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He grins at me. “I know how a man acts when his attention is on a beautiful girl.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “She is… a friend.”
He nods, then pauses, as if waiting for more. I think I won’t give it to him, and then suddenly I find myself spilling.
“A friend,” I repeat. “But I wish her to be more.”
“I thought so.” He straightens up. “And do you have a chance with her?”
I drop my gaze to my desk. “The chances are most likely close to zero.”
“What did you do wrong?”
“I…” My hands curl into fists. “It’s a situation that is out of my control.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I assume you are saying it has something to do with your royal title.”
I glance up at him. “Yes.”
And more than that.
“Hmm.” He nods, watching me.
I lick my lips, considering. I had been prepared to take what happened between Courtney and myself to the grave, but suddenly I can’t do it any longer. I crack.
“What if,” I venture, carefully watching his face, “there was someone — a woman — that our parents wouldn’t approve of? What wouldyoudo?”
Oliver leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “If she was the one for me, I’d climb mountains, cross oceans, defy gravity itself. Why let anyone else decide who you love?”
I don’t know how to respond. The words shake me. “I…”
He’s right. What have I been doing?
I hope to be king one day, and that means my choices carry weight far beyond my personal happiness. But if I am not happy, then how can I properly lead?
“Thank you, Oliver.” I straighten up and nod at him. “I appreciate your insight.”
The rest of the afternoon passes in a haze. I’m stuck in my head, thinking about Courtney and where to go from here.
Does she hate me for everything that’s happened? It’s hard to believe that. Despite some moments of coldness, there has also been a lot of warmth between us. Secret looks, shared smiles.
If I’m correct, then that connection we made on the first day is still there, bubbling just below the surface, waiting for an opportunity to be allowed to boil over.
I can’t return to Courtney’s hotel fast enough. Seeing her step outside, her hair pinned back, her skirt billowing around herlegs, does something to me. Blows me apart into a million little pieces and puts me back together, a fresh man.
The sun dips low, casting a warm, golden hue over the hills as I drive along the winding country road. Courtney sits beside me, her profile serene against the backdrop of the picturesque mountains. I can’t help but steal glances at her, wondering how I got so lucky as to be here with her this evening.
As we pull up to the secluded restaurant, its lights twinkling like earthbound stars, Courtney’s gasp is music to my ears. I’ve rented the whole establishment, ensuring privacy and an intimate atmosphere. She looks at me, eyes wide with wonder, and I feel a surge of satisfaction knowing I’ve managed to surprise her.
“Jakob, this is incredible,” she breathes out as we step inside.
The maître d’ greets us with a bow, ushering us to a table with panoramic views.
Throughout dinner, we talk about everything and nothing — art, history, the quirks of Bergovian culture. With each shared laugh and lingering look, I can feel the walls around my heart crumbling. Courtney is intelligent, passionate, and her laughter is a sound I want to capture and keep forever.
I can no longer tell myself our time together is just about righting wrongs, about keeping an eye on her for my father. It’s become so much more than that. Or perhaps it always has been, from the very moment I set my gaze on her.
I’m falling for her. Harder than I have ever fallen in my life.