced in international trade negotiations. Someone whose name he hadn't been given. He wasn't expecting the tall and elegant woman who stepped through the doorway. She was impeccably dressed and her dark hair was swept neatly away from her face. She had perfect posture and composure, with a familiar expression. He knew that face. He'd known it for years.
Of course, now everything made sense. The secrecy, the insistence that Greg personally handle the negotiations, and his father's refusal to tell him who was coming. Of course his father had done this. It hadn't merely been about diplomacy. It had been his first move.
Margaret approached, extending her hand. Greg took it because refusing would have been unnecessarily rude.
“It has been a long time,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“Not long enough, apparently.”
Her smile faltered for half a second, causing Greg to immediately regret the remark. Margaret had never personally done anything to him. She had simply been raised in a world where people had already decided their futures for them. His parents had certainly encouraged that idea.
“I heard about your marriage,” she said.
Greg's expression tightened, “I imagine you did. We put out a statement about it two days ago. In fact, our first interview as husband and wife will air tonight.”
“You ruined everything.”
Greg blinked, “Excuse me?”
“Our arrangement.”
“We never had an arrangement.”
Margaret looked genuinely surprised. “Our families have discussed our future for years.”
“Discussed,” Greg repeated. “That's not the same thing as an established betrothal.”
Her lips pressed together. “You knew what was expected.”
“I knew what my parents wanted,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “But wanting something for me doesn't make it my decision.”
Margaret looked away briefly.
Greg felt a pang of guilt.
She had clearly believed something different. Perhaps, she had been told the same story he'd been told, only from the other side. Still, he wasn't going to let his father use a diplomatic negotiation to reopen a conversation he'd already ended.
Gesturing toward the corridor, he said, “We should discuss Bellmere.”
Margaret nodded, as they entered one of the smaller conference rooms.
“Yes. We should.”
The first meeting was exactly what Greg expected a preliminary diplomatic meeting to be. It was formal, careful, and polite. Neither of them made demands nor revealed their strongest position. They reviewed the disputed shipping agreement and discussed the tariffs Bellmere wanted adjusted. Greg presented Valoria's concerns, and Margaret countered with Bellmere's position. He made a small concession, while she offered one in return. It wasn’t dramatic and nothing was finalized. However, enough was established to show where each side stood.
“Your government wants unrestricted access to the eastern port,” Greg said, looking over one of the documents.
“Temporary unrestricted access,” she pointed out.
“During peak shipping season?”
“Yes.”
“That would place considerable pressure on Valorian customs.”
Margaret leaned back slightly, “And Bellmere believes Valoria can manage it.”
Greg almost smiled, “There it is.”
“What?”
“The part where you stop being polite.”
She smiled, “You haven't seen me stop being polite.”
“I'm beginning to remember why I enjoyed arguing with you.”
Her expression softened, “And I remember why I enjoyed arguing with you.”
For one brief moment, they were simply two old acquaintances. Then, the moment passed and they returned to the paperwork.
After another twenty minutes, Greg closed the folder, “I think that's enough for today.”
Margaret nodded, “Our governments can review the preliminary positions.”
“Then we'll meet again.”
“Yes.”
Greg stood, “I'll escort you out.”
They walked through the palace together. Greg tried not to think about the obvious question. Where was she staying? Though, he didn't have to ask. Margaret answered before they reached the entrance.
“Your father has been very gracious.”
Greg's eyebrows rose, “He has?”
“He offered me a guest suite here at the palace.”
Greg stopped walking. There it was.
Another move.
Another carefully placed piece.
His father hadn't simply brought Margaret into Valoria. He'd brought her into the palace. Into Greg's home and Aziza's new life.
Greg forced a neutral expression, “I'm sure my father was pleased to make the offer.”
“He was,” Margaret smiled.
“Well, then I guess you’ll be here for supper as well,” Greg nodded.
“Yes, I guess so,” she agreed.
They reached the receiving hall again, where one of the maid servants was waiting for them. Greg was preparing to step back when Margaret suddenly moved toward him. She wrapped her arms around him in a familiar greeting, and before Greg could react, she kissed his cheek.
“Until this evening, Alexander.”
Greg froze.
Not because the gesture meant anything to him. It didn't. However, there was no mistake that he heard footsteps behind them. When he turned his head, he saw Aziza and Daphne standing just beyond the doorway of one of the palace's smaller parlor rooms beside her. Both were laughing and then stopped.
They had apparently just finished one of Aziza's lessons, which Daphne had been helping her with some of the more complicated royal customs that morning, and judging by the stack of lesson materials tucked beneath Aziza's arm, Greg suspected they had spent considerably longer at it than either of them had intended.
Greg's heart dropped.
For one horrible second, he couldn’t move, which wasn’t good since Margaret was still embracing him. He had been preparing to say goodbye to her, perhaps exchange a few more polite words before she retired to the guest suite his father had so conveniently offered. Now Greg had an entirely different problem.
Oh, no.
He knew that look.
Aziza's smile disappeared and he suddenly wished he'd had the ability to turn back time. It wasn't anger… not yet, anyway. It was surprise mixed with confusion, and perhaps a little hurt. There was also something else he couldn’t immediately identify.
For one awful moment, Greg wondered whether her mind had immediately gone somewhere he didn't want it to go.
Travis.
The name surfaced before he could stop it.
Aziza had already endured enough because of her former boyfriend. She had been betrayed by someone she'd trusted, only to wake up days later married to another man and discover that the entire world was suddenly watching her. Now she had walked into the hall only to see another woman hugging and kissing her husband.
Greg could hardly blame her if Travis' betrayal had flashed through her mind. He needed to fix this.
Immediately.
He stepped away from Margaret. “Aziza.”
Her eyes remained on him.
He crossed the room, “Hey.”
“Hi.”
The single word was polite… too polite.
Oh… I’m in trouble now, he thought.
He knew Aziza well enough now to recognize the difference between her genuine warmth and the careful politeness she used when she wasn't sure what to say. He reached her and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened for half a second, before relaxing against him.
Greg kissed her cheek, “There you are. I was about to come look for you.”
“Clearly,” she said, gesturing toward Margaret.
He winced, then quickly smiled. He hoped that it looked natural enough to cover up his initial reaction.
Please don't misunderstand this.
“We were just finishing the Bellmerian meeting,” he explained.
Aziza glanced past him, eyes wide, “At the entrance?”
Greg swallowed, “Yes.”
Her gaze shifted toward Margaret, “And... with her?”
“Yes,” he said. He was making this worse. “She was actually just saying goodbye.”
Aziza's eyes moved briefly to the spot on his cheek where Margaret's kiss had landed. Greg wanted to wipe it away, although that would probably make the situation even more suspicious.
“It wasn't…” he stopped.
There was no explanation he could give that wouldn't sound ridiculous if he wasn't careful.
Fortunately, Daphne stepped forward, breaking him out of his paralyzed state. Her expression was considerably easier to read. She was glaring at Margaret, then at Greg, and then back at Margaret.
Greg knew that look too.
Wonderful.
He turned toward the women, “Aziza, this is Lady Margaret Talia Evensworth.”
Aziza's eyebrows rose.
“Margaret?”
“Yes.”
She had already forgot her lessons on proper greeting etiquette, especially when addressing nobility. Of course, he was not about to point that out to his wife.
Greg gestured toward Margaret, “She is the representative from Bellmere.”
Aziza's surprise was immediate, “She is?”
Margaret gave a graceful nod, “I am.”
Aziza looked from Margaret to him. He could almost see the pieces falling into place in her mind. Two days of him preparing for a mysterious Bellmerian representative. Then, Margaret's sudden appearance. Now the revelation that she wasn't simply a woman from the royal family's social circle. She was the person he had spent two days preparing to negotiate with.
Aziza seemed genuinely caught off guard. Greg couldn't blame her. He had been shocked too.
Margaret smiled, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess Aziza.”
Aziza returned the smile, “Likewise.”
Greg watched both women carefully. Margaret's expression was perfectly composed, while Aziza's was pleasant. Although, he could still detect the uncertainty beneath it.
Margaret turned toward Daphne, “Princess Daphne.”
Daphne smiled. It was an innocent smile to any outsider, but he knew his sister well enough to see the venom in it.
“Lady Margaret,” Daphne replied. “How lovely to finally see you again. It’s been awfully too soon that you graced us with your presence.”
Greg's eyebrows shot upward. Though, Daphne continued smiling.
Anyone listening casually might have thought she'd offered a compliment. However, he knew better.
Margaret's smile tightened, “I've had the pleasure of knowing the Kinsington family for many years. So, it’s only natural that I come to visit.”
“I'm sure you think so,” Daphne replied pleasantly.
Greg almost groaned. He loved his sister, but he also knew she was enjoying this far too much.
Margaret turned back toward Aziza, “Princess Aziza, I was beginning to think you were a figment of Greg's imagination.”
Greg's eyes widened.
There it was. He had a feeling this conversation was about to go somewhere dangerous.
Aziza smiled sweetly, “Likewise, though it just seemed like you were more of a myth around here.”
Silence.
Greg stared at his wife, then glanced at his sister.
Daphne's lips twitched. She looked down, clearly trying to contain herself. Her shoulders moved once and he realized she was laughing.
Margaret, meanwhile, looked genuinely stunned for perhaps the first time since he had known her. Her carefully controlled expression slipped. Her eyes widened as her lips parted. Then, she recovered herself almost immediately, lifting her chin and smoothing her expression into something appropriately dignified.
Greg had to fight the urge to smile.
Aziza.
He couldn't decide whether he was impressed or terrified. If he was being honest with himself it would probably be both. He glanced at his wife. She looked completely innocent. There was even the faintest smile on her face, but Greg knew better. Aziza wasn't cruel. She hadn't intended to humiliate Margaret. However, she wasn't going to stand there quietly and allow herself to be treated as though she'd somehow stolen a position that had belonged to someone else. Greg couldn't help admiring her for it.
Still, he had to defuse the situation before Daphne said something even worse.
“Well,” he said quickly.
All three women looked at him. This would prove to be more difficult than he thought.
“I'm sure everyone is exhausted after traveling, and lessons.”
Daphne's eyes sparkled, but Greg ignored her.
“We'll have plenty of time for everyone to get acquainted later.”
Margaret gave him a restrained smile, “Of course.”
Greg reached for Aziza's hand, “But right now, I need to discuss something with my wife.”
Aziza looked up at him. There was still a trace of uncertainty in her eyes. Greg squeezed her hand gently. He hoped the gesture told her everything his words hadn't yet managed to.
There is nothing between Margaret and me.
He wished he could say it aloud without making the entire situation more awkward.
Instead, he simply smiled at her, “Come on.” Turning toward Daphne, he said, “You can come too.”
“Gladly.”
Greg sighed.
Of course she was coming. The three of them began walking toward the stairs, glancing back once. Margaret was still standing near the entrance. Her expression was composed again, but he could tell she was thinking. So was he. His father had brought Margaret into the palace. Had arranged for her to represent Bellmere. Had given her a guest suite.
Now, Aziza had met her under the worst possible circumstances. Greg looked at Aziza beside him.
She was quiet.
Too quiet.
His thoughts immediately returned to Travis. He wondered if she was comparing this moment to the pain she'd experienced before. He wondered if seeing another woman kiss him had made her question whether she could trust him. The thought made his chest tighten. He didn't want her carrying that fear because of something that meant absolutely nothing to him.
He tightened his hold on her hand. Aziza glanced at him and he smiled. She gave him a small smile in return. Yet, it wasn't quite enough to tell him what she was thinking. However, it was something. They reached the top of the stairs, with Daphne following behind them.
Greg looked over his shoulder at his sister. She gave him an exaggeratedly innocent smile. He narrowed his eyes at her. She only smiled wider. Greg shook his head. His father had clearly intended Margaret's arrival to complicate his marriage. He had succeeded.
But as Greg looked at Aziza again, he realized something else. If his father thought Margaret's presence would make him reconsider his marriage, he had badly underestimated his son. He had spent years running from the life his family had chosen for him. He wasn't going to let them choose his wife, too.