The Sinful King (Naughty Royals 1) - Page 59

When the doors slammed shut behind them, I let out a breath and looked at Pierre.

“That was a good save.”

“Somebody had to say something.” Pierre handed over my jacket. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll have to ask her tonight.” I shrugged on the jacket. “And hope that she accepts.”

“She’d have to uproot her entire life for you. That’s what you’d be asking of her,” Pierre said. “Her life is in London and unlike Emily, Adeline has a company to run. She’d be giving up a lot if she agrees to this.”

“I know.” I took a breath and exhaled it. It was a lot to ask of anyone. I wasn’t blind to that.

“I’ll start a list of names in case she says no.” Pierre headed to the door.

“No.” My voice rung out in the room.

“Just in case.” He turned to look at me. “You need a backup plan.”

“I don’t want a list. If Addie won’t do it, we’ll figure out another way.”

“Eli, you need to have a plan.”

“Give me a couple of days. I’ll have one.”

He gave a nod and walked away, leaving me in the chambers by myself. I’d never liked staying in Versailles and had never envisioned myself sleeping in the king’s bedchambers. My father loved it. He said he felt closer to his roots, to the Sun God, and it served as a reminder of why he was here and what he was to accomplish. I felt haunted by those things, not inspired. I finished dressing and walked out of the lavish room. Pierre was waiting just outside the door with my crown and royal cape. I put them both on, looked in the mirror beside me, and saw all of the things haunting me inside my eyes. Having Adeline would ease a lot of it. I felt that deep in my core, and it was with the determination of getting her that I walked all the way to the Hall of Mirrors, where the celebration was taking place.

Chapter 31

Adeline

I watched Prince Aramis walking in my direction, his gaze on mine. He looked so much like his older brother that it took a moment for my heart to settle.

“Adeline.” He bowed his head slightly as he reached me.

“Prince Aramis.” I bowed mine as well, unsure of whether or not I was to curtsy to him as well. His mouth lifted slightly, as if he was reading my mind.

“I’m not the king.”

“Good to know.” I smiled shakily. “I’m never sure what to do in these situations.”

“That’ll make all of this that much more interesting.” He winked and walked away, stopping at the bar a few feet from where I was. I turned, a frown on my face, as I watched him. What did that even mean? Was he talking about my reaction to Elias and Emily? My stomach turned at the thought. Just when I was thinking about bailing on this entire thing, the soft jazz music the band was playing stopped and a trumpet rang out as the doors at the end of the hall opened.

“Elias Francis, crowned King of France,” the man announced. “Long live the King!”

Everyone, including me, repeated the phrase, “Long live the King” as we watched Elias walk into the room. My heart skipped. I knew I missed him. I thought about him every waking second of the day since we’d been apart, but seeing him now, the longing was magnified. I tried hard to push it down, to cover it with the anger I was sure to feel in a few minutes when Emily, the Princess of Austria, joined him, but it didn’t help. Longing mixed with anger only deepened how much I wanted him. All of the guests created a circle for him to go around and greet. I watched as one by one, each man bowed as he shook their hand and every woman curtsied as he kissed the back of theirs. I hated every single hand he touched because it was not mine. When he was just six or seven people from me, I retreated a foot with the intention of leaving, but hit someone standing behind me. I turned, confused, and saw Pierre smiling at me.

“You can’t leave the room until he greets you,” he whispered.

“Oh.” My eyes widened. What would happen if I defied the rule?

The thought stuck with me as I turned around again, gathering all of my courage to stay put. When Elias greeted the third person from me, he glanced up and our eyes met. Even as he continued shaking hands and kissing the back of the women’s, he stared at me. By the time he reached me, I was sure my heart wasn’t my own and that it had taken place inside his chest somehow. He lifted my hand and I tore my gaze from his, looking at the ground as I curtsied. Instead of letting go of my hand, as he’d done for everyone else, he held on tightly to mine. I managed to bring my gaze back to his. My pulse quickened as he leaned in and brought his lips to my ear.

Tags: Claire Contreras Naughty Royals Romance
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