Page 31 of A Ring to Claim Her Crown
He wanted Minerva for himself...but not like this.
‘It would only make everything worse.’ She shook her head, staring at him with the exact horrified expression she’d worn the first time they’d had this conversation. This time, at least, he had been the one to propose.
‘Make the announcement, Minerva,’ he said roughly. ‘Your team know how to spin it as a grand love affair. The public will be appeased. Your mother can go ahead with her plans to abdicate. Two scandals solved for the price of one.’
‘It would be that easy for you?’ she asked, tucking her arms tightly around herself. ‘You would marry me, walk back into this world?’
He fought off the instinctive discomfort that her words evoked—the memories of his younger self, of always feeling unsuitable and unwanted. Was that how she would see him now? She had been so ready to choose another as her king consort, to send him away. Perhaps a better man would have obeyed. But he was not a better man. He might not be her ideal choice for a royal husband but he was more trustworthy than any of the other men she’d been prepared to choose between.
‘I was never guilty of the crimes my father committed. So, it’s the best solution,’ he said, avoiding her eyes lest she see right through this poor show of bravado. ‘You would only have to remain married to me for a short time, long enough to get settled as queen. After a year or so, we could divorce. It’s not as if that has not happened—’
She winced and he realised, far too late, the gravity of his words. Minerva did not speak of her father often, or the public divorce that had shadowed her early teenage years. He closed his eyes, pressing thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. ‘I didn’t mean to speak ill of your parents.’
‘No, it’s the truth. The public have already recovered from one broken royal marriage. Seeing as history is already repeating itself, we may as well lean into the charade, right?’
‘Minerva.’ He moved towards her, freezing as she raised her arms up to hold him off, warning him not to come closer, not to touch her. How was this happening? Less than an hour ago, they had been blissed out from a second night of pleasure and now she could barely look at him.
‘I need to return to the palace, Liro.’ Her brown eyes were cold and flat, as though every ember of happiness had been extinguished within her. The idea that facing marriage to him had affected her this deeply hurt now, more than it ever had the first time. Back then they had been young and naïve and his love had been a fragile thing.
Now, it was deep enough that this rejection hurt like a knife sliding between his ribs. Like an arrow, aimed at him with every furtive look of disapproval she threw his way as she finished dressing and putting her hair to rights in the bathroom mirror.
But at least now he would not be foolish enough to hope that a marriage between them could be anything more than a temporary solution. He would not be so naïve as to believe she would come to do something as ridiculous as love him. But she would not marry the Frenchman or any of the others. She would marryhim.
He had walked away from Minerva once, leaving her alone to pick up the pieces, and he would not do that again. The next time he walked away from Arqaleta, it would be once she was seated firmly upon her throne and needed no one else to keep it.
He watched silently as she slipped her feet into her shoes one at a time, her voice a low monotone. ‘I need to speak to my mother alone. Discuss our options.’
‘Discuss me, you mean.’ He remained still. ‘Because, if marriage is on your agenda, I am the only eligible bachelor you will be selecting.’
Minerva closed her eyes. ‘You are...impossible.’
‘You can keep fighting me, but we’re not so different in this regard. Once I make up my mind on what I want, I get it.’
She shook her head, fists balled tightly at her sides. ‘You don’t want this. You don’t—’
‘What will you tell her about where you’ve been?’ He cut across her anger. ‘How will you explain how you of all people didn’t know my identity?’
‘You were gone a long time. I’ll tell her I wasn’t sure.’
‘You recognised me the moment you truly looked at me, Minerva. You knew me.’
He waited for her to respond, not knowing what he wanted her to say, only that they couldn’t leave things like this. He couldn’t be about to become engaged to the woman who had haunted his dreams for so long only to have her look at him as if he was the villain of her fairy-tale. As if she despised him. Or, worse, as if she was completely immune to him.
Another brief window of happiness before the world came crashing in... His mind mocked him as he watched Minerva get escorted by his security team to a waiting car, cameras flashing from the crowd of photographers up the street.
Their time on his yacht would now haunt him more than any of his other memories of her. He had walked away once before; he had forged a new path for himself knowing that he was giving her the freedom she deserved. He would not do that now. He would marry her if she still wished for it. He would enter a royal marriage of convenience. He would do it...even if it tore him apart.
But he would not submit to it without ensuring she had every other option available first. She was only in this situation because of the rules of the world she had been born into. And, as he had told her many times, he did not often like to play by the rules.
Decision made, he tapped his phone to call for an urgent meeting with his team at Magnabest. Likely they were all still celebrating their win and planning for the huge development project that lay ahead for them. They would not be pleased with what he was about to ask them to do. But, as he looked from his office windows in the direction of the palace, he knew this was what he needed to do.
Once back at the palace, Minerva threw herself into damage-control mode. Her mother was absolutely furious in a way that Minerva had not seen in a long time. Public scandal was always a difficult subject for her to navigate, and seeing her usually calm, controlled mama so stressed brought a heavy sense of shame upon her.
The news of Liro’s identity had swept through the kingdom with surprising swiftness, along with paparazzi photographs taken of them at the fair in Cisneros. The entire public relations team was already working overtime to try to ensure they had some control over the story.
‘Minerva, honestly, I thought that you had more sense than to be photographed in this way! When were these photographs taken?’
‘Two days ago...when I said that I was taking the evening to rest. Liro took me to a fair.’
