The Royal Games

Chapter 25

Recap:

I pile my plate full of food, grinning in anticipation. "Thanks."

"It's ok. I want to talk to you." He murmurs.

"I don't think-"

"Please?"

His pleading cuts me off, and I feel my resolve crumbling.

"Fine."

Exposed

Stefan leads me to his room. I realise I've never actually been in here before. And I'm surprised at how, well, ordinary it looks like. His king sized bed sports blue duvet covers and pillow cases and his bedside table simply has a lamp and clock on. Along his left wall is a floor to ceiling wardrobe and chest of drawers, and there are windows against the wall the headboard of his bed rests, either side of his bed. He has a few posters - sports mostly by the look of it. Football, boxing and a couple of posters with cars on.

"It looks so normal." I blurt, taking in the bundles of clothes that litter his floor.

"What were you expecting?" I turn around to see him leaning against his wall with his arms crossed, an amused smirk on his face and an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know - gold?" I deadpan.

"Whatever, make yourself com-" he pauses upon seeing I have already placed my plate of food on his bedside table, kicked of my shoes and am now proceeding to curl up on his bed. "Make yourself at home." He mutters, rolling his eyes, a small smile on his lips as he mimics my exact words from the first time he came to my room.

"Thank you! I will do." I mimic in reply, smiling innocently.

"I'm sorry Rose." His apology sobers the mood somewhat so I sit up, plumping his pillows so I can lean back in comfort. I eye the plate of food next to me but my appetite seems to have disappeared. Great.

"I'm getting kind of tired of hearing your apologies Stefan."

"I know. You're right; you deserve so much more but please just let me explain myself. I really am sorry Rose."

"You don't have to apologise." I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose to steady my breathing. As much as it hurts to think about - to admit - he doesn't owe me anything. "Like I said before, it was always going to be you and Matilda. We've already covered this Stefan. You don't owe me anything."

"I didn't want to take her riding." He continues anyway. "Father wanted me to show off our stables and she begged me to take her out. When we found the clearing she insisted we stop for a while. I really didn't want to; I didn't even intentionally take her past that clearing. It just sort of happened."

His explanation doesn't sound so far fetched but what difference does it make? What's the point of making up when there's no hope of returning to what was before.

"It doesn't matter. Stefan, it's ok. I'm ok. You don't need to explain yourself to me. Let's just leave it. Please?"

He comes to sit next to me, pulling me into his arms. "But I don't want to. I don't want to loose you."

"Then you're being selfish." I murmur quietly.

"I know I just, I can't help myself." Placing a finger under my chin he gently moves my face and tilts it upwards so I'm looking into his eyes directly. "You make me selfish. And yet I know I have to say away from you... You make me want to give up this whole thing, to give up being King and just choose you."

I peer up at him from beneath my lashes. "But you can't. And you won't." I pause, dreading the next words to come. "I think - I think you need to send me home Stefan." The words feel wrong as I say them and I feel my throat constricting as it dries up.