The Prince's Baby

by McKenna James

  I shakily raised the device to my ear. Something inside me snapped, like a dam suddenly collapsing in the wake of a terrible storm. “You son of a bitch!” I screamed. “How could you do this to me? You’re a heartless bastard, you know that?”

  Sebastian tried to get a word in. “Ali–”

  “Why are you taking my son away from me?”

  “Because you were about to take him away from me!” he growled. “I needed to protect Adam. If you take him away, I’ll never see him again. At least with this agreement, you’ll see him during the summers. It’s the only way to make this fair.”

  “Fair?” I shrieked. “How is any of this fair?”

  “Ali–”

  “I hate you,” I screamed. “I fucking hate you.”

  “Why do you have to make everything so fucking hard, Alison?”

  “I wish I’d never met you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual. Sign the damn agreement and go home.”

  Sebastian hung up the phone. The silence on the other end of the line rang loudly in my ear. Hot tears streaked down my face as a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep fighting to protect Adam with the resources that Sebastian had. His words stabbed into me like a sharp knife, cutting through flesh, organs, and bone. I really didn’t have any fight left. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. Now that everything was out on the table, there was only one more thing I had left to do.

  “Alison,” Patrick whispered gently, “if you take Adam back with you, how are you going to give him the life he deserves?”

  “I-I’ll work,” I mumbled pathetically. “I’ll go back to work.”

  “As a diplomat? That’s a full-time job, Alison. That’s eighty hours a week, sometimes more. Sometimes you’ll be away to different countries. How are you going to have time to raise Adam by yourself?”

  “I’ll hire help.”

  “You barely let the nanny here do any of the work; I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “I’ll figure something out!” I snapped, exasperated. “I’ll figure something out,” I repeated, less confident.

  “Alison,” he repeated, much softer this time. He held the pen up in front of my face. “You’re a good mother. The right choice doesn’t always feel right, but I think you know what to do.”

  I wanted to scream my lungs out. I wanted to throw the nearest decorative vase straight out the window. I wanted to do something, anything to expend all of this rage that was building inside my chest. Instead, I hissed with all the venom I could muster, “How Klaus fell for a monster like you, I’ll never know.”

  Patrick cast his eyes to the floor. For a second, I felt genuinely sorry for uttering such harsh words. But I was also too furious to think straight.

  He swallowed hard before quietly whispering, “He’d do the same for you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Sebastian

  I wanted to puke. If I hadn’t been with polite company, the chances that I would have hurled into one of the many potted plants in the conference room were incredibly high. Sitting on the other side of the table was Ambassador Clavets and Elena. Sitting next to me was my father, King Regis. The atmosphere in the small conference room was tense and thick. As I returned to my seat, I felt like I could have swam through the air because it was so humid and gross. City air was too heavy, too damp. At least up in the mountains I could actually breathe, though I contributed my inability to regulate my breathing to the awful phone conversation I’d just had with Alison.

  I didn’t know what I was expecting when I told Patrick to go through with talking to my team of lawyers. My only goal was keeping my son in the country so he could stay by my side. Anyone could have predicted Alison was going to be upset, but I didn’t think she’d tell me she hated me. The words that came out in retaliation left an awful taste in my mouth, bitter and heavy and sour. Her voice was still rattling around in my head. When she told me she regretted ever meeting me, something inside me broke. The careful, delicate calm we’d built up for ourselves came crashing down over my skull and threatened to crush me into the earth. There was nothing but pain in her voice. To hear her utter those words, to hear her scream that she hated me left me feeling terribly empty inside.

  King Regis looked at me sternly. He was a proud man, bordering on stubborn. He held himself in a way that made it look like someone stuck a meter stick down the collar of his shirt. His chest was puffed out, his shoulders were squared, and he had this way of looking down his nose at everyone—even people who were taller than him—in a way that showed he was superior in every way. I didn’t think he did it to be malicious or over-confident. He was the King, raised from an early age to lead. Growing up with the understanding that he was the most important person in the entire Kingdom had to have some sort of effect on his ego.

  He raised a bushy eyebrow at me. “Who was that?”

  “No one,” I said automatically.

  My father frowned. “You’re my son. I know when you’re lying.”

  Elena wrung her fingers together anxiously. “Is everything okay, Prince Sebastian?”

  I nodded, though I didn’t think anybody at the table believed me.

  My father clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “Sebastian, speak. If we are to proceed with these marriage arrangements, I think it best that you start off on the right foot without any secrets.”

  I held my breath, heart pounding in my chest. I had a terrible headache, and there was an awful pressure behind my eyes that made me worry they’d pop right out of their sockets. “I…” I mumbled, suddenly losing all nerve. “I have a son.”

  Ambassador Clavets gasped dramatically, vein throbbing at his temple. “What?”

  King Regis turned in his chair slightly to glare at me. “Come again?”

  “I have a son, Father.”

  I much preferred it when my father yelled at me. At least then I knew what he was thinking. King Regis fell deathly silent, and I could have sworn he was seconds away from throttling me. Since he was the King, I was pretty sure he could get away with my murder if he wanted to, though, I really didn’t think he’d commit filicide over something like this. Despite this, I felt the need to ramble, to fill the air with noise for some semblance of comfort.

  “He’s one-year-old. He’s really smart. Loves animals. Isn’t a fan of anything that tastes like lemon. I think he’s going to be a great Prince one day, and–”

  “The mother,” my father stated. “Who’s the mother?”

  I clenched my jaw so tight I heard my molars squeak. “Her name is Alison Smith.”

  “Diplomat Alison Smith?” gawked Elena.

  Ambassador Clavets clenched his fists and turned red in the face. “This is a disgrace,” he bit out. “Are you still in a relationship with this woman? I thought she returned home after–” He cut himself off. “After the conference.”

  “Where is the boy now?” asked my father, tone still flat.

  “At my summer home.”

  My father stroked his puffy white beard and closed his eyes. “Why did you not inform me earlier?”

  “I was… I was scared, Father. Of what you’d do.”

  “Of what I’d do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Boy, the only reason I even considered this marriage arrangement was because I was worried you’d never have an heir of your own.” King Regis opened his eyes and gave me a small smile. “You’re telling me I could have been spoiling my very first grandson this entire time?”

  I took a sharp breath in through the nose, so relieved that my whole skull felt tingly. “I mean, yes?”

  King Regis clapped his hands together and let out one of the most joyous laughs I’d ever heard. The room practically shook as his voice rattled off the walls. “I’m a grampie!” he exclaimed happily. “Thank goodness. I was so worried you’d never find a wife.”

  “Alison and I aren’t together,” I clarified.

&
nbsp; My father’s cheery expression dropped as quickly as it appeared. “What?”

  Ambassador Clavets stood rapidly from his chair and slapped his hands down on the table. “We must go through with this arranged marriage,” he shouted. “My Elena would make a perfect queen and stepmother to your son.”

  “Father,” Elena whimpered, “please–”

  “We have been in talks for months. Elena’s great with kids. Wouldn’t having a child out of wedlock damage your image, Your Majesty? If Prince Sebastian and Elena were to wed, at least then they could uphold traditional Wyvernian values. No one would ever have to know Prince Adam was born to some Sunyata lowborn.”

  A tick of fury clawed at my throat. “I never said what my son’s name was,” I said. “How do you know his name?”

  The color drained from Ambassador Clavets’ face. He immediately began to sweat, beads of perspiration forming upon his brow and upper cheeks.

  I rose from my seat, livid. “How do you know my son’s name is Adam?”

  Clavets looked at Elena, as though for help, but she looked as stunned as I felt.

  King Regis crossed his arms over his chest. “Answer,” he ordered.

  “I… That is–” Clavets started sweating through his clothes, the fabric beneath his pits staining with dampness.

  “Father?” whispered Elena. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  “Fine,” he hissed. “I hired someone to follow you. Sam told me all about your little Adam.”

  “Sam was working for you?”

  “Of course, he was. Do you honestly think newspapers have the kind of budget to send reporters off to remote places?”

  “Why would you do this, Father?” gasped Elena.

  “Calm down, woman,” he growled back. “This was all for you. We come from a small family in Dulan. Everything we have is because of me. You’re never going to amount to anything if you run off with that boy Tomas.”

  “Father,” she whimpered, “this is too cruel.”

  “I had everything perfectly planned. After I scared that bitch Smith away, you were supposed to swoop in and seduce Sebastian off his feet. But no, I had to do all the heavy lifting. I always have to do the heavy lifting so you can get what you want.”

  “This isn’t what I want. I want to marry Tomas.”

  I glared at the ambassador. “What do you mean you scared Alison off?”

  “I did it, okay? I approached her at her hotel and told her I had dirt on her.”

  I had to fight to keep my voice level. “What kind of dirt?”

  “She was busted a long time ago for possession. It was just a little bit of weed. The whole case wound up being thrown out. But I told her that I’d leak the information. Said it’d look bad on you if word got out.”

  “She was protecting me?” I uttered under my breath. “That’s why she left? Because of you?”

  Ambassador Clavets threw his hands in the air and scoffed. “It was all so perfect. My daughter could have become queen.”

  King Regis rose slowly, commanding everyone’s attention. “This will not go unpunished, Ambassador. You are free to go, Miss Elena. Return to your Tomas.”

  Elena sniffled. “Please, Your Majesty, have mercy on my father.”

  My father huffed. “We shall see.”

  I couldn’t believe what was happening. This whole time I thought Alison had left because she didn’t really love me. Now it was obvious she left because she cared too much. My head was reeling both from revelation and worry. I felt like I was stuck in a dream, moving about far too slowly and thinking too quietly for anything to be real. I’d caused her so much hurt. I’d threatened to separate Alison and our son out of fear of scandal. I genuinely didn’t believe my father would take the news as well as he did, and yet, here we were.

  “I need to go after her,” I realized aloud.

  “Who?” asked my father.

  “Alison. I need to apologize. I need to tell her I was wrong.”

  King Regis nodded. “Have my personal chauffeur take you. The car will have the royal sigil on it, so the roads will be cleared.”

  I looked at Elena and smiled. She nodded, a silent understanding passing between us. We were both finally going to be able to be with the people we truly wanted. I immediately reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, dialing Patrick’s number in a hurry.

  “Where is she?” I barked the second he answered.

  “She’s boarding a plane back to Sunyata as we speak. I placed her on a private jet to avoid a public outburst. I have Adam in the care of the nanny.”

  “Stop that flight,” I demanded. “I need to speak with her.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Do I sound like I’m joking? Stop that plane.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Alison

  I cried my eyes out the second the flight attendant closed the door to the plane. It was a sickeningly luxurious jet, full of custom-made furniture and golden wallpaper. There was a large TV mounted to the wall just behind the cockpit, a miniature bar built into the wall of the cabin, and several wide armchairs made of high-quality brown leather bolted to the floor. I took a seat in the far back corner, pulling my knees up to my chest as I wiped my eyes on the back of my sleeves.

  A mix of emotions was bottled up inside me. I felt pure, unadulterated anger. Not just at Sebastian for forcing my hand, but also at myself. I hated myself for signing. What if Adam grew up and learned I effectively gave him away? What if he learned to hate me for my decision? I was also incredibly sad. I felt empty without Adam by my side. I was able to tolerate the loneliness of not being able to see Sebastian when my son was with me. But now I was by myself, returning home to an empty apartment without either of them. Most of all, I felt exhaustion. I didn’t want to deal with anything or anyone anymore. I’d just lost my son, lost the man who I thought I was falling for all over again. Nothing mattered.

  I’d cried so hard on the drive over to the airport that I was officially numb. Breathing hurt. My eyes were swollen, dry, and scratchy. The tips of my fingers tingled from the adrenaline that was still rushing through my veins. My chest was hollow, my throat hoarse from screaming. When Patrick ordered the nanny to take Adam away, I wanted to tear her hair out at the roots for daring to touch my baby. My hands ached to hold my child, the ghost sensation of his soft hair beneath my fingers making my heart lurch. I was already dreading arriving home to my apartment to find all of Adam’s things—his crib, his toys, his unpacked baby clothes—only to know I wouldn’t get to use them.

  “Miss Smith?” said one of the two flight attendants cautiously. She’d been watching me the whole time, wary. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a twist, navy blue uniform cap atop her head. She was in a matching navy-blue dress and blazer, the Wyvernbank Royal Family’s crest sewn into the front pocket. “Can I offer you a drink?” she inquired. “Something to snack on, maybe? Can I get you some tissues?”

  “Yes,” I grumbled.

  “Yes?”

  “To all those things. Yes.”

  She wore a thin smile. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Do you have any alcohol?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I can mix you up a cocktail, if you’d like.”

  “Just grab me a bottle of vodka.”

  The woman glanced nervously to her co-worker, an equally striking young flight attendant with red hair. “The whole bottle?”

  I glared up at her. “Did I stutter?”

  “Um, coming right up. Would you like ice with that or–”

  “Surprise me. You know what? Forget it. I’ll get it myself.”

  I stood and brushed past her, making for the minibar. There was a tiny fridge strapped in place, which I promptly opened to find a fully-stocked inventory of spirits in adorably tiny bottles. Except, I wasn’t here to enjoy any of it. I was here because Sebastian was shipping me home without my baby to an empty apartment where I’d no doubt spend the next nights awake, tossing and turning, wonderi
ng if Adam missed me. I grabbed as many tiny bottles as I could in my two hands, kicked the fridge door shut, trudged back to my seat, and plopped down with a huff. I’d already managed to down two tiny bottles of spiced rum by the time I finally got comfortable in my seat.

  “Please buckle your seatbelt, Miss Smith,” said the redhaired attendant. “We’ll be departing soon.”

  “Finally,” I spat, though I didn’t mean it. Not really. I didn’t want to go because my son was still here, but I also thought the plane couldn’t leave soon enough. I just wanted out of Wyvernbank. I wanted to get as far away from Sebastian and his stupid obligations and that damned royal family of his. I wanted to get away from the politics, from all the noise and confusion that seemed to follow me wherever I went. All I wanted was a little bit of peace. Was that so much to ask?

  A voice crackled over the pilot’s radio, “Delta Four, you are not clear for takeoff.”

  Apparently, it was.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  The pilot stood from the controls and ducked beneath the entryway to the cockpit. He smiled apologetically to me. “I’m sorry. It appears this flight has been grounded.”

  I frowned. “What? Why?”

  The pilot turned to the attendants and said, “Open the doors. We have a special guest boarding the plane.”

  I threw my head back and groaned, “This is the worst day ever.”

  They lowered the door and attached steps. All three of the plane’s crew bowed their head as the mystery guest boarded, heavy footsteps shaking the frame of the plane. I didn’t bother looking up, too furious and already a bit tipsy to muster up the ability to care.

  “You may leave,” came a familiar voice.

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness,” the crew members chanted together before promptly letting themselves out.

  Sebastian sat in the seat across from me, hands folded together neatly and placed on his lap. I refused to look at him. I trained my eyes out the little oval-shaped window and glared at the horizon, even though it hurt to do because of how bright the sun was. Sebastian looked as tired as I felt. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, neither of us quite sure what to say or do.