𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 | ✎

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐

My leg bounces up and down anxiously as I wait for Sofia to finish getting me ready. She's on the last touch—adding white flowers to my braided hair. She's getting me ready for an important meeting with the Royal Court today, and I have a feeling it has something to do with me taking over the throne after marrying Prince Marco.

"Done!" Sofia smiles and steps back to admire her work. But she starts frowning when she notices the look on my face. "It's going to be alright, Princess," she whispers reassuringly. "You'll do just fine."

I let out a sigh of relief at Sofia's comforting words; however, the effect doesn't last long. I'm a nervous wreck. I barely enjoy being a princess as it is. The thought of becoming the next queen is still surreal to me, but I know I have no choice. I have to be strong and do what's right for Italy.

But then I suddenly feel a pain in my heart, as if someone's squeezing it with their hands. I groan and sink out of my seat, dropping onto my marble bedroom floor. Clutching my chest in pain, I gasp sharply for air.

Sofia comes down right beside me, putting a freshly manicured hand on my shoulder. "Deep breaths, Princess." The handmaid meets my gaze squarely, her presence enough to soothe me. "Breathe with me. One...two..." She pauses, and we both take the last breath. "Three. You're doing great."

After a few moments, my respiration returns to normal, and I stand up. I'm ready. Before I head out the door, though, I make sure to give Sofia a tight squeeze. She returns my loving embrace and whispers inspiring words in my ear. When she finally lets me go, I head out into the hallway.

Alex is leaning back against the wall in his midnight blue Brioni suit. The perfectly tailored jacket fits him like a glove, showcasing his broad shoulders and perfect physique. His dark blonde hair is tousled, yet it still looks neat. I also notice the small bandage on the side of his head from where he was bleeding after that incident two days ago. But those bright blue eyes of his look sharper than ever, taking away from the white bandage.

"Ready?" His hand extends out to me, and I take it immediately with a nod in response. He pulls me closer to him and walks with me to the throne room, where the Royal Court usually meets.

I can feel my anxiety spiking up, and my heart beats rapidly in my chest. My free hand starts fidgeting with my hair nervously, but Alex notices. "You don't have anything to worry about," he whispers in my ear. "I'm here."

While the words make my stomach do flips, I doubt any reassurance is going to take away from the fact that I'm going to have a mental breakdown any second. I've never been up in front of the Royal Court myself—I've only been there to watch the meetings that go in occasionally.

"I don't know," I suddenly blurted out. "What if it looks like I'm trying too hard? Oh my god, my hair. What if it's too fancy and it makes me look horri—"