was just buying time. Things would come to a head when they returned from Thallia and Elena hoped that both of their countries—and thrones—would be secure.
Even then she didn’t know what life with Khalil would look like, or even where or how they would live. She and Aziz had discussed all these details, outlined everything in a twenty-page document that had been drawn up by lawyers from both of their countries.
But everything with Khalil was unknown. Looking at his grim expression, she wasn’t sure she wanted to discuss it now.
Instead she tried to plan what she would say to her Council. To Markos. No doubt he’d be contemptuous of her sudden change of groom. Perhaps he would claim she was being deceived by Khalil, as she had been by Paulo.
She thought of all the things Markos could say, all the contempt he could pour on her, and in Khalil’s presence, and inwardly she cringed.
‘What’s wrong?’ Khalil asked, turning to fix her with a narrowed gaze, and Elena realised her reaction had been visible too.
‘Nothing...’ she began, only to acknowledge she would have to tell Khalil about her mistakes. Better to hear it from her than Markos.
And actually, she realised, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to be honest, to share her burden with someone. To trust him with the truth.
‘Elena?’ Khalil prompted, and she took a deep breath.
‘Khalil...I need to tell you some things.’
His gaze swept over her. ‘All right.’
Elena took another deep breath. She wanted to tell Khalil, but it was still hard. ‘I was young when I became queen,’ she began. ‘As you know. My parents had just died and I suppose I was feeling...vulnerable. Lonely.’
‘Of course you were, Elena.’ His face softened in sympathy. ‘You’d had an isolated childhood and then you lost the two people who were closest to you.’
‘Even if they weren’t all that close.’
‘Still, they were your parents. You loved them, and they loved you.’
‘Yes.’ She nodded, feeling a sudden, surprising peace about what Khalil had so simply and surely stated. Her parents had loved her. No matter how little they might have shown it during their lives, they’d loved her in their own way.
‘So what happened when you became queen?’ he asked after a moment, his voice gentle, and Elena gave him a rather shaky smile.
‘My mother’s brother, Paulo, came to stay with me after the funeral. I hadn’t known him very well—he spent most of his time in Paris or Monte Carlo. I don’t think my father liked him all that much. He’d stayed away, in any case.’
‘And after the funeral?’
‘He was very kind to me.’ She sighed, a weary acceptance and regret coursing through her. ‘He was funny and charming and in some ways he felt like the father I’d never had. The one I’d always wanted. Approachable. Genuine. Or so I thought.’
‘He wasn’t, I presume.’ Khalil’s frown deepened. ‘This is the man who betrayed you.’
‘Yes, he did, yet I trusted him. I listened to him, and I came to him for advice. The Council didn’t want me to rule—Andreas Markos had tried to appoint himself as Regent.’
‘But you’re of age.’
‘He made the case that I didn’t have enough political experience. And he was right, you know. I didn’t. I’d gone to a few royal functions, a few balls and events and things. But I didn’t have the first clue about laws or policies. About anything real or important.’
‘You learned, though. I’ve read some of the bills you helped draft online, Elena. You’re not a pretty princess sitting on her throne, you’re an active head of government.’
‘Not at first.’
‘The Council should have given you time to adjust to your new role.’
‘Well, they didn’t, not really.’
Khalil shook his head. ‘So what happened with Paulo?’
‘He advised me on some real-estate deals: government subsidies for tourist developments on our coastal region. I thought he was helping me, but he was just lining his own pockets.’
‘How could you have known?’
‘It wasn’t just that,’ she hastened to explain, practically tripping over herself to tell him the whole sordid truth. She needed him to know, craved for him to accept the whole of her and what she’d done. ‘Every piece of advice he gave me was to benefit himself. And there were worse things. He forged my signature on cheques. He even stole some of my mother’s jewels, which weren’t hers to begin with. They were part of the crown jewels and they belonged to the government.’
She closed her eyes, filled with remorse and shame. ‘I was completely clueless, pathetically grateful for all his support. Markos uncovered it, and had him sent to prison. Kept the scandal from breaking in the press, thankfully—not for my sake, but for Thallia’s.’
‘That must have been very hard.’
‘Yes.’ Her throat was so tight it hurt to speak, but she kept going. ‘You know what’s really sad? Sometimes I still miss him. He completely betrayed me in every way possible, and I actually miss him.’ She shook her head, suddenly near tears, and Khalil reached over and covered her hand with his own.
‘He seemed kind to you, and during a time when you craved that kindness. Of course you miss that.’
‘Do you miss your father?’ she blurted, and Khalil stilled, his hand tensing over hers.
‘I’ve hated my father for so long,’ he said slowly. ‘And I can’t ever forget what he did.’ His face contorted for a second, and she knew how difficult this was for him to admit. ‘But I do miss his kindness to me. His—his love.’
‘Of course you do,’ she murmured and Khalil gave her a wry and rather shaky smile.
‘I never realised that before. I was too busy being angry.’
‘Are you still angry?’
‘I don’t know what I am,’ he said, sounding both surprised and confused, and then he shook his head. ‘We weren’t talking about me, though. We were talking about you. You shouldn’t blame yourself, Elena, for trusting a man who did his best to endear himself to you.’
‘I should have known better.’
Khalil shook his head, his hand tightening on hers. ‘You were young and vulnerable. It wasn’t your fault.’
‘The Council thinks it was. Or, at the very least, it completely undermined any confidence they might have had in me. Markos has been working steadily to discredit me ever since.’
Khalil frowned. ‘How?’
‘Rumours, whispers. Gossip that I’m flighty,
