Chapter 437: Meeting the Prince

Ella and Sinclair moved aside as Cora approached me. We fussed over the baby, ensuring he was comfortable. Once ready, I turned him to face the guests who had come for the coronation weekend.

Following our plan, Cora, Rafe, and I entered the room with Conner close behind. Our strategy was to remain within sight of our mates while allowing individuals private conversations.

It worked. Many people, mostly women, introduced themselves to Cora and me. I was pleased; I'd suspected that the women in the delegations might be less intimidated approaching two women—one pregnant, one holding a baby—than the imposing Sinclair brothers.

The result was delightful conversation. I met fascinating women eager to discuss their lives, their nations' futures, and potential collaborations. Cora and I were genuinely enthusiastic about working together to improve the world.

"Wow," I said to Cora after speaking with a dowager queen and her granddaughter, the heir to her throne. "It's incredible. I had no idea these nations even existed."

"I know," Cora murmured, running a hand through her hair. "Ella, we need to go back to school—we're unprepared for our roles. We need serious history lessons."

"You go," I sighed. "Just give me the Wikipedia version. I'm done with formal schooling."

"But you were good at school!" Cora protested, appalled.

"I was good," I replied, raising an eyebrow, "but not addicted to it like you were. Honestly, Cora, you'd still be in school if there were more degrees to get."

"That's probably true" Cora sighed, putting her hands on her hips and tilting her head.

I laughed, then Rafe let out a distressed cry. I smelled something unpleasant and realized he needed changing. Anxiously, I looked for the nearest bathroom with a changing area. Honestly, it's my house—I should know where it is!

"Here," Cora offered, reaching for Rafe. "Let me."

"Cora, I can't—"

"Let me," she insisted, taking Rafe. "You're needed here more. Go talk to Roger and Sinclair. Conner and I will change the baby. It'll take a while, and the Queen should be…doing Queen things."

Though I hated handing him over again, I sighed, "All right." Rafe seemed happy, smiling at his aunt and reaching for her cheeks. Cora laughed, winked at me, and briefed Conner.

I sought out my mate, spotting him across the room speaking with several Alphas, flanked by Henry and Roger. I approached, taking a circuitous route to avoid being stopped for conversation.

I almost made it—three-quarters of the way—when someone stepped into my path. I took a deep breath, adopting my Queenly expression—calm, smiling, interested—and looked up.

My smile faltered. It was him.

"My Queen," the Prince of Atalaxia said, bowing formally. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

I stiffened, ironically amused. He stood, staring expectantly. I stood silent, unsure what to say.

A smile played on his lips.

"Can I take your silence to mean…" he said softly, "…that it's not precisely a pleasure?"

Something in his self-deprecation, the warmth in his voice…my smile widened.

"Whether or not it's a pleasure to speak with you, Highness, is…complicated," I replied, laughing lightly.

He bowed his head, chuckling softly. "Honestly, I warned them against surprising you like this."

"Then why did you do it?" I asked, stepping closer, wanting to see his face.

His light blue-violet eyes—a surprise under his dark hair—met mine.

"I don't know," he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. "They spent hours deciding. It was deliberate."

"And you weren't privy to those meetings?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm my father's sixth son, Highness," he sighed, smiling sadly. "I'm a figurehead, privy to nothing important. Forgive me. I wish I could tell you more."

Something in his tone made me believe him. He would tell me if he could.

He smiled again. I realized I'd been silent for thirty seconds. Embarrassed, I straightened. He grinned, a dimple appearing on his cheek. He extended a hand.

"I'm Calvin," he said. "And honestly, Your Highness, it is…more than a pleasure to meet you."

Slowly, I reached for his hand. A deep pulse resonated through me as our hands met, followed by a sharper, lighter pulse—a spark. I jumped, trying to pull away, but he held my hand tightly.

All expression left his face as he stared in shock.

We stood, palm to palm, far too long, until someone cleared their throat. I looked up into my mate's stern face, my hand clasped in our enemy's.

"Ella," Sinclair said, his eyes flicking to the Prince. "Are you…all right?"

"Yes!" I gasped, pulling my hand away. "Yes, Dominic," I said, regaining composure and smiling, stepping closer. "I was greeting our guest," I said, gesturing to the Prince.

Sinclair's gaze hardened as he turned to the Prince.