“Here. Here,” said another man I vaguely knew to be part of the prime minister’s staff, leaning forward. “My wife is a good fifteen years older than me and had two children before we were married. If you only knew what my heart has endured chasing after her.”
I lifted my glass to him. “May they write fondly of you, Mr—forgive me. What was your name again?”
“Mr. Horvath. Mikel Horvath, Your Highness,” he replied.
“Pleasure.”
And it truly was because Mr. Horvath seemed to be like a shield and sword in tall grass, directing and creating paths for new conversation whenever the prime minister, his wife, or his party members seemed to want to push their ideology upon us. Notably quiet was Sabina, who ate and kept her attention on the guest who had invited her. It felt like it had gone on far too long before Balduin finally managed some excuse to free me from this.
I all but ran from the table. I told them all not to bother to see me off, and instead, to finish their meal, following Balduin toward the front. We had almost made it out before I heard her voice.
“You do not think you are being too cold?”
I paused, and Balduin looked at me.
And when I nodded at him, he stepped to the side, opening the door to the prime minister’s study. I allowed her in first before stepping inside. She turned to me, her arms crossed, and her eyes soft and downcast. But I wouldn’t fall for it. I knew her well enough, and I knew myself well enough.
“No, I do not,” I answered. “This is how I have always been with you, Sabina. Never have I ever promised or shown to you that there would be anything more. You were a friend—”
“A friend?”
“Yes, a friend, who helped me when I needed it. And I thank you. But I told you in the beginning, so I did not think I had to repeat it, but I shall now, so you do not keep appearing in front of my fiancée or me. There will never be a ‘you and me.’ Ever. Goodnight.”
“I know you. I’ll see you at your next crisis—”
“Did you see me at my last one?” I asked her. “My brother died. That was the biggest crisis of my life. And the person who was with me at that moment is the person who will be with me in the future. Please, Sabina, stop, for all of our sakes. Stop.”
I didn’t wait to hear any more. Instead, I walked back out to where Balduin was still waiting, not just him but Ivan. Ivan smiled and nodded at me. And never more did I want to punch a man in the face.
“Thank you for dinner,” was all I said instead.
“The pleasure is ours, Your Highness.”
I couldn’t get into the car fast enough. I didn’t wave at the reporters, who were still waiting outside. I couldn’t even look back. I sat in my seat and urged them to go. It was only when I saw the red door fading in the background that I relaxed, rubbing my temple as I felt a headache coming. I thought of Sabina. Would she really just drop it? How would Ivan somehow twist all of this to paint me as some horrid villain? The playboy, womanizing prince. Once again, I could hear my brother lecturing me for my past. Was it Sabina’s fault for still trying? Or my fault for going to her before, knowing full well I’d one day have to toss her aside?
“Iskandar, am I an asshole?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
I scoffed, dropping my hand to look at him. “You could not have hesitated?”
“Sorry, sir. Are you an asshole?” He was silent for a good twenty seconds before saying, “Yes, sir.”
I shifted my gaze to Balduin, who nodded as he checked his messages.
“How unfortunate it must be for you all,” I grumbled.
“We all have assholes in us, sir,” Balduin replied. “It’s the better parts that make us overlook or forget.”
“Are you saying I am more of a better person than I am an asshole?” I didn’t know if I should be happy about how they phrased all of this.
“Exactly, sir.”
I chuckled. “Thank you. I think.”
Chapter 21
Upon returning to the palace, I immediately went to the cherry gardens, knowing she’d be there, waiting, even if I were this late. And sure enough, there she was dressed in a flowing white gown with her hair pulled up into a