Duke Lates still harbored ill feelings toward the King and Queen of Elaise to this day. It did not appear to occur to him that he had brought such treatment upon himself by luring away their innocent daughter. That he had taken Aubrey — won through that same scheming — and, while she lay bedridden after childbirth, begun his affair with Miranda and fathered Delilah, was all ancient history to him now.

“They did seem rather set in their ways. Old people, I suppose.”

Alexis clicked his tongue.

“The King and Queen are timid souls, and quick to take offense.”

The Duke wagged his tongue without a moment’s thought for his own conduct. Alexis, for his part, found it entirely to his liking.

“I knew Duke Lates and I would see eye to eye.”

“The honor is mine.”

That a senior minister of the Empire should be reduced to flattering a clueless Crown Prince was precisely why Alexis could not find his way out of his own narcissism.

“Delilah has been beside herself with worry for Your Highness throughout the long journey.”

At that, Alexis’s green eyes turned toward Delilah. Fresh from her toilette, she carried herself like a rose in full bloom — a sight he found tolerably pleasing.

“I am fatigued. I shall retire for the evening.”

“Of course. We will take our leave.”

The Duke caught on at once and offered up his daughter. Delilah, who knew no better than to think this a fine thing, let a faint blush rise to her cheeks and lifted her gaze to the Crown Prince.

“Your Highness…… I missed you.”

Delilah had inherited Miranda’s gift for coquetry, her voice carrying just the right note of practiced allure. Alexis watched her look up at him with feigned shyness — then, struck by a sudden thought, took hold of her chin.

“Your Highness……?”

“Hold still.”

With a swift motion he gripped her chin and tilted it up, turning her face this way and that as he examined it. Every last blemish concealed beneath careful layers of powder — the face that looked back at him was pretty and beguiling.

“This is how a woman’s skin ought to be.”

Even now, the thought of pockmarks made him shudder with revulsion. How could he press his lips to such a woman’s mouth — how could he even imagine sharing her bed? The very idea was inconceivable.

“I saw your sister in the Kingdom of Elaise.”

“You did……?”

“Smallpox has left her face entirely ruined.”

“How dreadful…… what a shame.”

Delilah said what she did not mean in the slightest.

***

Annabella stood before the King and Queen in a white dress that shimmered with a soft, pearl-like luminescence, a tiara upon her head — elegant without being excessive.

“As King of the Kingdom of Elaise, I hereby receive Annabella Lates as my granddaughter and invest her as Princess.”

Annabella knelt upon the cushion placed before Milton at the modest investiture ceremony.

“Furthermore, I hereby declare that from the moment this ceremony concludes, Annabella Lates shall henceforth be known as Annabella Elaise.”

Becoming a princess of the kingdom was not merely a matter of elevated rank. It was tantamount to becoming the sole heir to the Elaise throne — a kingdom that currently had no successor. It was the clearest expression of the King and Queen’s wish to give her everything they had.

Milton placed the tiara upon Annabella’s head. She rose and answered in a clear, melodious voice.

“It is my greatest honor.”

“At last, we are a complete family.”

Grace offered those words in quiet celebration. At that, Annabella felt her eyes threaten to redden without any particular reason. The steadfast love and support she had never possessed even as Crown Princess in her previous life felt unbearably precious now.

“I can only offer my deepest gratitude.”

“Not at all — it is only natural. Are you not our one and only granddaughter?”

Milton set aside his dignity without hesitation and took Annabella’s hand.

“Now that we are a proper family, let us think only of living our lives together.”

“You are a gift that came to us late.”

Grace linked her arm through Annabella’s with gentle warmth. The ache that had lived in her heart since losing their only daughter felt, for the first time today, as though it might ease a little.

“Indeed — a gift and a treasure that Aubrey left behind for us.”

Milton gave Annabella’s shoulder a warm pat. Just then, over Milton’s shoulder, she caught sight of Cedric among the small number of people who had attended the investiture.

‘He truly came.’

A glad warmth rose in her chest quite naturally. But she could not go to him now. Not when she had the King and Queen here, caring for her so deeply — she could not reach for the hand of a dangerous man. It was why, even as she found herself searching for him without thinking, she could never quite bring herself to draw near.

Cedric, however, was different. The moment the ceremony ended, he stepped past the ministers offering their congratulations and made his way to the King, the Queen, and Annabella without hesitation, a smile on his face.

“My congratulations on this joyous occasion.”

“Thank you.”

Milton answered, but Cedric’s eyes were on Annabella.

“Congratulations on becoming a princess.”

He had finally said the one thing he had wanted to say to her.

“Thank you.”

Annabella dipped her knees in a slight curtsy of acknowledgment.

‘If it were just the two of us, without the others……’

Cedric kept his smile, holding the wistful thought to himself.

“Seeing such a beautiful princess — it rather has the feeling of a wedding, does it not?”

Cedric had meant it as nothing more than a passing remark, but Milton’s face went stiff.

“A wedding. What nonsense.”

Grace was quick to add her agreement.

“Indeed — our Annabella is far too young to be married.”

“She has just turned twenty, has she not?”

“She has barely turned twenty. She is still very much a child.”

Milton put his foot down firmly. The old wound of losing Aubrey to Duke Lates had made the two of them all the more resolute in guarding what was theirs.

“Quite right. Our granddaughter is far too young for marriage. We might begin to consider it in ten years, perhaps.”

All trace of the King’s usual dignity had vanished — he looked for all the world like a child digging in his heels. Grace, ordinarily possessed of such clear-headed judgment, was of precisely the same mind. The more they spoke, the more bitter Cedric found the taste in his mouth. She had been the Crown Prince’s fiancée — difficult enough to approach as it was — and now that that title had finally been stripped away, it felt as though an even greater wall had risen in its place.

“I…… suppose so.”

Annabella gave a small nod, swept along by the mood, and the smile faded from Cedric’s face.

“Now then, what are we all standing around for? We have a banquet to enjoy — all of us together.”

Milton cut cheerfully between the two of them, oblivious, and announced it with great satisfaction.

“Of course.”

Even as he answered, Cedric studied Annabella’s expression. But the sight of her cradling the bouquet Grace had given her only made his chest stir all the more.

***

The banquet ended, and night fell.

The time had truly come to leave — and yet Cedric’s steps were leaden.

“Your Highness, the soldiers of the north will be waiting for you.”

Rohan pressed him, but his feet refused to move. No matter which way he turned, the image of Annabella cradling that bouquet floated before his eyes.

“I will set out at dawn.”

“Would it not be better to depart now?”

Cedric had always preferred to ride under cover of darkness. Rohan knew as much, which was why he suggested it — but Cedric shook his head at once.

“I will stay the night. In the meantime, go and see to the horses — tend to them and make sure everything is in order.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Rohan withdrew, and Cedric let out a quiet breath. Thoughts he had no business entertaining — not as a man who owed a debt to the Kingdom of Elaise — kept swelling inside him unbidden. If Milton knew what was in his heart, even he would not take it lightly, that much was certain.

“I never thought I would resent my own precarious circumstances this deeply.”

He had survived a great many things over the years, but this particular ache — this was something he had never felt before.