Page 16 of My Husband Problem

‘Playful’ is absolutely not a word anyone would associate with me. Not even when I was a kid. I was serious even growing up. Until I was eighteen and Astrid’s grandfather told me I could have a different future, I’d believed I would be in charge of leading my entire home country from the throne my family had sat upon for generations. Serious was definitely one word for how I’d approached life. It still is, though. I’m not the heirapparent in Cara, but my entire business empire has been built as a support system and safety net for my siblings and Alfred’s grandchildren. Including Astrid.

“You really do make a cute couple!” someone says as they walk past us on the path.

We both glance over at the man and woman in their mid-thirties.

The man says quietly, “Honey, come on,” as he casts us an apologetic look.

“What?” she asks. “It’s okay to say that. We want toencouragehim to be here with her. Remember? We’re Team Declan.”

Their voices fade as they walk away, and Astrid looks up at me again.

“There’s going to be a lot of that.”

“I don’t mind. If they write about what a cute coupleweare, it will get back to my grandfather and help our case against the annulment.”

She wets her lips. “Or…we could just hop on your plane tonight and go to Cara and get the annulment over with even sooner.”

I step closer and lift my hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

She sucks in a quick breath, and I take note.

That’s not fear. That’s not a flinch. She didn’t tense up. There’s a flush in her cheeks.

“Why would I do that?” I ask, taking the chance to drag the backs of my knuckles over her cheek before dropping my hand.

She presses her lips together and swallows. “Because us being married is crazy. And you know it.”

It is. But it’s not the first crazy thing I’ve done for my family.

“Crazy doesn’t have to mean bad.” I’ve learned that.

I’m a prince.That’scrazy. In the modern world, living and working in the US, going about my usual day-to-day life, I don’t even think about it most of the time. But it’s true.

“Our grandfathers were drunk when they came up with this arranged marriage idea,” she says. “Then they were too stubborn to admit it was nuts.”

“You walked down the aisle and told the king yes,” I remind her, my gut tight.

Of course, she’s right. The entire thing is bonkers. Who arranges marriages anymore?

Actually, a lot of people. It’s not uncommon inside the upper echelons of business and society. Combining power and wealth by uniting families has never gone completely out of style. In certain circles, people even talk openly about it. It’s understood and accepted.

“You were very…forceful about it at the time,” she says, her eyes narrowing.

I think back to that day.

I was, indeed. I had arrived in Cara for the first time in over a decade, afraid that she had already married my brother.

The truth was, her older sister and my brother were the ones who were supposed to fulfill our grandfathers' wish for an arranged marriage. Then they’d gone and fallen in real love with other people. But rather than drop the whole idea, my grandfather had just moved on to the next single grandchildren—my brother Cian and Astrid.

I hadn’t realized just how strong my obsession for this woman was until there was a real risk of her marrying someone else. Someone I was related to, especially.

I’d gotten on my plane and flown straight to the place I’d vowed never to return to.

And I’d told her that there was no reason I’d accept for hernotmarrying me that day.

“I was not at my best that day,” I finally admit.

She frowns, and I think that was probably not the best way to describe my emotional state on our wedding day.