Page 36 of Duty and Desire

I pulled free of his grasp and walked slowly toward the throne.

“This,” I said simply, pointing at it. “I’ve never witnessed a coronation, and I thought my first such event would be Rudolf’s.

I never imagined it would be my own.” Another hard swallow.

“And now I see it, now I know I will be the next monarch to sit on that throne…” I looked him in the eye.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist the transformation that event will bring about. And I’m afraid of ruling alone.”

Gio frowned. “But you won’t be alone.”

I felt so heavy, as though the act of putting one foot in front of the other would be more than I could manage.

“Why did you come to Eisenland?”

Gio stilled. “To save you from making a huge mistake.”

“By marrying Karoline?” He nodded, and I stared at him.

“And supposing I go against tradition, duty, my father’s wishes, and decide not to marry her, what then?

” I raised my eyebrows. “Remember what my father said? A king must marry for duty, and not love. I can’t do that, so in being true to myself, I would end up alone. ”

Gio moved closer, but I didn’t want sympathy.

“When will you be crowned?”

I tried to breathe evenly. “Possibly in July. Daniela would like it sooner, but I won’t be moved. There’s nothing in law that states it should happen within a certain time period after the death of the king.” I glanced at the throne. “And I’m in no hurry.”

I couldn’t stay in there a moment longer.

“One more stop on our tour.” I forced a smile. “And a place you might be interested in.”

His eyes locked on mine. “If you’re in it, I’m interested.”

My pulse raced, and something fluttered inside me.

Gio gave me an inquiring glance. “Well? Are you going to tell me?”

Right then I would have given everything to take him to my bedroom, lock the door, and relearn every line of him with my fingers and tongue.

Such thoughts did me no good at all.

“The Royal Library.” I wanted to indulge our shared passion—for books.

The passion we’d kindled during our weeks together hadn’t died, but it had to be ignored.

For the sake of my country.

Gio

I loved the musty smell of old books, leather bindings…

The dust? Not so much. I’d already sneezed several times.

“This feels as though no one’s been in here in years.”

Nick sighed. “I was never allowed to come here. My father said some of these books are rare, even ancient.”

I glanced at the windows. “Then those should have been upgraded to UV-resistant glass at least, to prevent further degradation.” I stilled. “Is it okay for us to be in here now?”

He chuckled. “Of course it is. I’m the king, aren’t I?”

I wandered over to peer at shelf after shelf, gazing at titles which didn’t inspire much interest if I were honest. It wasn’t a large room, but every inch of wall space was covered in bookcases.

One such case caught my eye. Leaded glass doors covered it, and its shelves contained few books. What I saw inside piqued my curiosity.

It was the kind of bookcase that screamed Keep Out—Private.

I grinned. “This looks promising.”

Nick joined me and opened the door with care. Inside was a sheaf of yellowed paper, tied with a purple ribbon. He lifted it out, then untied the ribbon. He gazed at the top sheet, frowning.

His soft gasp told me we’d hit pay dirt.

“These look like letters,” he murmured. He took the sheaf to the small round table in the center of the library, and spread out the sheets. “Wow. This one was written by King Andreas. It’s dated June 1919. He ruled after World War I.”

“What relation was he to you?”

Nick scrunched up his eyebrows. “My great-great grandfather. There’s a portrait of him in the gallery.” He peered at the first letter.

There was that gasp again.

“What have you found?”

“The letter was written to someone called Marie-Elisabeth.” He glanced at me, his eyes wide. “This is a very personal letter.”

“Was she his wife?”

Nick bit his lip. “That’s what surprised me. His wife was Queen Christina.”

I gaped at him. “His mistress, then? What does it say?”

Nick pulled out a chair and sat, his hand trembling slightly as he read aloud.

As I sit upon the eve of what will be a decisive moment in my life, I find my heart torn asunder by the weight of duty and the quiet, burning pull of my own desires.

It is said that a king must set aside his own whims, his own joy, for the good of his people.

That the crown demands sacrifices, the first and foremost being the sacrifice of personal happiness.

And yet, how does one reconcile the promise of love with the solemn call to lead? How does one abandon a heart that beats true for another, to embrace a union that is born not of affection, but of necessity?

I stand before the throne, and while it holds a certain power, it is not without its chains.

My subjects look to me to marry for the sake of alliances, of peace, of the future of our kingdom.

A king’s love is not his own to give, it is a gift to his people—one that must be wielded with care, calculated for the good of the realm.

And yet, how can I stand before my people and wear the crown, when it weighs so heavily upon my own heart?

I have been taught that duty is the highest calling. That to serve with honor is the mark of a true sovereign. But I find that my own soul, as I face the threshold of this great burden, longs for something more—something truer.

What is a king, if he is not a man? And what is a man, if he is forced to live a life he does not choose? Perhaps in the days to come, I will find my answer. But today, I am but a man who wishes, above all, to love freely and to be loved in return.

I let out a long breath. “Now there was a man with a dilemma.”

Nick nodded. “He was faced with the choice between his duty and his personal happiness, and in the end, he sacrificed that happiness.”

“And one hundred and five years later, here you are, faced with that same choice.”

He lowered the sheet to the table. “I could have written this. That line…” He peered at the sheet once more.

“ How does one abandon a heart that beats true for another, to embrace a union that is born not of affection, but of necessity? ” Nick raised his chin to look me in the eye. “My heart beats for you.”

My throat seized to hear the love in his voice.

Then Nick retied the ribbon around the sheaf, stood, and returned them to the bookcase.

I didn’t know what to say to him that I hadn’t already said. I couldn’t escape the feeling, however, that he was one step closer to finding the answer to his own dilemma.

I also had a feeling his ministers wouldn’t like it.