Page 23 of Praise Me: Princess
Purpose and glory and determination harden inside of me like stone, but there’s still a terrible echo of worry in the back of my mind. Her happiness and safety are my first priorities and yet… “You do belong to me, Princess.Allof you.” I choke on the rest. “But as you said, I’m only a soldier. I can’t give you this kind of life—”
“I don’t care.” She shakes her head. “All I need is you.”
Her arms are around my neck now and I can’t keep myself from sweeping her off the floor, rocking her in my embrace, absorbing the goodness of her. Reeling from the joy and relief of knowing I mean as much to her as she does to me. “I am sick with love for you, Greta. If you don’t need this life, I will steal you from these walls tonight. But please be sure, because once you’re committed to me, I will die before letting you go.”
“Don’t. Don’t ever let me go.” Her mouth is open against my throat. “I love you, too. I feel like I could drown from it.”
“We leave tonight,” I vow, gathering her tight to my body, wondering if she can possibly feel an ounce of the happiness coursing through my veins. “We start our life together tonight. Me and my princess.”
“Yes—”
Trumpets sound in the corridor. They can only mean one thing.
The arrival of the queen.
Greta kisses my throat, squeezing my hand before putting distance in between us. It’s everything I can do not to yank her back and make her tell me again—over and over—that she loves me and wants to spend her life with me. That she has deemed me worthy of her. But I hold on to my composure, standing atGreta’s side as her mother sweeps into the room with a pinched expression.
I know that look from the battlefield. It means danger. And somehow, I know our plans are about to be ruined.
“Mother, what’s wrong?” Greta asks, midway through her curtsy.
“It’s the rebels. They’ve bested us in the north.” It’s a rarity to see the queen so overwrought. “They’re moving south now. Though we’re doing our best to hold them, I fear our army will not be enough for long.” She squares her shoulders, takes a deep breath. “It’s now more important than ever that we form an alliance with Prince Kristof’s family. His father the king is very sick, which puts him in charge. Once you’re married, the prince will be obligated to lend us his forces.”
It's a wonder I’m able to remain standing, my grief is so swift and severe.
Greta doesn’t look at me, but she pales, blinking rapidly to waylay her tears and I can all but hear the lid seal shut on my coffin. She’s going to marry the prince. The choice has been taken from us. She cannot run away with me, nor can I kill him as a last resort.
The safety of the country depends on it. She would never turn her back and allow lives to be lost. At the cost of my own sanity, I couldn’t ask her to live with that guilt, even if I’m being sentenced to a life of misery at the very same time.
“We must travel at once. Within the hour,” the queen adds, looking at me. “Will you accompany us, Commander?”
“Where she goes, I go,” I say, automatically—and as the words leave my mouth, I know a truer statement has never been made. No matter how this ends, they will have to pry the princess out of my cold dead hands.
twelve
. . .
Greta
The journeyto Quilton is short. Too short.
We travel west in a convoy of SUVs and I don’t have a single free second to communicate with Conrad, which puts me in a state of distress by the time we reach Quilton Palace. He guards me closely, but his expression is closed off, distant. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I suspect he’s reached the same conclusion as me.
There is no way out of this.
I have to marry the prince to save Leidenstein.
There will be no running away from this responsibility. Maybe I was silly to believe I could shirk my duties as princess and wed for love. Maybe my happiness was always going to come second to the safety of the kingdom and I was unwilling to accept it.
I have no choice but to accept it now.
The Quilton palace is in the middle of a bustling metropolis, unlike Leidenstein. Their local law enforcement closes down thestreets and we travel through the maze of buildings with a police escort, my mother tense in the seat in front of me. Before we left Leidenstein, I was besieged by stylists and cosmetologists, my hair fashioned in tumbling curls and topped with a tiara, my gown a simple and respectful dove gray, the material soft against my crossed bare thighs that are sensitive due to Conrad sitting so close to me. And he moves even closer as we cross deeper into the city, his arm flexed behind me on the seat, his body shielding me protectively, eyes scanning the streets outside for threats.
I look up at him and try to communicate something, anything. That I love him no matter what happens. That I’m sorry we won’t be able to run away together. That I’m scared. That I wish we were alone so our bodies could be joined one last time before I’m betrothed to another man. He only makes eye contact with me for the briefest of moments, but the utter madness there sends an arctic chill down my spine.
I face forward again, my heart pounding with extreme trepidation.
This day will not end well.