Page 151 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

‘I wasn’t really able to see them after that. My life became all about the crown.’

He made a deep noise of disapproval. ‘I’m sorry that no one in your life saw it as their role to care for you, as a person. Not just a future queen.’

‘My parents would have said that the duties to the country come first and they’d have been right. It’s just what it is.’

He looked as though he wanted to say something to contradict that, but she shook her head once, lifting a finger to his lips. ‘It’s why this short time with you means so much to me, Javier. We both know it’s temporary and why it has to be that way. But you’re the first person in a long time who’s made me feel like I’m someone beyond the crown. Who’s made me feel seen and valued. I don’t need these beautiful earrings to remember you, because that feeling will stay with me always.’ She stood onto the tips of her toes and kissed him, no longer able to feel the cold of the snowy night because, in his arms, she was flooded with warmth and pleasure. In his arms, not that she’d let herself acknowledge it, she felt utterly, perfectly complete. It was a Christmas miracle, but it was also something she was impossibly glad was almost at an end.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

IT WASN’T UNTIL the end of the banquet buffet she held for her staff and their families each Christmas morning that Astrid realised something was amiss. Out of nowhere, Anja was at her side, murmuring that it was time to move on, even when fifteen minutes were still scheduled for the buffet. Which immediately alerted Astrid to the possibility of a problem.

She stood once more and the room fell silent as she gave a heartfelt speech thanking the people who helped the palace run so seamlessly for their dedication and devotion. She then slipped from the banquet hall into a wide, black and white tiled corridor.

Anja stopped walking and turned to face the queen, her features a study in sympathy.

‘What is it?’

Stupidly, Astrid immediately thought of Javier, of something having happened to him, and she felt as though she was about to drop to the floor.

‘Please, tell me quickly,’ she whispered, her whole body shaking as she imagined his body destroyed, as her brother and father’s had been, by a car accident. The snow had fallen all night, the roads would be slippery…

Memories slammed into her. Unwelcome and ferocious. The car accident. The sound of steel on steel, shattering glass, distant, shouted voices. Groans, breaths—hard-fought-for, desperate, diminishing. Life leaving bodies right before her eyes.

Powerlessness.

She could hardly breathe herself now. It was as if she were back in that car again, trapped by a locked seatbelt and the angle of the vehicle, watching everyone she loved die. Only this time, Javier was there, too, his perfect body lifeless, his skin darkening in a slow-spreading bruise.

A feral, animalistic noise, unlike any other she’d ever made, garbled in her throat as she lifted her hands and pressed them to her lips. ‘Oh God, what’s happened,’ she pleaded, as the heart she’d sworn was safe, under lock and key, palpated with its own dark, desperate pain.

Anja held her phone out wordlessly, and Astrid took a second to steal herself to look at the screen. Javier was a well-known billionaire, a global business powerhouse. An accident would be newsworthy. But how could she bare to look? How could she bare not to? She glanced at the screen and felt as though reality was distorting completely.

As though their bubble had been violated.

As though she’d been violated in the worst possible way. The relief she might have felt at knowing he was okay was very short lived. She couldn’t rejoice in his safety, when their privacy had been laid bare—and the repercussions were immediate and inescapable. Nor could she be grateful, when those moments of sheer, blinding terror had been so incredibly evocative of a time she never wanted to relive.

There, on Anja’s phone screen, was a photograph of her and Javier on his balcony, taken hours earlier. ‘How on earth could they have known?’ she asked, looking at Anja then quickly back to the screen. She moved her finger swiftly to see another image, this time, with Astrid looking out, directly at the camera, and Javier standing behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder. Their faces were unmistakable. Though the image must have been taken from a long way away, those camera lenses were powerful. Even the star earrings were visible.

She thrust the phone back at Anja with a pit forming in her stomach. It wasn’t the end of the world. She was allowed to date. In truth, the desire to keep things private had really been because she didn’t want to have to go through the speculation, the gossip, but she’d wanted that as much for his sake as she had her own.

She’d have the palace release a statement and that would be the end of it. No further comment. But even as she thought of that clinical solution, she knew it was the beginning of the end. How could he come to the New Year’s Eve ball under these circumstances? All eyes would be on them. And how could she move quickly towards the marriage she knew she had to make, the fiancée she had to find, when the media would undoubtedly be talking about this for months to come?

All her plans had been meticulously made. She knew she had to marry and soon. The risk of anything happening to her without an heir was truly a worrying idea. But Javier would be all anyone spoke of and thought of…including her would-be king. Whomever that might be. For the moment, she couldn’t even contemplate marrying, though she knew it was inevitable.

‘It’s okay,’ she said, pushing all of her own feelings deep down inside of herself, including a sense of panic. ‘This isn’t a big deal.’

Anja’s brows drew together. ‘It’s not?’

‘I’m twenty-five. I’m allowed to date.’

Anja looked far from convinced. ‘I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.’

‘It’s not your fault.’ Though Anja and Enrique were the only people to know about her and Javier, she didn’t doubt either of them for even a second.

‘Palace security has reviewed footage. There was a bike at the gates last night. The photographer must have seen you get into the car and followed you to Mr Diamandi’s home.’

‘Yes,’ Astrid said softly. ‘That was always a risk.’

‘It should have been safe. You deserved this. A small amount of privacy. Your own life.’