Let The Games Begin

Chapter 4: Part 3

It didn't feel like I was on a date with a king.

King Simon was the epitome of casual in a pair of dark jeans and a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up at the elbows. His sandy brown hair was artfully mussed. He looked like the boy next door.

I felt slightly−no, extremely−overdressed in the powder-blue strapless summer dress my mother had picked out for me, with my face made up like it was all or nothing. It was all or nothing. My mother had scathingly informed me that Simon had taken Dominique out for a romantic dinner−a very public romantic dinner−just the other night.

"Dinner is a romantic gesture," Mother had exclaimed. "Those luncheons the King has with you? They're a gesture for an old duchess−far from romantic. You must look your best."

But Simon had probably made up his mind already. I hadn't seen him in weeks. For all I knew, today's late lunch date was Simon's way of letting me down easy.

I made my way through the palace doors with trepidation, Simon's presence beside me providing little reassurance that I had the chance to become his wife.

Instead of going to the drawing room, Simon led me out onto a balcony of sorts−a little sunlit enclave with a spread of food on a table right in the centre of it. Ever the gentleman, he pulled my chair out before taking his own seat opposite mine.

"How are you, Helena?" he asked politely, pouring a glass of juice for me.

I looked at the bottle of red wine sitting on the table, positive that my eyes were filled with yearning.

Simon chuckled. "Would you prefer wine instead?"

"Please," I replied, holding out my wine glass for him to fill up.

Simon uncorked the bottle with little difficulty, and I breathed a sigh of relief when my glass was half-full.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said with another one of his endearing smiles. He poured himself a glass as well. "So, as I was saying, how are you?"

I chugged my wine down. I feel guilty. Pathetic. Horrible. "I'm fine. And you?"

"Tired," he admitted with a heavy sigh.

"Of me?"

"No. Never. Tired of this whole thing, really." He shook his head. "I apologize. I don't mean to imply that I'm tired of your company."

"Too many women for you to handle?" I asked, and then I smacked a hand over my mouth, glaring at the wine. "I apologize."

Simon smiled. "Don't. Your candour is appreciated. I would prefer you to be completely honest with me than to lie to my face." His eyes glimmered with what could only be described as mischief. "If you must know, I can handle all of you just fine, thank you very much."
I arched a brow, refilling my glass before taking a long gulp of it. "Oh? I'd imagine that you'd rather only handle Dominique Stewart."

Simon's face was blank, and I instantly wondered if I'd overstepped. Perhaps he didn't want anyone to know how he truly felt about Dominique, but if that were the case, he shouldn't have been wearing his heart on his sleeve whenever she was in the vicinity.

"This man you love," Simon surprised me by starting carefully. "Does he know about our...courtship?"

I stared at my quickly depleting glass of wine. "Yes."

I could feel Simon's gaze on me. "If he truly loved you, he wouldn't allow you to be here with me."
I let out a bitter laugh, my eyes flicking up to look at him. "You're the king."