Page 105 of Royally Matched

Font Size:

Page 105 of Royally Matched

“So, he doesn’t like sport,” Amelia replies.

“What kind of bloke doesn’t like sport?” Max grumps, leaning back in his seat and waving at the cheering crowd. “I was just trying to relate to him. I asked him a whole bunch of questions.” He counts them off on his fingers. “He doesn’t like dancing, he only ever listens to classical music, particularly opera. Opera! He finds politics riveting and watches Parliament TV most days, and get this: he thought rap music was something to do with gift wrapping! I mean, if that’s not a total snooze-fest I don’t know what is.”

“Max,” Amelia warns. “He’s Sofia’s perfect match, according to her spreadsheet, and you need to get used to him because he’s going to be living at the palace after they get married, and now that you’re back from university, you’re going to be seeing a lot of him, just like I will.”

“Great,” Max replies with a sarcastic smile.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind about him, Sofe,” she says.

I concentrate on looking out the window and smiling at people, my hand lifted in a wave. The truth of the matter is that I haven’t seen Enzo once since I returned from Monteluce. I knew he was travelling, but during that time we didn’t message one another, neither of us called the other, and if I’m perfectly honest, he hasn’t been occupying my mind at all. The idea of us entering a relationship, of us becoming engaged, feels hollow. Empty.

How could it not when it’s competing with my feelings of love for another man?

Right now, I don’t want to think about anything at all. I just want to get through this wedding.

We reach the palace and make our way to the throne room, where the reception is to be held.

“There you are, Sofia,” Enzo says, offering me a glass of champagne. “How did you enjoy the wedding?”

“It was wonderful,” I tell him as I take a sip, the bubbles tickling my nose, the taste a little bitter. Malveauxian champagne has always been pretty awful, but it would be rude not to drink it on an occasion like this. Shame Alex isn’t here with his hip flask of cordial to disguise the taste.

“The music was a little too modern for my tastes.”

“Wasn’t it Mendelssohn’sWedding March?” I ask, referring to the gorgeous music that had floated around the cathedral.

“Too populist,” he dismisses.

“As in too many people like it?” I ask carefully.

“Exactly.” He pulls his brows together and swallows. “Sofia, I must talk with you about something, if I may?”

“Of course.”

He shifts his weight, and it strikes me he’s nervous.

Oh no!Is he going to do something stupid like ask me to marry him in front of all these people? No no no no no! That would be nothing short of a disaster! Surely he won't do that.

It's my turn to swallow, my pulse kicking up a notch or ten. “What did you want to say?” I ask and hold my breath.

“It would seem I’ve fallen in love.”

Of all the things I expected him to say right now, that wasn't it.

I blink at him in disbelief. “I beg your pardon?”

He clears his throat. “Miss Sigrid Olsson is her name,” he says and his face morphs into a radiant smile, his furry caterpillar mustache reaching up toward his eyebrows. “She attended the garden party where your dogs ran amok. A friend of your sister’s, I believe. She really is a most remarkable woman, and, well, I didn’t plan this but I’m sorry. I’m sure you understand I won’t be able to follow through on our agreement to become engaged to be married.”

I stare at him, open mouthed. Enzo has fallen in love with someone called Sigrid Olsson? The cogs in my brain whizz and whir.

“I know we had an understanding that we would spend some time together, getting to know one another, with a view to forming an engagement. I for one am disappointed in myself for not being able to follow through with my commitment to you, Sofia. But?—”

“But the heart wants what the heart wants,” I finish for him.

His eyes sparkle. “Indeed.”

I know a little about that myself.

I place my hand on his arm, and it strikes me that this is the first time I’ve ever touched him off the dance floor. How odd to think I once thought he was the perfect man for me, the man I thought had all the qualities I wanted, the man I should marry. “Enzo, I release you from any commitment to me, and I wish you and Sigrid Olsson a lifetime of happiness together.”




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books