Lone Prince (Royally Unexpected #7) - Lilian Monroe Page 0,72

that slices across my chest when I say it aloud. I blink, trying to regain control over my aching body. “Will she be here?”

Penelope interlaces her fingers and rests them on the desk. She takes a deep breath and finally shrugs. “I told her it was her choice. We’ll break ground before she comes up here, but we’ll need her approval for some of the later stages of construction. That can be done through photos and email, but…”

“You’ve been talking to her?” Am I jealous of my sister for that? This ache in my chest feels like betrayal.

Penelope arches an eyebrow. “I had to take over the project, Wolfe. You left.”

Shame burns all the way down my throat. I left, when I should have stayed. I should have fought. I should have told Rowan how I felt, but I lost my chance.

She might not even come up here for the project that was meant to be the defining moment of her career.

I took that away from her.

“I’ll leave,” I say to my sister. “Rowan should be here. She deserves to see this project in person.”

My sister’s face softens ever so slightly. She dips her chin in agreement, then the stone mask returns to her features. I stand up, take my leave, and walk out of the office.

My feet take me next door to the library, where once again, I’m assaulted with memories of Rowan. She spent so many hours in here, drinking up scraps of information that she poured into the design.

I stare at the ashes in the fireplace before letting my gaze drift to the window, where the sun shines bright and snow melts all around.

This is as much her palace as it is mine, but I’ll never get to share that with her.

30

Rowan

My second trip up to the Summer Palace of Nord is very different than my first. Grandma and I are flown on a private jet directly from Farcliff to the airstrip a short drive from the palace. No cramped train ride with too-small seats. A private car is there to pick us up when we land, complete with a driver in a crisp black uniform who opens the back door of the car for us. He gives Grandma a warm smile as she greets him by name.

It’s the beginning of May, and there’s no howling gale outside. The sky is blue and although it’s still fresh outside, the snow is mostly melted and the whole landscape is green and lush. Only the tops of the mountains and particularly shady spots have remnants of snow still clinging to the earth. A bird sings in a nearby tree, and the air tastes sweet.

Settled in the back seat, Grandma threads her fingers through mine and I lean my head against her shoulder. She spent the winter in Farcliff with me, helping me prepare for the arrival of the baby. I’m thirty weeks pregnant now. I’ll be a mother in ten short weeks. Less than three months. Panic and excitement are still waging war within me, as they have every day since I found out about my pregnancy.

If all goes to plan, I’ll see the visitor’s cottage completed this week, and do some final approvals on details of the main palace design. I’ve been communicating with the site team via email and phone, but I’ve come up here to help with the millions of little architectural decisions that need to be made to complete the project. In a few months, both my babies will come to life.

I’m not sure I’ll get to see the full palace restoration. Maybe one day. By the time it’s finished, in September, I’ll have a new baby. My life will be different. Coming up to the Arctic Circle won’t be a priority. The Queen promised pictures, so that’s what I’ll have.

“There will be flowers everywhere in a week or two,” Grandma says, sighing happily. Her eyes shine as she squeezes my hand, shifting her gaze to the tinted windows of the royal vehicle.

The Prince was right. It’s very different here in springtime, and I can only imagine how beautiful the height of summer will be. I let out a soft sigh, ignoring the clenching of my heart.

I know I made the right decision. There were no paparazzi following me in Farcliff. After the first flurry of articles about my affair with the Prince, the gossip died down. Once I left, there was nothing to feed the rumor mill. My life went back to normal, but