Royally Unexpected: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection

by Lilian Monroe

  It might be silly, but even being less clumsy makes me think that things might just work out. It’s like it’s a sign from the Universe telling me that things are looking up.

  “Oh, Dahlia.” Elle—or, Queen Elle, as she’s now known—stands up to stop me. She puts her hand on Charlie’s shoulder and a smile drifts over her lips.

  “What is it?”

  “Well,” Elle glances from me to my parents. “Since we’re all here, I was hoping to ask you something.” Her eyes are shining. Charlie reaches up to squeeze her hand as it rests on his shoulder.

  “Okay.”

  Elle takes a deep breath. “Would you be Charlie’s godmother? The christening is next week. You’ve been there for both Charlie and me for a long time, and I can’t think of anyone better.”

  My mother’s face breaks into a smile and my heart skips a beat. I suck in a breath, and the room stills.

  This feels significant. My mother was named Charlie’s godmother, before everything went to shit. Before the murder of the Queen, before the exile, before our family name was dirt.

  Elle’s eyes widen and she stares at me expectantly.

  Maybe this is a way to make up for the past. Maybe this time around, we can do things right. Naming me godmother would send a very clear message about the Raventhal name, and what it means in Farcliff. We wouldn’t be the butt of bad jokes anymore. I wouldn’t have to hide who I really am.

  I’d be the Crown Prince’s godmother. My own mother would be redeemed, and we could all move on with our lives.

  I could tell Damon about the baby without being afraid that I’d be thrown out or disgraced.

  “Well?” Elle says softly.

  I nod, smiling. “Of course, Elle—er, Your Majesty. I’d be honored.”

  “Don’t you start calling me Your Majesty,” she laughs, striding toward me. She wraps me in a tight hug, squeezing me to her breast. “Thank you, Dahlia.”

  “Thank you, and you, Charlie.”

  The King smiles. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I glance at my mother and father, who both nod at me gently. Their demeanor has changed over the past week. They’re no longer wracked with worry. My mother stands up and glides toward me, putting her hands on my shoulders. She smiles at me and kisses my cheek.

  “I’m proud of you,” she whispers.

  My heart flutters. I’m beaming, staring at each of them in turn. I walk over to baby Charlie and kiss his forehead. Then, I straighten up and take a deep breath.

  “I’m going to be late for class.”

  Elle grins at me, and nods as if to say I can go. Within just a couple of months, she’s already become regal.

  I slip out of the door and float all the way to campus. Being the Prince’s godmother is an incredible honor, and my heart is soaring.

  After my mother’s reaction to that news, I know that I can tell her about Damon and me. I know that my mother is beginning to overcome her fear of Farcliff, and there’s a real chance she’ll approve of me dating one of the princes…

  …and if I can tell my parents about my relationship, maybe I can tell Damon about the baby, too.

  I make it through the whole day of classes with a smile on my face, and then make my way to the lab for work. When I walk in, I’m not afraid of breaking the glass instruments or tripping over some expensive equipment. I feel confident, and comfortable, and most importantly, I feel like everything might just turn out alright.

  28

  Damon

  My residency is becoming more like an endurance marathon than a learning experience. Nights are long and slow, and the tiredness seeps into my bones. Even day shifts are grueling.

  I haven’t been seeing much of Dahlia, but we spend every minute we can together. Even when I’m off, I spend my time reading, studying, and doing paperwork. She studies alongside me, and my love for her grows every day.

  I never thought I’d say that word—love. But it’s there, simmering just under the surface. It’s budding in my heart, slowly pushing out the darkness that resided there before.

  Tonight, I’m midway through my ICU rotation. It’s a busy night. There are a few incidents in Grimdale, including a couple of gunshot wounds that my shift has to deal with.

  In the moment, when the patients come in, I’m focused, clear-headed and ready to do the work. As soon as it’s over, though, I find a quiet supply closet in the hospital and sink down onto the floor.

  Dropping my head in my hands, I take a few deep, raking breaths.

  Not for the first time, I wonder if this is really what I want to do. I’m giving up a life of luxury for this. I’ve worked hard for years to get to where I am, but now that I’m here, I’m not so sure it’s what I really want to do.

  Why did I go into medicine in the first place?

  I don’t even know what time it is. The hospital is like a time warp. Leaning my head against the steel shelves stacked with cleaning products, I pull my phone out of my pocket to see a message from Dahlia.

  Dahlia: I have some good news :)

  A smile stretches over my face and my heart beats a little easier.

  Damon: What is it?

  Dahlia: I’ll tell you when I see you.

  I grin. Dahlia lifts my mood every single time I talk to her—even if it’s only a short text. I slip my phone back into my pocket and heave myself up to my feet. My legs are sore and my feet are aching. I rub my palms over my face and take a deep breath before pushing the door open again.

  My attending physician is at the end of the hospital. She waves at me. “Come on. We’ve got another one.”

  I end up sleeping on one of the couches in the staff lounge for two or three hours, and then having to get up for my next shift.

  It’s grueling, but when I drag my feet to the cafeteria and shovel down some food before I start work, I don’t feel as despondent as I did this morning. This is what I want to do.

  Yes, I’m giving up a lot to do it, but it’s my calling. I want to help people—even if it means working long hours.

  I’m tired, but I’m happy.

  I text Dahlia again around dinnertime, telling her that I probably won’t be at the castle for at least another day. If the hospital is as busy tonight as it was last night, I’m not sure when I’ll see the outside world again.

  My phone rings a couple minutes later.

  “Hey,” she says. “Stuck at the hospital?”

  “Yeah.” I’m sitting in the cafeteria, watching the other doctors, nurses, and hospital staff shuffle from one side of the room to the other. Everyone looks tired.

  I take a deep breath. “What was this big news? I don’t think I can wait a whole other day.”

  Dahlia laughs, and the sound soothes my soul. I don’t know what I did before her—everything is easier with her in my life. A smile drifts over my lips, and I let out a sigh.

  “Well,” she says slowly, savoring the drama of the moment. “Charlie and Elle asked me to be little Charlie’s godmother!”

  I smile, leaning my head in my hand as I listen to her. Dahlia’s voice is full of life and love, and it gives me strength.

  “That’s great,” I say. “I wonder who they’ll choose as the godfather.”

  “I was thinking that maybe we should tell them we’ve been seeing each other.”

  I straighten up, my eyebrows arching in surprise. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s been a couple of months and nothing disastrous has happened.” She laughs and I can imagine her scrunching her nose. “My parents seem really happy to be back in Farcliff. I think it might be a good time to tell them about us.”

  “I agree,” I say. I’ve been waiting for this. As much fun as sneaking around is, what I really want is for everyone to know that Dahlia is mine—and I’m hers.

  I want to scream it from the rooftops. I want a royal decree sent out to every house in Farcliff, declaring my love for her to the whole Kingdom.

  Dahlia lets out a long sigh. “Thank you f
or being patient with me.”

  “It was easy.”

  “Still,” she says. “I appreciate it.”

  “I’d better go. My shift is starting soon and I have to take a quick shower. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Yeah. Hey, Damon?”

  “Uh huh?”

  “I… I’m proud of you.”

  My heart skips a beat and I swallow past a lump in my throat. For a second, I thought she was going to tell me she loved me.

  The fact that she’s ready to tell our families about us is almost as good.

  “I’m proud of you, too. Have fun staring into your microscope tonight.”

  She laughs. “Trust me, I will.”

  “See you tomorrow.” I hang up the phone and take a deep breath. My lips tug up into a smile and I lean back in my chair, savoring these last moments of calm before my shift.

  This period of my life—with medical residency, the controversy with my father, and my relationship with Dahlia—has been the most chaotic time I’ve ever experienced, but it’s also been the most rewarding. I can’t help but feel like I’m heading in the right direction, and that once we make it through this, everything might just work out.

  29

  Dahlia

  I hang up the phone with Damon and bask in the happiness of the moment. Things are going to work out—I know they will.

  Before Damon and I tell our friends and family we’re together, I’m going to tell him about the baby. I make a vow to myself that the next time I see him, I’ll sit him down and say it to him.

  It’s the right thing to do—it’s been too long already. He deserves to know.

  Whatever happens after that, happens. I need to trust that he cares about me, and that he’ll care about this baby. I can already feel my love for the child growing, and carrying it on my own is becoming difficult. With my parents here, and being named godmother, it seems like as good a time as ever.

  I spend a couple of hours in the lab. By the time I make it back to the castle, the sun is starting to set. Texting Elle to see where she is, I find her in a sunroom at the back of the castle.

  She lifts her head when I walk up to her. Baby Charlie is in his stroller, asleep.

  “Hi,” she smiles. She looks exhausted, but happy.

  “Hey,” I say, sitting down on the bench next to her. I glance around the sunroom, and at the winter scene in front of us, and I sigh. “It’s nice back here.”

  “I’m still finding so many new corners in the castle that I didn’t know existed,” she smiles. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see it all.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “It’s been nice having you here,” Elle says, glancing at me. “It makes the castle feel like home.”

  “I never thought I’d say it, but I agree,” I laugh. “I actually feel good being here.”

  “Your parents seem to have adjusted.”

  “They’re happy. Thank you for welcoming them back.”

  Elle shakes her head. “It was a no-brainer.”

  “Any news on the investigation into the Queen’s death?”

  “Charlie doesn’t tell me much,” Elle sighs. “With the baby being born, I haven’t really asked. I know it’s hard on him.”

  I nod.

  “We know that the Queen was murdered, and we know that the former King was involved,” Elle says. “Beyond that, not much.”

  “What about Malerie Farcliff?”

  Elle sighs, shaking her head. “No proof of involvement. She was out of the Kingdom at the time.”

  “She makes me uncomfortable.”

  “She’s strange,” Elle agrees.

  I open my mouth to say something, but I’m interrupted by the sunroom door opening. Malerie Farcliff steps through as if summoned by the sound of her own name.

  She glances at us and gives Elle the slightest of curtsies. Elle inclines her head. Their greeting is as frosty as the January weather outside.

  “Cold day to be in the gardens,” Elle remarks.

  “I was checking on the honeybees after last week’s cold snap,” Malerie says, shaking the snow off her shoulders.

  I frown. “I thought bees hibernated.”

  “Not honeybees,” Lady Malerie says, pinching her lips. “That’s why they make honey—to survive the winter.”

  “Huh.” I nod. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I brought those bees back from Yemen over a decade ago,” Lady Malerie says, leaning over the stroller to stroke baby Charlie’s cheek. Elle stiffens beside me. “That’s why Farcliff honey is renowned now.”

  “Oh, Prince Damon told me that,” I say, remembering my first evening at the castle.

  Malerie takes a hand and pushes her sleek, waist-length hair over her shoulder and narrows her eyes at me. “You’ve been spending lots of time with my nephew.”

  An uneasy silence falls between us. I clear my throat. “Beekeeping is something I’d love to get into, but I can’t.”

  “No?” Lady Malerie says, arching an eyebrow. She shrugs her jacket off and a single bee buzzes out from the sleeve. So she was telling the truth—they don’t hibernate.

  I freeze, watching it.

  “No, I’m allergic.” My pulse quickens the tiniest bit. I have my EpiPen in my bag, don’t I?

  “How unfortunate,” she says, holding out her hand. “Honeybees are some of the loveliest creatures on the planet.”

  The insect lands on her finger and starts crawling over the back of her hand. She twists her hand over and cups the bee in her palm. Lady Malerie watches it, and then lifts her eyes to me.

  “I believe congratulations are in order.” Her eyes flick to my stomach, and my blood turns to ice. “You’re going to be little Charlie’s godmother.”

  Relief floods through me. I thought she knew about the baby. Having Malerie Farcliff spill the beans to Elle was not how I’d envisioned telling everyone.

  I nod, keeping my eyes on the insect she’s holding in her hand. My pulse is hammering, and my mouth has gone dry. Did she not hear me when I said I was allergic?

  I don’t mean slightly allergic—I’m not talking a few hives and a swollen throat. I mean I’m anaphylactic. That bee could kill me…

  …and my baby.

  My hand flies to my stomach, and Malerie’s eyes widen. Her gaze flicks up to my face, and anger blazes in her eyes.

  She knows.

  “Lady Malerie, if you wouldn’t mind taking that bee outside,” Elle says, pulling the baby to her breast. “Dahlia is allergic and I’d rather not have it so close to the baby.”

  “I’d better get going, anyway,” I say, stammering. I stand up and nod to the two women before turning toward the door.

  I’ve only taken one step when I hear Malerie say a soft ‘oh’.

  A moment later there’s a sharp prick on my finger. Bringing my hand up, I see a bead of blood on the tip of my finger. I frown, staring at it.

  What could possibly…?

  Then, the dizziness hits. My throat feels itchy and breathing becomes difficult. Still, I don’t understand. I turn slowly toward the two women, still staring at my finger.

  Movement on the ground catches my eye.

  The bee, writhing around on the floor.

  Confusion turns to horror as I stare at my finger again. I try to say something, but no sound comes out. My hand flies to my throat as I try to take a breath. I wheeze, clawing at my neck.

  Elle says something panicked. I can’t make out the words. I try to breathe in again, but nothing can make it through. Falling to my knees, I scratch my throat as if that will help me inhale. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. I’m drowning even though there’s no water.

  I don’t have my EpiPen—why would I? It’s winter. I collapse onto my side as the dizziness becomes too much. The room is spinning and I can’t think.

  Elle screams. I hear the thumping of boots.

  My vision goes black, and I’m gone.

  30

  Damon

>   I stumble home after more than fifty hours at the hospital and collapse straight into bed. I haven’t heard from Dahlia all day, but I’m too tired to message her. I’m too tired to talk to anyone.

  At least I’m on the day shift now.

  One good thing about residency is that the exhaustion lends itself to amazing sleep. I don’t have time to think, or worry, or do anything except shovel some food into my mouth and pass out.

  When I wake up again, after only a few short hours, I drag myself out of bed and take a quick shower. I need to be back at the hospital for another shift in less than an hour.

  Everything is always rushed, and I don’t have time to think about much. It’s been almost a full day since I heard from Dahlia, so I send her a message to make sure she’s okay. When I walk out of my bedroom and make my way to the garage, the castle is eerily quiet.

  Worry tickles the base of my skull. Something doesn’t feel right—but, then again, I haven’t slept more than four hours a night for over two weeks, so how would I know what feels right and what doesn’t? Everything feels like a dream these days.

  I hear some heated voices in one of the living rooms, but I don’t have time to stop. I make it to my car and drive back to the hospital.

  My shift starts as normal. After a handover from the night shift, I start making my rounds. It’s quieter than it has been all week, and for once the emergency department isn’t overrun. After a few hours, Dr. Adler calls out to me.

  “Farcliff!”

  I turn to see my attending physician striding down the hall. She waves me toward her. When I reach her, Dr. Adler’s eyes are bright. She nods down the hall.

  “Farcliff Royal had a really interesting case come in last night. It’s an incredible learning opportunity, and I think it’s worth going over there. We’ve got enough cover here before the afternoon rounds. Come on.”

  My attending motions toward the door, and I fall into step with her.