Page 22 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

‘Fair enough,’ she agreed with a nod. ‘My parents were a nightmare. As I told you, they argued a lot, pretty much all the time for as long as I can remember. It was horrendous. I used to dread coming home from school. The unpredictability of their personalities and their relationship meant that I never knew what I’d find.

The simplest of conversations would descend into a row.

They were so loud the neighbours must have been able to hear every word. Things were frequently thrown.’

‘How did you cope?’ he asked, unable to imagine how awful such conflict must have been for her.

‘I had to block it out.’

‘By listening to music with your headphones on and dancing the negative energy away?’

Her eyebrows rose. ‘You remember that?’

‘Of course. I have an excellent memory.’

‘That was one way,’ she said. ‘Another was by daydreaming about life at the palace.’

Now his eyebrows were the ones to rise. ‘ My palace?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. I frequently transported myself from my house to yours, where it felt like nothing would ever go wrong. I envisaged beautiful royal people doing beautiful royal things, in perfect peaceful harmony, with never a cross word. Of course I realise how unrealistic that was, and I probably did then, but at the time I didn’t care much for reality.

I just needed an escape. Which was another reason I married you.

Regardless of what was actually going on behind the palace walls, the monarchy got me through some tough times.

I feel a strong sense of loyalty towards it, so strong that I even pursued a career doing what I could to support it.

I didn’t want to see the crown fall into the hands of someone who didn’t care.

I couldn’t allow everything you and I had worked for to go to waste. ’

‘You’re not a dreamer these days,’ he said, trying to equate his uber-professional communications secretary with the troubled adolescent she must have been, and failing. ‘So what happened?’

‘I toughened up,’ she replied with a shrug.

‘Despite the music and the fantasies, my childhood was a pretty lonely time. There wasn’t a whole lot of love going round and I could hardly bring friends back, even if I’d had any.

On the upside, though, I learned to be resilient and self-reliant.

My parents were both so awful I couldn’t side with either one so I chose to side with me, instead.

I didn’t like the rage I felt at their dysfunction.

The volatility of my emotions felt too much like theirs, so I did my level best to control it.

I still do. I also try to avoid confrontation and prioritise communication over letting things stew, which was another point in your favour.

You have a solid grip on your emotions. You offered a relationship free from drama and chaos, which I wanted, and I value honesty and steadfastness, which you have in abundance. ’

The conversation had then moved on to his childhood, which had been considerably less traumatic, and then they’d stopped talking to lose their minds in each other’s arms again.

But now, but with the sun sinking towards the horizon, Ivo wasn’t feeling very steadfast. The grip he had on his emotions didn’t seem solid at all.

His stomach was churning and his chest was tight.

He had no clue as to why he could hear the rapid thud of his heart in his ears, but it felt dramatic.

He felt… chaotic . He was being hammered by the more troublesome aspects of her upbringing, such as loneliness, neglect and a stark lack of both affection and friends.

Battered by the need to dig deeper to tease out her hopes and fears and find out whether she did in fact have any dreams and, if she did, what they might be.

For all she had said, he could feel there was much more she was holding back.

He couldn’t shake the unsettling sense that his foundations weren’t built on impregnable rock but shifting sands instead.

His feelings for her were supposed to simple.

Basic. Centred on respect and liking and nothing more.

But they were turning out to be anything but simple.

Mixed up among them was lust, madness and other dark swirling things he couldn’t identify, and suddenly, it seemed imperative to remember why he’d married her .

To focus on the admirable character traits she possessed.

Her resilience was an asset to the crown, he told himself, recalling the pragmatic nature of their relationship that, for a moment, had got lost. As was her deep unwavering loyalty, which was evidently not to him but to the institution, exactly as it should be.

Her self-reliance meant that he would be able to attend to business without having to worry about her.

Her focus on peaceful resolution and transparency matched his, which augured good things for their marriage and the country.

Once again, he congratulated himself on having identified an excellent queen in Sofia.

Once again he congratulated himself on restoring order.

The job was what mattered, he reminded himself as he glanced at his watch and snuffed out a rogue pang of resentment when he saw the time. His duty. His responsibilities. Continuing the charade for the good of the crown. Nothing else.

‘We should go,’ he said, pushing off the tree trunk against which they were watching the sun set in companionable silence. ‘The train will be waiting to take us to our next royal engagement.’

‘Do we have to?’

He bit back the ‘no’ that was on the tip of his tongue and got to his feet. ‘Yes,’ he said, as he extended his hand to help her up. ‘We do.’