Chap­ter 34: Brid­get

“IS EVERYTHING OKAY?” SABRINA ASKED AFTER I EXITED THE BATHROOM. She’d knocked to check on me, and I real­ized I’d been gone for almost half an hour.

“Yes. I just had to deal with some last-minute prep for an event next week,” I said, ashamed of how eas­i­ly the lie rolled off my tongue. “Apolo­gies.”

“No need to apol­o­gize.” Sab­ri­na ges­tured to her sis­ter and best friend, who’d passed out on the couch while The Dev­il Wears Pra­da played on-screen. “At least you’re awake.”

I let out a small laugh. “We should go to sleep soon. You have a big day tomor­row.”

“You’re prob­a­bly right. I can’t believe it’s almost here.” Sab­ri­na fid­dled with her engage­ment ring, look­ing over­whelmed and a lit­tle lost. “It feels sur­re­al. I want­ed a small wed­ding, but…”

“You got a three-ring cir­cus?” I sank onto the couch next to her. “Wel­come to the roy­al life. Even if Nik abdi­cat­ed, he’s still a roy­al by blood, and every­thing he does is a reflec­tion of the crown.”

“I know. I just hope I don’t embar­rass myself.” Sab­ri­na gave me a ner­vous smile before her expres­sion grew seri­ous. “Brid­get, I know we don’t know each oth­er that well, but I want­ed to thank you for agree­ing to be part of my bridal par­ty. Tru­ly. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course. You’re going to be my sis­ter-in-law.”

When Niko­lai first told me about his abdi­ca­tion, I resent­ed her. It wasn’t some­thing I was proud of, but it was true. If he hadn’t met Sab­ri­na, he’d still be Crown Prince, and I’d be liv­ing my life in New York.

But as I stared at her now, I real­ized I wouldn’t go back to my life in the U.S. even if I could. It had been an illu­sion of free­dom, noth­ing else. I’d been trapped in the same day-in, day-out monot­o­ny of fake smiles and mind-numb­ing events. Being crown princess came with more rules and a small­er cage, but it also came with more pur­pose, and that was the one thing that’d always been miss­ing in my life. Some­how, some­where along the way, I’d grown into my new role. It would take a while before I was ful­ly com­fort­able with it, but I was get­ting there.

“Yes. Good ones, I hope.” Sab­ri­na squeezed my hand. “I love Niko­lai, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not hap­py he abdi­cat­ed. But I also know what a huge bur­den it placed on you, and for that, I’m sor­ry.”

“No apolo­gies need­ed. You did noth­ing wrong except fall in love.”

I knew that. I’d always known that. But it wasn’t until I said it at that moment that any lin­ger­ing resent­ment I had toward Niko­lai and Sab­ri­na fad­ed away.

It wasn’t their fault. There were no wrong choic­es. If Niko­lai had cho­sen the throne over Sab­ri­na, it would’ve been dev­as­tat­ing for him, but it would’ve been under­stand­able. If he’d cho­sen Sab­ri­na, as he had, that was under­stand­able too. Love or coun­try. An impos­si­ble choice when the future of a nation rests on your shoul­ders.

The only thing at fault was the sys­tem that forced him to choose.

“My broth­er adores you,” I added. Niko­lai and I weren’t super close, but I knew him well enough to spot the dif­fer­ence. He changed into a dif­fer­ent per­son when he was around Sab­ri­na, a hap­pi­er one, and I would nev­er begrudge him that.

Sabrina’s face lit up, eras­ing some of the ear­li­er stress. “It still feels like a dream some­times,” she admit­ted. “To meet some­one who sees me for who I am, faults and all, and loves me regard­less.” She squeezed my hand again, her eyes wise beyond her twen­ty-five years. “I hope you find that kind of love one day, too. Whether it’s with Stef­fan or some­one else.”

Trust me, princess. I would rather end my own life than ask you to do any­thing that might hurt you.

I forced a smile. “One day.”

But lat­er that night, as I stared at the ceil­ing and thought about Rhys, Stef­fan, and my less-than-cer­tain efforts to repeal the Roy­al…