Surprise Packages

by Layla Valentine

  “I already have more status and power and money than I need,” I say.

  “This is what I meant when I told you that celebrities were American royalty,” Alex says.

  I nod. “I suppose you had a point there.”

  “We’re going to need to go back to Avaran,” he says. “My father’s insisting upon it. And honestly, I think he’s right. He says we’d do best to have the babies born there.”

  “That’s not a problem,” I say. “We already talked about it, remember? We wanted them to have Avaranian citizenship.”

  He nods, seeming relieved that I’m taking it so well.

  “It’s also custom that members of the royal family are born in the palace, so it’s a good way to honor our children and legitimize their place in the line of succession,” he says. “Even though Parliament has agreed, there are plenty of people in Avaran who will dispute my claim to the throne and the legitimacy of our children. By adhering to custom, we’ll take our first steps toward sweeping away those doubts.”

  “That makes sense,” I say. “I do want to honor royal tradition in some way, at least. I want the babies to begin their lives the right way. You were right before when you pointed out that we’d gone about this whole thing out of order.”

  “I don’t have any regrets,” Alex says quickly.

  “No, I don’t either,” I reassure him. “But moving forward, we need to be careful to do everything right. We need to follow the rules and stick to traditions. Because it’s not just us who will be paying for our mistakes now.” I rest a hand on my stomach and look at him significantly. “We can’t afford to alienate the Avaranian people.”

  “It’s a lot to ask,” Alex says. “I know it’s a lot to ask. You’ll be leaving behind your family, your country, everything that’s familiar to you.”

  “It’s not as if I’ve never done that before,” I point out. “I did that when I left Ohio to come to Hollywood. I traded familiarity and comfort for the promise of something I wanted even more. That’s what I’m doing this time, too. I can handle it.”

  “And there’s your career to think of,” Alex persists. “You’ll be away until the children are born, at least. Your acting career is just getting started. Your star is rising. To be away for so long…”

  “It doesn’t matter where I am,” I say firmly. “I’m not going to be able to act until after the babies are born anyway. Royal Blue will either have to extend the hiatus or write my character off the show.”

  “And that’s okay?” he asks. “You won’t be violating any contracts, or, I don’t know, making anyone angry? I worry about you, Erica. I know this isn’t just complicated for me. I’m not the only one who has a life that this has to fit into, and I realize that.”

  “It’s all right,” I say. “I haven’t signed my contract for next season yet. I suppose they might get angry when they find out I’ll have to take a few months off from filming, but there’s very little they can reasonably ask me to do about it, and I haven’t broken any contracts.” I take his hand. “There’s nothing keeping me here, Alex. There’s only my parents, and they’ll be able to visit, won’t they?”

  “Of course,” he says.

  “Then I have no reason to stay,” I tell him. “Let’s go to Avaran. Let’s take our children home.”

  “You know you’ll be seized on immediately, don’t you?” Alex asks. “Everyone is going to want to know everything about you. You’re the American girl who captured the heart of the prince.” He chuckles a little at his own spin job. “People are going to be clamoring to get your story, to get photos of you, to get you to sit down for interviews or give them sound bites.”

  “That happens already,” I point out. “That doctor we went to today was specifically chosen because he deals with celebrities and doesn’t sell our stories to the press.”

  “It’ll be worse in Avaran,” Alex warns. “Here you’re famous, but you’re one of hundreds of famous people, and many of them are a lot more famous than you are. In Avaran, you’re all anybody’s talking about right now. The royal family is big, but it isn’t that big, and none of the rest of them have anything exciting going on. You and I are the only news, and you’re the only one they don’t know. They’re going to be on you as soon as we land.”

  “I don’t care,” I say. I know I sound stubborn, but I don’t care about that either. “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that we’re all together.”

  Alex nods and pulls me close for a kiss. “Then I’ll make the arrangements.”

  Chapter 20

  Six Months Later

  “I brought you more books,” Alex calls from the door to my bedroom.

  I’m reclining on a chaise on my balcony overlooking the capital city of Avaran and feeling every bit a princess. This is nothing like playing Princess Aeryn was. Aeryn was always dirty and grimy, always running around the unseemly parts of the kingdom, getting involved in swordplay and even fist fights. She was a compelling character, to be sure, but she did not remind me of a princess.

  But here in Avaran, it’s a completely different story. Since I arrived here six months ago, I’ve been treated like royalty. I have my own suite of rooms in the palace, adjoining Alex’s, and my own staff of maids and butlers to help me with anything I need.

  I’m uncomfortable calling on them for anything, despite the fact that they’ve reassured me hundreds of times that that’s what they’re there for, that it’s part of their job and that they want to help make my life easier. One butler, after I told him I couldn’t possibly ask him to bring me the milkshake I was craving at two in the morning, even took me aside and showed me one of his pay stubs, and after that I did feel better about it.

  Alex appears on the balcony and dumps the pile of books beside me. “I was at the library for over an hour,” he says. “I’ve never spent such a long time among the books before. But you read them so quickly.”

  “I have to,” I say, looking through the stack. “My children are going to be Avaranian royalty. It’ll be my job to teach them the history of their country and their people.”

  “They’ll have tutors for that,” Alex points out. “And me.”

  “Even so, it wouldn’t be right if their own mother didn’t know anything about the country they’re going to rule one day, would it? Besides, there will be plenty of people who have problems with me raising them,” I point out. “If I can demonstrate from the start that I understand their importance to the country and that I want to help prepare them for their future roles, so much the better.”

  Alex takes a seat at the foot of my chaise.

  “What have you been studying this morning?”

  “Language,” I say, showing him the app on my phone that’s been pronouncing Avaranian words into my ear all day. “It sounds a lot like Italian.”

  “You know Italian?”

  “I know Spanish. Spanish also sounds like Italian.”

  He smiles and reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

  “You’re so dedicated,” he says. “I can’t believe how hard you’ve been working since you arrived here. How quickly you’ve been learning. Our children are so lucky to have you for a mother.”

  I pull the new books into my arms. “What did you bring me today?”

  He picks up the book that’s on top of the stack. “This is a history of our establishment as an independent nation,” he says. “Avaran takes pride in the fact that we’ve never been involved in a war. Even for our independence, we never went to battle.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Read the book,” he says with a grin. He places it on the table and takes another from me. “This is a biography of Avaran’s best-loved prime minister. It will give you some history of the politics of our country, and it’ll also provide some insight into how the royal family interacts with Parliament.”

  I nod. “That’s something the kids will need to know about.”

  “Yes, exactly,” he says with a smile.
“It important that they keep the body of elected officials happy at all times, because nothing can be accomplished unless Parliament and whoever is on the throne are in agreement. When there’s a standoff, it can lead to hard times for the country and the people. A good ruler has to learn when to compromise and when to hold fast to his ideals.” He taps the cover of the book. “This prime minister dealt with a king who was particularly good at that, and it was one of the most prosperous periods in Avaranian history.”

  I nod and think about the fact that someday the little babies I’m carrying will be in history books. Someday they’ll be remembered as rulers. I have to make sure history looks at them as good and wise ones.

  Alex rises, leaving me the books, and walks back into the sitting room that sits behind my balcony.

  “Did the doctor come today?” he calls out to me.

  “Yes.”

  I get to my feet and follow him, feeling ungainly as I waddle in his wake. I know it’s important for the health of my little ones that I keep moving around, and I want to keep moving around, but it’s much easier to lie on the chaise with my hands resting on my enormous belly and look out at the city than it is to try to walk.

  It’s not just the weight of my twins, although that is considerable, and it makes things hard. But it’s also the weight distribution of my body, so different now from what I’m used to. I walk with my hands on my lower back, bracing myself, slowly as a brachiosaurus.

  By the time I reach the kitchen, Alex has been there long enough that he’s begun chopping up fruit for my daily smoothie. I lean on the counter and watch his deft hands at work.

  “What did the doctor say?” he asks. “Is he worried about your food aversions?”

  I laugh gently. “No. I told you that wasn’t an issue, didn’t I?”

  Not only did I tell him, but I also showed him the chapter in my pregnancy book that explained why I craved some foods and couldn’t stand the sight of others. But Alex has proven to be a very anxious father-to-be.

  It’s sweet, really. It’s so plain how much he cares for me and the babies. He’s going to be a wonderful father. I believe that with all my heart.

  Alex finishes making the smoothie and pushes it across to me. He used to include banana in the mixture, but banana is one of the foods I can’t stand now, so it’s a variety of berries. I haul myself onto a stool at the counter and begin to drink.

  “The doctor says I’m coming along nicely,” I tell him. “He says everything’s looking good for the C-section in two weeks.”

  Alex nods. “That’s great.”

  He opens the refrigerator and surveys the contents. I know he’d like to have a beer, but he rid the house of all alcohol the day I moved in, declaring that as long as I couldn’t have a drink, he wasn’t going to have one either. It was needlessly noble, in my opinion, but at the same time, I can’t deny that I’m a bit touched by it. Alex settles on a fruit-flavored soft drink and returns to the counter.

  “Are you ready, do you think?”

  “I think so,” I say. “The nursery is almost all set up. They still need to paint the pattern on the focal wall, but I guess that’s not very important, is it?”

  “It is if you want it,” Alex says. “I’ll make sure the painters come tomorrow.”

  “Will the C-section be here in the apartment?” I ask.

  It’s been really nice having a team of doctors come here for my checkups, not having to go sit at a clinic or worry about being seen by the public or having medical details leaked. But a C-section, an actual surgical procedure, is different. I’m nervous at the prospect of not being in a hospital for that.

  Alex seems to understand. “The team is the best in the kingdom, if not all of Europe,” he says. “And they’ll have all the equipment they need to do the job. Don’t worry. I would never make a sacrifice when it came to your health and safety, or that of our babies.”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” I say. “I just get nervous.”

  “I understand.”

  He walks around the counter and takes me in his arms. It’s harder for Alex to hold me now than it once was, and the position we’ve both come to favor is him standing behind me, arms wrapped around so he can rest his hands over the babies. He holds me that way now and kisses my shoulder.

  “It’ll be all right,” he says. “If a hospital was safer, we’d be doing that. I promise you.”

  I nod. “I believe you.”

  I finish my smoothie and push the glass over to him. So far, he hasn’t mentioned tonight’s big event, and in a childish way, I’m half hoping he’s forgotten it and that I won’t have to go. But when he speaks again, my hopes are dashed.

  “Have you chosen an outfit for tonight yet?”

  I close my eyes and indulge in a brief moment of disappointment.

  “Not yet. I was hoping you would help me.”

  He nods. “It’s really your first royal appearance, isn’t it? Not counting the time you were presented to my parents, of course.”

  “I’m not sure you can say ‘not counting’ the time I was presented to the king and queen of Avaran,” I object. “That was actually a pretty major event for me. That definitely counts as my first royal appearance.”

  I think back to that meeting, less than twenty-four hours after my arrival in Avaran. I’d been sent a hair and makeup entourage that would put my Royal Blue team to shame and a royal outfitter to sew me into a perfect pale gold gown. I was presented to King Donato and Queen Filippa by Alex himself, who escorted me on his arm into the throne room and bowed—bowed to his own parents—before declaring my name.

  By rights, tonight shouldn’t be as intimidating as that was. And yet there’s another factor here, one that complicates things dramatically. Because I knew Alex’s parents were happy about the twins, ready to welcome them into the royal family. I knew they would be pleased to meet me. Tonight, I don’t have that feeling at all.

  Tonight, I’ll be meeting Duke Enzo Gosar for the first time.

  And I would not be at all surprised if the duke and his family had no good feeling toward me or my babies. Not after the way their country treated them when they were in the same position Alex and I are in now.

  How could they not feel resentful? They’re welcoming us into their home because it’s politically necessary, but that doesn’t mean they want us there. How could they?

  Earlier this morning, one of my maids delivered a rack of dresses, all tailored to my exact current measurements. I was supposed to be choosing something to wear. But I’ve been avoiding it because I can’t stand to think of what might happen tonight when we face Alex’s uncle and his family.

  Will they curse me for the fact that my children will be royal when their family was forced to give up the throne? Will they let us into their home but be cold and hostile the whole time? How much I’d rather stay here in my comfortable suite, relaxing on my feather bed with Alex beside me or going out onto the balcony to look at the city as it comes to life for the night.

  Alex disappears into the bedroom and returns with a wine-colored dress draped over one arm.

  “This one,” he says. “You’ll look beautiful in this. Try it on.”

  Resigned, I step out of my sweatpants, pull my tank top over my head, and allow Alex to help me into the dress.

  I must admit, it does fit perfectly. The tailors have done their job well. It hugs my baby bump without being tight, showing off my pregnancy tastefully. I examine my reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that.

  “It does look nice, doesn’t it?”

  “You do,” Alex corrects, taking me in his arms again. “You’ll amaze everyone tonight. I don’t know what you’re worried about.”

  “Of course you know what I’m worried about.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “Uncle Enzo has always been kind to me. He’s never shown any resentment for the fact that his family lost the crown to mine.”

  “Okay,” I say, “but there was no double standard befo
re. Things are different now. You’ve done exactly the same thing he did, and you’re not being punished. He’d be only human to be upset about that, Alex, no matter how kind a man he is.”

  “Even if he is upset about the inequality of it,” Alex argues stubbornly, “he can hardly blame us. We weren’t even born when he lost the throne. We had nothing to do with that. And I’m sure he doesn’t expect us to walk away from our responsibilities out of some sense of fairness. What happened to Enzo was an injustice, but it wouldn’t make it right if I sought out the same fate for myself. It would just mean that a wrong had been done twice.”

  I shake my head. “I sure hope he sees it the same way you do.”

  Chapter 21

  Alex’s uncle and aunt have a huge estate that covers several acres of land. It’s located deep in the countryside, so far from the city that you can’t even see the twinkle of the lights anymore, and it’s about as different from the palace as anything could be. The palace is all smooth stone and pillars, the outside a gleaming marble white, but the duke’s estate is rough-hewn and gray, a look that nods to its ancient heritage.

  Alex helps me out of the car and up the steps to the front door, and we’re shown in by a butler. The man smiles as he takes our jackets, which is an encouraging sign, and then he shows us down the hall to a great dining room featuring a long wooden table set for six. The king and queen are already there, and they rise to greet us, as do another man and woman who must be Enzo and his wife.

  They take me in for a long, loaded moment, and a part of me longs to run back out to the car as fast as my heavily pregnant belly will allow. What are they thinking? Do they want me to go?

  Then Enzo extends a hand. “Welcome, Miss Steadman,” he says cordially. “We’ve heard quite a lot about you.”