Page 72 of Royal Affair

"Therapy Café. It's on campus, so you won't have to adjust your schedule much." I kept my tone light, determinedly casual.

He nodded, returning to his laptop without further comment. The ease with which he accepted this plan, compared to his reaction to Frederick, was telling. It should have relieved me. Instead, it irritated me in a way I couldn't quite articulate.

The next day passed much like the one before—an early morning lesson with James, classes, his constant watchful presence. By the time I reached Therapy Café, I was a bundle of conflicting emotions—exhaustion from lack of sleep, lingering tension from the morning's physical training, frustration with James's hot-and-cold demeanor.

Octavia and Gabriela were already at a table by the window, heads bent close in conversation. They spotted me as I entered, both jumping and crushing me in fierce hugs.

"Finally!" Octavia exclaimed, pulling back to examine my face. "God, you look tired. Is he working you too hard?" She nodded toward James, who had positioned himself at a table near the door, far enough to give us privacy but close enough to intervene if needed.

"Let's get your coffee first," Gabriela suggested, always the practical one. "Then you can tell us everything."

Once settled with steaming mugs and a shared plate of pastries, they both looked at me expectantly.

"So," Octavia began, leaning forward. "Spill. What's going on between you and the hot bodyguard? You look at him like you want to either kiss him or kill him."

I nearly choked on my coffee. "Is it that obvious!"

"Only to anyone with eyes," Gabriela said dryly. "What happened? Last time we saw you, things were tense but civil."

I glanced over at James, who appeared absorbed in his phone, though I knew he was scanning the café regularly, monitoring exits and entrances, assessing potential threats.

"It's complicated," I sighed, turning back to my friends. "After Alexandra's funeral, we agreed to keep things professional. And we were. Mostly. Until recently."

"Recently meaning...?" Octavia prompted.

"He pulled a fire alarm to get me out of a self-defense lesson with Frederick," I admitted.

Their reactions couldn't have been more different. Octavia burst out laughing, nearly spilling her coffee, while Gabriela's eyes widened in shock.

"He did what!" Gabriela hissed. "That's illegal! And dangerous!"

"It's also hot as hell," Octavia countered, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Mr. Stone-Cold-Professional lost it over another man touching you? I knew it!"

"It's not funny, Octavia," I said, though I couldn't quite suppress a smile at her enthusiasm. "He threatened Frederick. Graphically."

That sobered them both.

"Threatened how?" Gabriela asked, her voice dropping lower.

I glanced around to ensure no one was listening, then repeated James's words from the car. Both my friends stared at me, momentarily speechless.

"Wow," Octavia finally said. "That's... intense."

"That's terrifying," Gabriela corrected. "Eve, are you sure he's stable?"

"He wouldn't actually hurt Frederick," I said, though the absolute certainty in James's voice when he'd spoken those words made me wonder. "He was just jealous."

"Jealousy is sending nasty looks across the room," Octavia pointed out. "Threatening to dismember someone and deliver their hands in a box is something else entirely."

When It’s put that way, it did sound alarming. But I'd seen the control behind James's fury, the calculation behind his words. He wasn't unstable—he was protective. Possessive?, yes, but not dangerous. At least, not to me.

"It doesn't matter," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "The point is, I can't stop thinking about him. About us. About what happened in Luxembourg."

Both leaned forward at that. I hadn't told them all the details of that night—only that something had happened between James and I, and that we'd agreed to forget it afterward.

"Did you sleep with him?" Octavia asked bluntly.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, answer enough without words.