sorry.’
‘No need. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.’
The words came out rougher than he’d intended, but he didn’t want her compassion. He’d got over his mother’s abandonment long ago, buried those emotions along with the rest.
Pulling out his phone, he did a check on the falls, scanned the information. ‘The falls it is—I’ll speak to Security, see how close they can get us. Looks like the official road is closed off because of monsoon season, but I’m sure we can get something sorted.’
‘Actually, I wondered if we could do what my parents did and walk along the railway track to get there. Just us—no security. I know they’re discreet, but today I’d like to be just Frederick and Sunita—before we get caught up in the reality of being a royal couple.’
The wistfulness in her voice decided him—alongside the fact that, however much he trusted his staff, it made sense to thrash out the details of this marriage in private. Plus if he was being honest with himself, he too wanted to be ‘just Frederick and Sunita’ for one day. To put aside the burden of ruling and his complex need for this marriage for one day.
‘Sounds like a plan.’
Surprise etched her face. ‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure. Tell me the route they took and I’ll figure it out.’
She grinned. ‘I think they came back on a goods train.’
‘We can manage that.’
‘The Prince and his future consort hopping on a goods train? I like it.’
Her smile broadened and it caught at his heart, causing a sudden unfamiliar tug of hope that perhaps this might all work out.
* * *
Sunita glanced up at the sky, and for the first time in the past forty-eight hours her thoughts slowed down as she absorbed the grandeur of the bright grey monsoon clouds.
Most tourists flocked to India in the summer months, but she loved monsoon—always had, even as a child. Loved the drum of the rain, which brought the country much needed water and succour from heat, and lavished verdant green to the trees and fields.
‘It doesn’t seem possible that there can be so many different shades of green—it makes me wish I could paint, somehow capture all this.’ Her outswept arm encapsulated the winding track, the surrounding green and the skies above. ‘Photos never seem to catch the reality of it—they look fake, somehow.’
‘Then commit it to memory,’ Frederick said, putting out a hand to steady her as she stumbled slightly over an awkward rock.
The touch of his hand against hers almost made her gasp out loud, adding an extra level to her already overcrowded senses. In an almost involuntary movement she clasped her fingers around his.
‘Like my mother did. She described this walk to me so many times it almost felt like a story.’
Perhaps a real-life fairy tale, in which a moment of happiness had not led to a lifetime of happily-ever-after.
‘It’s odd to think that they walked here once...maybe took the exact same steps we’re taking now.’ She turned to him. ‘You must feel that a lot as a ruler—the idea of history being always around you. Your ancestors’ spirits looking over your shoulders.’
For an instant she’d swear a small shiver shot through him, and understanding smote her. Perhaps for him it was the spirit of his older brother that haunted his every move and decision.
Yet his voice was light as he answered, ‘I am more worried about current judgement and the opinion of posterity than the line of my progenitors.’
He slowed as they approached a tunnel, half turning for evidence of any oncoming train.
They stepped inside the dark and now it was her turn to shiver at the dank confines. Water trickled down the damp mossy walls and he tightened his grip on her hand. Without thought she moved closer to the strength of his body.
‘It’s safe. Even if a train does come through there is ample space as long as we keep to the side.’
Yet suddenly it didn’t feel safe—though it was no longer the train she was worried about. Frederick was too close, and that proximity was playing havoc with her body.
Did it matter any more? They were to be married—their physical attraction could now be acknowledged. The idea jolted a funny little thrill through her—one she short-circuited instantly. Two years ago physical attraction had lambasted her self-control and her pride. No way would she enter that thrall again.
As they emerged into sunlight she dropped his hand, under the pretext of tugging her hair into a ponytail, and then turned to him.
‘I think we were talking about current judgement and public opinion—and on that topic we need to decide how to announce our engagement.’
For an instant his gaze locked on her hand and then he nodded. ‘I think we keep it low-key. I don’t want to announce this as a romantic fairy tale—that would be disingenuous, and way too reminiscent of my father’s marriages. Every engagement, every wedding was an extravaganza, with proclamations of eternal love.’
‘Did he love any of them?’
‘According to his own criteria he did—but in reality I believe it was little more than lust and an ability to kid himself.’
‘Perhaps he did it for children?’
‘My father never did anything unless it was for himself.’ His tone was factual, rather than bitter. ‘But that isn’t the point. I don’t want to lie and present our marriage as some sort of perfect love story. I’d rather be honest.’
Sunita stared at him. ‘That is hardly the most gripping headline—Prince Proposes to Legitimise Heir.’ Irrational hurt threatened at his reminder that this was the only reason for their union. Well, so be it. ‘I don’t believe in fairy tales, but I do believe in good publicity.’
‘So what would you suggest?’
‘An old flame is rekindled. Prince Frederick of Lycander and Sunita decide to wed! Both the Prince and his bride profess delight at the prospect of being a real family.’ Her pace increased slightly. ‘I mean, that is just off the top of my head—I’m sure your spin people can work on it. We don’t have to profess undying love, but anything is better than indifference.’
Admiration glinted in his eyes and warmed her.
‘I’d forgotten what a natural you are with publicity. You’ve definitely not lost your touch.’
‘Thank you kindly, good sir. Publicity is an incredibly powerful tool. I agree that we shouldn’t lie to your people, but what you are doing is a good, principled action for your son—the people should know that. Of course they’ll be interested in a bit of fun and glitz and a celebration too.’ She glanced sideways at him. ‘Fun is important—for all of us. I want Amil’s childhood to be full of fun and joy—I want him to have a happy path through life.’
‘So
