Page 44 of A Queen's Match

“I am leaving,” she declared, and this time Nicholas didn’t try to change her mind.

As she stumbled out into the hallway, wiping at her face, Alix hurt so acutely that she felt like she would die. But of course she knew better. You couldn’t actually die from a broken heart.

You just had to live with the pain of it.

Later that night, when shewas finally back in her room at Osborne House, Alix stared up at the green canopy overher bed. She couldn’t sleep. She had cried so hard her pillow seemed to be drowning in tears—knowing that on a yacht in the harbor, bobbing on the waves, Hélène was doing the very same thing. If only she could go see Hélène, find some comfort in their shared pain.

Instead Alix slipped out of bed, pulled on a silk dressing gown, and padded into the hallway.

Prince Ernest of Hesse,read the card a few doors down. She knocked.

An instant later the door swung open, revealing her brother, his own dressing gown tied at the waist. “Alix,” he breathed, lowering the gas lamp he held. “It’s you.”

“You were expecting Johann?”

Ernie flinched and tried to shut the door in her face, but Alix held out a hand to prop it open.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all day, Ernie!”

He let out a breath. “Whatever you thought you saw, you were mistaken.”

“Please, don’t shut me out! We have already been through so much together.” Losing their mother. Losing Frittie. “Whatever is happening, let me be part of it.”

Ernie hesitated, his eyes traveling over her face. “Have you been crying?”

“Only as much as you’ve been drinking.”

Her brother let out a strangled laugh at that. “Please, I got enough judgment from Grannie and Aunt Alexandra today, and I’m dealing with an awful headache.”

“You didn’t need to run from me, you know,” Alix said softly.

“Who said anything about running?” Ernie asked, in a flippant tone that didn’t fool her. “I found Eddy outside theyacht club, getting into a carriage. He said he was going to get beers, and I asked to join.”

Alix pushed past her brother into his room, a mirror image of hers but with darker, more masculine fabrics. He sighed and followed her, setting down the lamp before climbing up into his four-poster bed. Alix scooted up to sit next to him, the way she used to when they were children: when their mother tucked them in bed, telling stories of castles and knights, of sorcerers and enchantments.

Everything had felt so simple then, Alix recalled. So abundantly clear. Now she felt certain of nothing at all.

“Did Eddy tell you what he was upset about?”

“No,” Ernie said simply.

“And you didn’task?”

Ernie shook his head. “No, we just talked about the usual things. You know, the regatta. Horses. Gossip about other princes who are less wonderful than ourselves.”

Of course that was all they’d talked about. Alix wondered why she’d expected otherwise. Even among family, society dictated that conversation avoid anything problematic—or anything that actually mattered.

“I’m sorry about my reaction. I mean—when I found you,” Alix said haltingly. “I was just surprised.”

Ernie turned to look her in the eyes. “You aren’t ashamed of me?”

“Of course not!”

“But such desires are counter to God’s will. Everyone knows that.”

“Don’t you remember what Mother always used to say?God made you, and you are wondrous in His eyes.”

“Yes, but—”