“I’m sorry,” Bridget whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “For what I said at the hospital. I don’t want to marry Steffan, and I don’t—”
“I know.” I skimmed my palm over her back, over heated flesh flowing into cool silk, and another small shiver rippled through her. “I’m sorry for walking out.”
Regret twisted my insides. Our separation had been as much my fault as hers. I should’ve stayed. Fought harder.
Then again, she’d needed the space to sort through her thoughts. Her grandfather’s heart attack had been fresh in her mind, and there’d been no changing her mind that day.
“I thought you weren’t coming.” My hand lingered on the small of her back. “Remind me to kill Markus the next time I see him.”
She released a small laugh. “Done.” Bridget tipped her chin up until her eyes met mine. “I…” She appeared to think better of what she’d been about to say. “How did you get in here? If anyone saw you…”
“They didn’t. Navy SEAL, remember?” I drawled. “I can evade a few palace guards.”
She rolled her eyes, and my mouth twitched at the familiar sight of her amused exasperation. Fuck, I’d missed her. This. Us.
“And Booth?”
“Nearly scared the guy to death when I showed up at his house, but I can be pretty persuasive.” It’d taken less convincing than I thought. According to Booth, Bridget had been in a funk since the hospital, and he’d hoped seeing me would help. He wasn’t stupid—he’d guessed Bridget and I really did have something going on.
Booth could lose his job if someone found out he was smuggling notes from me to Bridget, but he’d taken the risk anyway.
I owed that man a nice, cold beer and a steak dinner in the future.
“I hadn’t expected you to reach out after what happened,” Bridget said. “I thought you were upset with me. I thought…” Her throat flexed with a hard swallow. “You might’ve left.”
“I did. Had to leave the country to get a new visa,” I clarified when her eyebrows shot up. “Six months as a tourist.” I flashed a crooked smile. “Guess I have to get an ‘I Love Eldorra’ T-shirt now.”
The tiniest of smiles crossed her lips. “So, you’re staying for six months?” She sounded both relieved and sad.
Six months was a long time and nowhere long enough.
“No, princess. I’m staying for as long as you’re here.”
Bridget’s eyes flared with delight before her muscles tensed again. “How…why…”
“Let me figure out the how. As for the why…” I pressed her tighter to me. “I’m not leaving you. If you’re in Eldorra, I’m in Eldorra. If you’re in Antarctica, the Sahara, or the middle of the fucking ocean, I’m there. I’m as much yours as you are mine, princess, and a law isn’t keeping me away. I don’t care what a piece of paper says. I’ll burn down the entire fucking Parliament if I have to.”
A thousand emotions passed over her face. “Rhys…”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are. And something must be wrong with me because I’ve never been more touched by the prospect of arson.” Her quick smile faded. “But there’s something I need to tell you. Several things, in fact.”
Wariness filled me at her tone. “Okay.”
“It’s funny you mentioned burning down Parliament. I have an idea…not physically burning it down,” she added hastily when my eyebrows rose. “But a way to repeal the law before Steffan proposes.”
The beast in my chest snarled at his name. Andreas’s plan didn’t solve the short-term problem of Bridget and Steffan’s engagement—and it would be a short-term problem—but I’d deal with it myself. No way in hell would Bridget wear another man’s ring on her finger.
“I don’t know if I can go through with it, though.” A touch of vulnerability entered her eyes. “It’s not exactly aboveboard.”
“What is it?”
Pink tinged Bridget’s cheeks before she straightened and said, “Blackmail the ministers into opening the motion and voting for a repeal.”
Wait one fucking second. “Repeat that.”
She did. “Like I said, it’s not the most aboveboard strategy, but—”
A strangled noise emerged from my throat, cutting her off.
Her brow knit into a frown. “What?”
“Have you been talking to Andreas?” If she hadn’t, it was too ironic for words.
Her frown deepened. “No. Why would I talk to Andreas about this? He wants to steal the crown.”
Not exactly. Andreas and I had spent a fair amount of time together hashing out the plan, and while I still trusted him only as far as I could throw him, I knew he didn’t want the crown. He enjoyed his carefree lifestyle as a prince without responsibilities too much.
“Because he has a similar idea, though his only applies to Erhall, not all of Parliament.” My mouth tipped up. “You always were an overachiever.”
“Why are you talking to…” Bridget’s eyes widened. “You know.”
My surprise mirrored hers. How did she…then it hit me. Her blackmail on Erhall. It must’ve included information about me and Andreas.
But before I said anything, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. I’d been working up to the reveal about my parentage; I didn’t want to just drop the bombshell on her in case I assumed wrong. “I know about Andreas.” I watched her carefully. “That he’s…”
A tense silence vibrated between us.
“Your brother.”
“My brother.”
We spoke at the same time, and there it was. My secret, out in the open.
After thirty-four years of no family except my mother, who’d barely counted as family, it was strange to think I had a brother.
“So, it’s true.” Bridget released a long breath, the vestiges of shock lingering on her face. “How did you find out?”
“Christian did some digging and told me. I confronted Andreas.” I filled her in on what happened at his townhouse, as well as Andreas’s plan to blackmail Erhall with the information about me being his son. Erhall couldn’t afford a scandal ahead of elections, and a long-lost love child fell squarely under “scandal.”
“I’m a little terrified I came up with the same idea as my cousin.” I could see the gears spinning in Bridget’s mind as she digested the information. “How do you know we can trust him?”
“I don’t, but we have leverage. He doesn’t want anyone to find out Erhall is his father, or…”
“…he could lose his royal status,” Bridget finished. “A fate worse than death in his eyes.”
“Yeah.”
The whole situation was so fucked. I hated playing mind games, and we were trapped in the most twisted web of games and one-upmanship possible. I also didn’t love the idea of blackmail, but if that’s what I had to do, I’d do it.
Bridget examined me, those beautiful blue eyes sympathetic. “It must’ve been a shock, learning about Erhall and Andreas. I know you have mixed feelings about your father.”