Page 103 of Royally Matched

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Page 103 of Royally Matched

“And you and I would develop feelings for each other,” she finishes for me, her face grim.

I pause for a beat, the elephant in the car sucking out all the air. “Yes.”

“Clever girl,” Sofia says so quietly it’s almost a whisper.

The atmosphere is thick around us, my heart banging like a drum. I’m fighting the urge to reach out and kiss her again, to tell her how much I feel for her.

I don’t. Now is not the time. But I know one thing for certain. I want Sofia with every fiber of my being.

I would walk across hot coals for her.

I would slay a dragon for her.

It’s her. She’s the one.

As I gaze into her deep brown eyes the realization hits me like a punch to the solar plexus. I’m in love with this woman at my side. Not Princess Sofia. Not the person she projects to the world. But the real Sofia, myPrincipessa, the woman with the sharp wit and the brilliant mind, the woman with the hugest of hearts, who wants to do the best for her people at all times, putting their needs ahead of her own. This beautiful, kind, wonderful woman who has captured my heart in a way I never saw coming.

She may have decided we’re over, but I resolve not to give up. My feelings for her are too strong simply to walk away. And I know she feels it too but she’s letting her fear stop her from allowing herself to love me.

But I’m going to make her mine. One way or another. I just need to bide my time.

Chapter 28

Sofia

Max nudges me. “Smile. You’re at a wedding, remember? Love and all that crap?”

I force my lips into a smile and try to swallow down the lump in my throat. I fail.

He pulls his brows together as he watches me. Wearing his Ledonian red formal jacket with a diagonal blue sash reaching from shoulder to hip, he looks every inch the handsome young prince, representing his country in a sea of Malveauxian blue,sitting in the pew beside his family, in the striking Gothic cathedral in Tleurbonne.

“What is with you today?” he asks under his breath. “You’re not planning to protest when the Bishop asks if there’s any reason Alex and Maddie shouldn’t be joined in holy matrimony, are you?”

“No! Of course not,” I hiss.

“Well, then? What gives, sis?”

I lift my eyes to his momentarily. He’s looking at me with such uncomplicated earnestness, my heart gives an involuntary squeeze. Would he understand why I chose to follow my head? Would he understand that the decision I’ve made will ultimately be the right course to take—even if my heart is broken in two?

I don’t utter a word. It wouldn’t be circumspect. Not now that it’s over between Marco and me and I’m doing my best to carry on—and certainly not with cameras trained on us in a public event as we represent Ledonia at the marriage of our brother to the future queen of Malveaux.

The music begins and the entire congregation rises to its feet, turning to watch the bride take her last steps as a single woman. She’s accompanied by her proud father as they move down the aisle toward the man she loves.

Maddie’s gown sparkles with delicate lace details, the off-the-shoulder neckline accentuating her graceful shoulders. Her full skirt flows into a breathtaking cathedral-length train that sweeps majestically behind her, her veil, equally long and ethereal, cascades down, adding to her regal presence. In her hands, she cradles a bouquet of small blue rosebuds for Malveaux and red rosebuds for Ledonia, the colors contrasting beautifully against the ivory of her dress.

The love for my brother in her eyes is plain to see, anda cold, numbing despair washes over me, like a dark cloud that blots out all joy.

I won’t feel like Maddie does right now on my wedding day. I won’t feel full of joy and possibility, safely cocooned in the knowledge that the man I’m marrying ismyperson, the man I choose above all others. The man I love.

The brick I’ve been carrying around in my belly for the last six days since I left Monteluce grows heavier. I’ve been wallowing in a pit of despair, consumed by my sense of loss, questioning the choices I’ve been making in my life.

Why did I want an arranged marriage when I would be giving up a chance at love? But if I hadn’t decided to pursue it, and chose Enzo Revera as my groom, I would never have met Marco. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

My head saysbad.

My heart saysgood.

With Marco, the thing I can’t ever deny, is that with him I felt seen.




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