Temporarily His Princess - By Olivia Gates Page 0,40

was coming from above.

It took a moment to realize its direction then see its origin. A helicopter.

“The Castaldinian Air Force One, rotorcraft edition.” Vincenzo gazed at her over his shoulder, his eyes grave. “Seems Ferruccio couldn’t wait to meet my future bride.”

Hot needles sprouted behind her eyes. She didn’t want to meet anyone. She wasn’t even a counterfeit bride now.

He turned, expression wiped clean. “Please say nothing while he’s here. I’ll resolve things with him later.”

She only nodded numbly, making no reaction when he took her hand and led her from the terrace and down the stairs he’d carried her up what felt like a lifetime ago.

By the time they exited the castle, the helicopter was landing in the courtyard, the revolving blades spraying the fountain water at them. Glory shuddered at the touch of the warm mist, cold spreading in her bones.

As the rotors slowed down, a man stepped down from the pilot’s side. She recognized him on sight. So the king flew himself here. And without guards or fanfare. It said so much about him and his status in Castaldini.

But all photos and footage hadn’t done him justice. He’d looked exceptional in those. But the man was way more than that. He was on par with Vincenzo in looks and physique. He could even pass for his brother.

King Ferruccio rushed in strides laden with urgency and power to the passenger side as it opened. In moments, his arms went around the waist of a golden vision of a woman, lifting her down as if he was handling his own heart.

“And the king has brought his queen,” she heard Vincenzo mutter over the rotor’s dying whirs. “Or maybe it’s the other way around. She must be thrilled to see me entering the gilded cage at last.”

Glory’s heart contracted on what felt like thorns on hearing his words, and more as she watched the regal couple advance hand in hand, their bond blatant in their every nuance.

What attention they didn’t have focused on each other, they had trained on her. She looked from one to the other, feeling like a specimen under a microscope.

Queen Clarissa was what Glory had always imagined fairy queens to look like. In a sleeveless floor-length lilac dress and high-heeled matching sandals, she stood maybe an inch or two taller than Glory, with the body of a woman who’d been ripened by the satisfaction and pampering of a powerful man’s constant passion, by bearing his children. From the top of her golden head to her toes, she glowed in the afternoon sun as if she was made of its radiance. Glory could easily believe she had angels in her lineage.

King Ferruccio was as tall as Vincenzo, another overpoweringly handsome D’Agostino. There was no doubt the same blood ran in their veins. They had almost identical coloring, too. But that was where the similarities ended.

While Vincenzo was imposing, Ferruccio was intimidating. If his wife was the benevolent breed of angel, he was the avenging variety. And it had nothing to do with the way he looked. It was in his eyes. His vibe. This was a man who’d seen and done unspeakable things…and had those things done to him. Which made sense. He’d grown up an illegitimate boy on the streets, one who’d dragged himself from the dirt to the very top. She could only imagine what he’d been through, what had shaped him into the man who was now undisputedly the best king in Castaldini’s history. She felt no one could know the scope of his depths, and those of his sufferings and complexities.

No one but his wife, that was.

They seemed to share a soul.

It hurt to see them together, to feel the love arcing between them in a closed circuit of harmony. What she’d once thought she’d had with Vincenzo.

Vincenzo, who was still holding her hand as they stopped two feet away from the couple, making her feel as if he couldn’t let go of it. When he was letting her go completely.

Hand still entwined with hers Vincenzo bowed before his king and queen, his other hand flat palmed over his heart, in the Castaldinian royal salute.

What was she supposed to do? Bow, too? Curtsy?

Before her muscles unlocked, Vincenzo straightened, his face softening on a smile that she’d only seen before when he’d been talking about Clarissa.

With an arm going around her waist, he gave Queen Clarissa a tender hug with his other arm, kissing her gently on her cheek, before raising one eyebrow at