For the next three days they barely spoke a word to each other. It was strange how they were able to find a routine without communicating. He would get up early in the morning and make coffee and disappear for a couple hours on a run. She would make breakfast and then do yoga out on the beach. He would come back and eat the left over breakfast alone.

They would do their own thing for the next few hours and snack around and then he always made dinner and she washed the dishes and cleaned up after. They were like roommates that really couldn't stand each other, but knew they had no choice but to put up with each other.

At dinner on the third day, they both sat there in awkward silence again and she was looking out at the ocean sipping her wine when he finally spoke up.

"Hey, I have an idea," he said, taking a sip of wine. "We have five days left on this island and we can make them as miserable and boring as the last three days or we could just start over with a fresh slate as friends instead of as a married couple and use the rest of the time we have here to relax and have fun."

"Friends?" she asked, swallowing hard, trying to tell if he was serious.

He had a straight face with no hint that he was joking.

"Yeah. Friends," he nodded, taking a bite of the chili he made.

"Ummm. Okay," she said hesitantly. "This week we'll be friends then." She figured being his friend was better than the silent treatment she had been getting.

He lifted up his wine glass in the air to toast and she lifted hers too and he said, "To friends."

"To friends," she said half-heartedly, letting out an exhale as she clinked her wine glass against his and took a sip.

She sat her wine glass down and took a bite of chili, trying to hide the hurt on her face. How was she supposed to be just his friend, especially after what they did on their wedding night?

"So I had an idea for us to get to know each other better," he said, taking another big bite. "It's a game they had us play at Eaton on the first day to break the ice and get to know everybody since we would all be living together. It was just like our situation. We were being forced to live with strangers."

"Ok. How does it go?" she asked.

He walked inside and grabbed two notebooks and two pens and handed her one of each. "So each of us writes down a list of all the things we want to know about the other person. All the questions you come up with for the other person you also have to answer about yourself."

"Okay," Eva nodded, feeling a little nervous and silly. She had no idea what to ask him about himself. She barely knew the guy, and what she did know of him she didn't like.

She took the notebook and pen from him and watched him start writing right away but she was still thinking.

Finally a few things came to her and she started writing down questions while she continued eating her food. A few minutes later she was finished and said, "Okay I'll start. What's your biggest fear?"

He thought for a second and looked down, pushing the chili around his bowl with his spoon. He got a far off gaze in his eyes and dropped his head before saying, "When I become King I'm afraid people will say I'm not as good of a King as my Dad. I'm going to have a whole country of people counting on me and I'm afraid of making the wrong decisions and having the people hate me."

Eva sat there, looking down at her food and she said, "Yeah. That's understandable. Being a King is a lot of pressure. She thought for a second and said, "My biggest fear is getting my heart broken. My best friend Astrid had her heart broken and she was so crushed she couldn't get out of bed for weeks and I was really worried about her. Luckily she finally moved on and got over him but it was hard."

Paulo took a bite of his chili and studied Eva's face and she wondered what he was thinking.

He reached over and picked up his notebook and said, "Ok. My turn. If you hadn't been born a Princess, what would you have wanted to be?"

"That's a hard one because there are so many things I love to do but if I absolutely had to pick just one it would be something political, like a trade negotiator or a translator. I already know yours. Rosalie said you wanted to be a competitive swimmer."

"Nah," he scoffed. "She was trying to talk me into that but I never really liked it. I would've actually wanted to be an actor. I was always really good in our theater productions at boarding school and one of my best mates became an actor and does movies now in America. Obviously I didn't have that option," he said, raising an eyebrow and letting out an exhale.

Eva looked across the table at him and thought he would have made a good actor. He would've been one of those heart throb guys that have flocks of screaming female fans stalking him. Eva knew how he felt. She never had the option of choosing her own career.

Paulo took another bite of his food, saying "Your turn."

She looked down at her paper, taking a second to get up the nerve to ask her next question.

"Do you wish you could have married Rosalie?" she asked, looking down at her hands, too embarrassed to look up at him.

"What?" he asked, and she raised her head and saw him scrunching up his face. "Where did that come from?"

"Rosalie. She ummmm. She came to visit me right before the wedding and she told me that you were in love with her and if you could marry anyone you wanted, it would be her."

His eyes widened and he laughed, shaking his head.

"No. She's delusional. I've never thought of Rosalie like that, not even a little bit. We're close but she's just a friend."

"Well, you said blondes with really big boobs were your type so I just assumed," she said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not interested in Rosalie at all. Not even a little bit. I can't believe she even said that to you," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Ok, your turn," she said, filling up her glass of wine again and his before taking another sip.

He looked down at his paper and said, "This is my last question. What's your biggest regret?"

She rolled that question around in her head before softly saying, "Being born a princess."

They both sat there in silence before he finally asked, "Why?"

She took a breath in and let it out as she swirled the wine around in her glass. "Because I want to know what true love feels like and now I'm sure I'll never know."

Just saying it out loud, hit her with more emotion than she was expecting and she bit into her bottom lip as it started to tremble and her eyes burned with tears.

As she breathed in, the air got caught in her throat and she sniffled, blinking away the tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping them away with a sniffle. "I didn't mean to get all emotional right now," she told him, fanning her eyes and trying to compose herself. "Okay," she said with an exhale. "What about you? What's your biggest regret?"

He looked at his wine glass, getting a far off look on his face like he was in deep thought.

"That I was the one that lived," he said so softly that she almost didn't hear him.

"What?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

He sat there in silence for a second before saying, "I used to have a little brother. He was only a year younger than me."

Eva's eyes widened in surprise. "What? I didn't know you had a brother."

"My family doesn't like to talk about it," he said with an exhale. "His name was Francisco but we called him Frank as a joke. When I was eight and he was seven we were in the woods behind the castle playing and all of a sudden Francisco started throwing up. Then he started having trouble walking and even standing up. I helped him back to the castle and my Mom called a doctor right away. He said he had a really high fever and they took him to the hospital to get checked out. They hooked all kinds of tubes up to him and I'll never forget sitting next to his hospital bed, holding his hand and begging him not to die."

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"He had bacterial meningitis and it was making his brain swell. They did everything they could but they couldn't save him," he said sadly, looking down at his wine glass with a far off look in his eye.

She looked over at him, seeing the pain and hurt in his eyes and said quietly, "I'm really sorry Paulo."

He lifted his head and his eyes were red.

"It should've been me instead. Francisco was a good kid. He always listened and did what he was supposed to and I was the one that was a screw up. The one that always got in trouble and couldn't follow the rules. It should've been me," he said, hanging his head and shaking it.

They sat there in silence and she wasn't sure what to say or do to make him feel better.

He finally cleared his throat and stood up and said, "It's been a long day. I think I'm ready for bed."

He grabbed the plates and wine glasses and carried them inside while she sat there watching him go.

When she finally went in the house she heard the shower going so she changed into a black silk nightgown and slipped under the covers. He came out a few minutes later in just a pair of boxers drying his hair off with a towel. He climbed into bed and they laid there in silence for a minute.

Finally she said, "I have one last question for you."

"Okay," he whispered.

It took her a second to get up the nerve, feeling knots in her stomach as she asked, "Were you disgusted by having sex with me?"

There was silence for a second before he asked, "Do you want the truth?"

"Yes?" she said hesitantly, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer.