“I wouldn’t know. I strive for a more simple and useful existence.”
“Do you want to dress for dinner?”
She looked down at the simple, shapeless dress she was wearing. It was blue and flowered, the sweater she had over it navy and button-down, hanging open and concealing her curves entirely, whatever those curves might look like. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Really?”
“I’m not exactly given to materialism these days, and unless you were dead set on looking at my figure,” she said dryly, as though it were the most ridiculous thing on the planet, “I fail to see why you should be disappointed. I’m clean, my clothing is serviceable. I don’t know what more you could possibly need from me. If I am to be an accessory in your attempt at being seen by your people as palatable, then I’m sure my more conservative style could be to your advantage.”
“I don’t think that was what people liked about you.”
“Perhaps not, but it can’t be helped,” she said, her voice tart.
She bowed her head, brown hair falling forward. “You used to sparkle,” he said, not sure where the words came from, or why he’d voiced them.
She looked up at him, fire burning in her golden eyes. “And I used to be beautiful. Things change.”
He pushed away from the door, and images from the past fifteen years—the casinos, the women—rolled through his mind. “Yes, they do. I’ll see you at dinner.”
He turned and walked out of the room, back down the corridor. And he got lost again on the way back to his room.
This damned palace was never going to feel like home. But he’d been a lot of places in the past fifteen years and none of them felt like home, either.
He was starting to believe it was a place that simply didn’t exist for him.
CHAPTER FOUR
HE’D MADE HER feel self-conscious about her dress. More than that, his words had sliced through her like a knife, hitting her square in a heart she’d assumed would be invulnerable to such things.
I used to be beautiful. Things change.
Yes, they certainly did.
She was realistic about the situation with her face. Fifteen years of living with it, and there was no other option. It had been hard. She’d been a woman defined by her looks, by her position in the public eye, and in one moment, it had all changed.
She was still a woman defined by her looks. But people didn’t like what they saw.
The press called her disfigured. The former beauty. The walking dead.
Going out into the town had meant a chance she’d get her photo taken, and that meant a chance she’d appear in the news the next day.
It had driven her deeper into her own darkness. Into isolation. It had been hell. And she’d had to escape.
Finding a way to a new life had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. Her family hadn’t known what to do with her, they hadn’t known how to help her. Their existence had been shaken, too. Their promised position as in-laws to the royal family vanished.