A Prince At Last!

“You don’t believe in happy endings?”

“My mother never found her happy ending,” Juliet noted somberly. “She married Philippe out of a sense of duty, hoping to provide for her children, Georges and I. I don’t think she ever truly loved the king the way she loved my father. Which was perhaps a good thing given the fact that the king only wanted one thing from my mother—an heir. In the end she died trying to provide him a son.”

“Are you bitter about that?”

His question surprised her. “I try not to let myself be, but it is difficult at times,” she admitted. “After the first baby was stillborn, the doctors warned that another pregnancy might be risky. But the king wouldn’t listen and my mother went along with his wishes. Jacqueline was born a year later. I think the fact that the pregnancy went so well lulled the king and my mother into a false sense of security. Two years later my mother was pregnant again. This time things did not go as well.” Juliet’s throat tightened as it always did when she thought of those dark days. “I miss her still. That’s why I feel so strongly about you reading this letter from your mother, Luc. Because I know the influence a mother can have, and how that loss leaves a void in you.”

“My situation is entirely different. My mother died when I was six. I don’t remember much about her.”

“Perhaps reading her letter will bring back some memories.”

“I don’t want to remember,” Luc stated bluntly, returning to his earlier pacing. “I’ve got enough trouble dealing with the present without dredging up the past any more than I absolutely have to. As it is, I’ll have to rehash the entire story for the prime minister and dowager queen.”

“The dowager queen has always had a soft spot in her heart for you.”

“She just has an eye for younger men.”

“Luc!” Juliet gave him a startled look before laughing somewhat guiltily. “You shouldn’t say such things.”

“See, I told you I’m not cut out to be king. Already I’m saying the wrong thing.” His words sounded serious but there was a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Well, the dowager queen is your grandmother so I suppose one could say something slightly outrageous about one’s own grandmother.”

“My grandmother?” Now Luc was the one who looked startled. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“And with Marie-Claire, Ariane, Lise and Jacqueline, you’ve got four sisters.”

“Half sisters,” he corrected her. “Three of whom have all married in the past few months. There must be something in the palace water that’s responsible for all these weddings.”

“Your half sisters would disagree with you, I’m sure. They all married for love.”

“A romantic idea to be sure,” he scoffed.

“You don’t believe in marrying for love?”

“It isn’t something kings are supposed to do, is it?” Luc replied, pausing in front of her desk to bestow a brooding look down at the letter still resting there. “Supposedly King Philippe and my mother were in love, and look where it got them. It seems to have messed up the rest of their lives.”

“It doesn’t have to happen that way.”

“Oh, so now you’re the expert on royal love, hmm?” He turned to face her, propping his hip on the corner of the oak table as she had earlier. “I thought your thesis was on the role royal women played in St. Michel’s history.”

“And that role sometimes included falling in love.”

“What about you? Have you ever fallen in love?” Luc asked her.

“I thought so at the time.” Then Luc had come to the palace and things had changed. Her feelings for Armand had dimmed in comparison to her awareness of Luc. “What about you?”

“Love makes you vulnerable and I try not to be vulnerable.”

No surprise there. “If you’re so invulnerable,” she teased him, “then you shouldn’t be nervous about this upcoming meeting with the prime minister. You should be cool and calm, as you always are. A man in control.”

“Is that how you see me?”

She nodded. It was easier than adding that it was one of the ways she saw him, that she also sensed something deeper within him.

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment then. Doesn’t stop me from being uneasy about this meeting, however.”

“Do you want me to help…” Juliet began, before stopping as she remembered that it was the king, not merely Luc, she was offering assistance to. As if a king would need a bookworm’s help. “Never mind.” She took a step away from him.

“No, go ahead. You were going to offer help with what?”

“Your meeting. By coming with you. A stupid idea.”

“Not stupid at all. You’ve got a quiet way of getting people on your side. But this is one battle I’ve got to fight on my own.”

“Of course,” she said formally, taking another step back. “I understand and I agree.”

“Why are you doing that?” Luc demanded, noting the change in her voice immediately.

“Doing what?”

“Going all proper and starchy on me, pulling away from me.”

“This office isn’t large enough for me to move very far away,” she pointed out in an attempt to add a little levity.

But Luc wasn’t buying her act for one second. Giving her a dark look, he said, “Don’t you dare start acting differently now that you know about me being…” He paused and sliced the air with his hand instead of continuing.

“King,” Juliet said. “The word you are searching for is king. And you can’t expect me to act as if nothing has happened.”

“I expect you to continue to be my friend as you’ve been since I arrived at the palace three years ago.”

“I will always be your friend, Luc, but this is bound to change things between us.”

“Not if we don’t let it. And I refuse to let it,” he stated. “You must promise to do the same.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I can promise that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you being the king changes everything. Some things we have no control over.”

“The one thing I plan on doing with this situation is maintaining control,” Luc stated firmly.

“Some things are beyond our control,” she repeated with soft sadness.

Some things…like falling in love with a man who would be king.

“So Luc, I hope the fact that you called this special meeting means you have some good news to report to us,” Prime Minister René Davoine said with his customary dignity. Slim and blessed with plenty of pewter-gray hair and a mustache to match, he was the picture of a distinguished statesman. Dressed in a two-piece dark suit as always, he appeared more somber than he actually was.