Page 58 of Coronation (Royally Forbidden #1)

Thirty-Six

Zelda

S hortly after Ben leaves for Wyngate, Davina arrives at Fernmoor House.

“We missed you last night,” she tells me as we head through to the terrace and take seats across from each other at the weathered metal garden table.

“I’m sorry.” I grimace, hating that people were undoubtedly counting on me and Ben to make an appearance.

The studio’s marketing department has been capitalizing heavily on our relationship, ensuring no one will miss the movie, which brought about such an epic, real-life romance. “Was George upset?”

Davina waves this off. “Who cares. It’s not like you need him anymore.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Unless you’re telling me you’ll be going back to California any time soon?”

Ha. “Probably not,” I admit, a little sheepishly. “I finally told Ben about the baby last night. That’s why we didn’t come.”

“Did he take it well?” she asks, a little accusingly. Despite not being given the entire story, my friend knew very well I had been wary of spilling the proverbial beans and must have drawn her own conclusions.

I smile. “He’s happy. Really happy.”

Davina’s expression softens. “And are you?”

A warm breeze blows in over the trees surrounding the house, and something is lodged in my chest as I nod. “Yes. I don’t know what comes next. It will probably be a PR nightmare for Ben, but we’ll get through it.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Why?”

Davina lifts one shoulder in an elegant little shrug, “There are a lot of scandals that come out, right? Shitty people doing shitty things and getting caught? Those kinds of stories always feel massive , then, before you know it, we’ve all forgotten.

If you asked me which celebrity was arrested for snorting a line at LaGuardia last year, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. ”

“So?” I laugh, totally unsure where she’s going with this.

With a gentle, reassuring smile, my friend continues, “I’m just saying that the really big stories, the ones that stand the test of time, are about really big things.

Bravery, betrayal, love .” Beneath the table, she nudges my foot with hers, offering me a meaningful look.

“You have a real-life love story, and people want to hear about that, way more than they want to hear about the guy who didn’t want the TSA to waste his drugs. ”

My throat is tight as Davina gets to her feet. “You’re going? Already?”

She smiles sadly. “I have to pack. My flight leaves tonight. I just wanted to stop by and say goodbye and make sure you were okay.”

It feels like I’m doing more than saying goodbye to a friend as I stand to hug Davina.

If things had gone differently, right at this moment, I would be preparing to leave, too.

I’d be on to another project, more grueling days on set, briefly interspersed with press, premieres, and marketing.

That was my life for almost a decade, but as I watch Davina walk back into the house, her hair burnished gold in the late morning sunlight, I feel no longing to follow.

I spend the day doing just as I promised Ben: absolutely nothing.

It’s been ages since I didn’t have anywhere to go, or anything to do.

Freed from the weight of the secret I’ve been carrying around, I feel lighter than air as I float around the house, painting my toenails and ordering samples of wallpaper for the kitchen.

Fernmoor House has been neglected for so long, and even if we never actually live here, I feel as though I owe the house a debt of gratitude in some way.

I can think of worse hobbies than bringing it back to life.

By late afternoon, I’ve taken up residence on one of the sun loungers on the terrace, wearing a favorite bikini that hasn’t seen the light of day since I arrived in Stelland. This choice in activity was, admittedly, a little motivated by Ben’s promise to be back by dinner.

I’ve been lying out for half an hour when I finally hear footsteps from within the house, and turn, gazing over the top of my sunglasses at the super-hot king strolling toward me.

Ben’s eyes roam over my exposed skin, frank and unapologetic in his admiration. The muscles of my inner thighs go loose and warm.

“How does Stelland’s sun compare to California’s?” he asks, stopping beside my lounger to look down at me, amusement glittering in his dark eyes.

I push my sunglasses up into my hair and lean back with a contented sigh. “Quite lovely when it makes an appearance. Is this as hot as it ever gets here?”

Ben doesn’t respond at first. I watch as he toes off his shoes and socks, and, guessing his intention, I scoot forward, allowing him to climb onto the lounger behind me. “It is about, yes. Do you miss California?”

I pause, considering both the question and his reason for asking it. “Sometimes,” I admit honestly, and my heart lifts as I relax back into Ben’s chest, feeling the pressure of his lips against my hair. “The food is amazing, and I love surfing?—”

“You surf?” The incredulous query makes me laugh.

“Oh, I suck. It’s just nice to get out on the water,” I assure him.

“California is great, but I never really set down roots there. I was always working, you know? My financial advisor has been on me to start investing in real estate for years, but it hasn’t happened.

I told myself it’s because I’m busy, but now I kind of wonder if I subconsciously knew it’s not where I would end up. ”

Suddenly self-conscious of this admission, I try to turn and look at Ben, but he hugs me more securely against his chest, kissing my temple. “Could you see yourself ending up here?”

My pulse skips. “Your job doesn’t seem very flexible in terms of work location. So I guess if you wanted me and the little bean close, I’d have to.”

“I’m not interested in have to , darling, I’m interested in want to . Do you want to be here?”

And, for once, I swallow my long-standing practice of muffling my feelings out of the worry they’d be too much. I trust this man and know he won’t be scared off. So, I tell him the truth. “I want to be where you are.”

A tremor wracks Ben’s chest, as if my words have had a physical impact on him. The large, warm hand resting on my sternum slips down, splaying out across the lowest part of my bare stomach. “I love you. Both of you.”

My eyes burn, and I allow them to close, focusing on the sensations inside and out, determined to commit to memory every detail of how I feel in this moment.

I want to remember the joy and relief and comfort that came with finding my person.

I want to remember the warmth of the sun on my face, the scent of Ben’s skin, and the roughness of his beard as he kisses my neck.

My lips curve into a full, effortless smile. “We love you, too.”

Another kiss. “Would you do me a small favor?”

“What’s that?”

His answer comes in a low murmur, directly in my ear. “I want you to pretend that we are the only people in this world.”

I open my eyes, staring out at the sunny grounds stretched out behind Fernmoor House, puzzled. “Why?”

“You’ll see.” Heat slides up my spine as his lips brush over the skin below my ear, and the hand still resting on my belly seems to grow heavier. “Just us. No one else. Can you do that for me?”

A bird lands on a stump at the edge of the tree line. I watch it rustling about, wracking my brain for where he could possibly be going with this, and coming up blank. “Okay. I can pretend,” I agree at last, catching my bottom lip between my teeth.

Ben shifts behind me, and I lean forward, watching as he stands again. He pauses beside the lounger, looking down at me, and I see something like excitement glimmering in his dark eyes. Wordlessly, he holds out a hand.

I take it.

“This is all very mysterious,” I tell him after I’ve allowed him to pull me to my feet as well, reaching out to take the gauzy white cover-up from the back of the chair beside us and pull it on over my swimsuit.

Ordinarily, having less of my skin on display has this man pouting, but not today. Ben only grins, drawing closer to kiss my cheek. “Just us,” he reminds me gently before drawing back, searching my face.

What is he up to?

“Ben,” I scold him weakly. “Seriously, what—” My question is answered before it’s asked, carried off in the warm summer breeze as the man before me gets down on one knee.

I can barely comprehend what’s happening, can’t trust the evidence provided by my own two eyes. A weak cry of disbelief escapes my lips when I notice the ring, glinting up at me from between his fingers.

“Zelda Moon Flowers,” he begins, and the look on his face… the look on his face is that of a man who is sure . There is no doubt in Ben’s eyes, no worry or apprehension, only quiet, calm assuredness. “Will you marry me?”

Another cry, and my hands fly to frame my face as I frantically search for all the reasons I was sure this couldn’t happen. “But?—”

“Zelda.” Ben’s smile is huge. “Remember. Just us.”

All the air seems to vanish from my lungs as I stare at him, the favor he asked me a few moments ago suddenly making much more sense.

But it isn’t just us . There are other things to think about here, so many reasons to say no, to be logical, and yet, I can’t say no.

I don’t want to say no. If nobody else in this world existed, I would say yes.

If everyone else in this world existed, I would say yes.

Yes, because I trust him.

Yes, because he is my favorite person.

Yes, because he fought for me to love him, and yes, because it worked.

I love him . I really, really love him .

The edges of my vision blur, and tears run down the sides of my face. “Yes,” I tell him with a weak sob. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

In seconds, Ben is on his feet, sweeping me into his arms. “Yes?” He laughs, so full of excitement and joy it makes me cry harder, my tears soaking through the shoulder of his shirt.

I nod, sniffling as he pulls back enough to take my face in his hands, wiping away my tears. “Yes.”