The Queen's New Year Secret

by Maisey Yates

  For the first time it was easy for her to wish that she could just stay in the present. Here in the palace, married to Kairos, such as that marriage was. Pregnant with his baby. With her baby. But no matter how much she knew these things for certain, who knew what would happen tomorrow? Who knew where she would be? She didn’t have a clue.

  Tears started to fall from her eyes, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. Didn’t bother to keep control, or pretend it didn’t hurt.

  This was all because of love. And even now, she couldn’t regret it. She had been afraid of this. Of hurt, of heartbreak. And still, even having the worst fear confirmed, even knowing that opening herself up would only cause her pain, she regretted nothing.

  At least this was honest. At least this was real. At least she wasn’t hiding.

  She would rather be wounded in the light than slowly fade away in the darkness. No matter how much it hurt.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  KAIROS FOUND THAT he couldn’t sleep. He spent the rest of the early morning hours doing paperwork in his office, then went to the dining room for coffee and breakfast. He was shocked when he saw Tabitha sitting at the table, a mug of tea in front of her, along with a piece of toast. She was dressed impeccably, in her usual style. A pristine black dress, a single strand of pearls, her blond hair pulled back into a bun. The only indication that she had not slept well was the dark circles under her eyes.

  “Are you well?” he asked, moving to the head of the table to sit down.

  “I’m still pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Yes, that is what I was asking.” Except it wasn’t. He wanted to ask her how she had slept. He wanted to ask if he had wounded her terribly last night. But he could not.

  “All right, then, now that that’s out of the way. There is something else we need to discuss.”

  “I would like to have some coffee first.”

  “And I don’t want to wait. In this instance, I feel I should get my way. As I’m the one who is pregnant and in distress.”

  “I’m in a decent amount of distress, having not had any sleep or caffeine.”

  She shot him a pointed, deadly glare. “Why didn’t you stay with me last night?”

  “Because you needed rest.”

  “And you were going to keep me up all night, telling me ghost stories?”

  “No, not ghost stories. But I may not have respected the fact that you needed rest, and not my lecherous advances.”

  “I have a bit more respect for your control than that, Kairos. I hardly think you’re going to accost your recently hospitalized wife.”

  He gritted his teeth. “You don’t know that. Neither do I, frankly. The way that I treated you before the bleeding started was appalling.”

  “On that score we can agree.”

  He thought back to how roughly he handled her, how desperate he’d been. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to their baby. Because of him. It would all be because of him.

  “I am sorry,” he said, his voice rough. “Do forgive me for how rough I was. I lost myself in a way I did not believe possible.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was too rough with you.”

  “That isn’t what I thought you were talking about. I thought you meant after. When you left me. I was upset about that. I needed you to stay. I needed you to hold me. You had... Kairos, you had never done that to me before. It had never been like that. I needed to stay with you, to rest in that experience with you. Otherwise, it’s just sex. It isn’t intimacy at all.”

  Relief washed over him, but along with it came anger. Frustration. “I told you, intimacy is not something we can share. Not in the way you want it. You wanted honesty, and I am willing to offer. I’m just sorry it isn’t the grand revelation you were hoping for.”

  “I don’t understand why. I still don’t understand.”

  “I cannot make you understand,” he said, his temper fraying now. “There is nothing I can say beyond what I have already said.”

  “Tell me something. Tell me something real about you. Tell me... Tell me what happened when your mother left. Tell me what it is like to have your father raise you.”

  “I have told you about my father already. He was cold, he was distant. He was trying to make me strong. And I understand why. I cannot resent him for it, even if I cannot claim to have felt happiness in my childhood. It made me the man that I am, the man that I must be.”

  “Stop it. You’re not a robot. You’re a human being. Stop pretending that you don’t have any feelings. Stop pretending that a childhood being raised by a drill sergeant was fine just because it turned you into what you consider to be an ideal ruler. It’s false, Kairos. It all rings so incredibly false. And I can’t live a life that way anymore. I simply can’t. I spent too many years hiding. Too many years pursuing empty things, looking for happiness that I was never going to find hiding behind a wall. I was so deeply concealed I couldn’t even see the sun. Yes, I didn’t feel very many bad things, but I didn’t feel good things either. Right now? I have never been more terrified than I am right now. I have never prayed so hard for something to work out. I want this baby more than you can imagine. And the very idea of losing it fills me with so much pain... I can barely even think of it at all. But I wouldn’t trade it. Not for anything. I wouldn’t go back and protect myself by never becoming pregnant. Because it’s touched deeper parts of myself that I never even knew existed. It makes me hope. With a kind of intensity I didn’t know I could feel. And it’s the same...it’s the same with you.”

  The back of his neck prickled, cold dread living in his chest and radiating outward. “What do you mean?”

  “This can’t last,” she said, her tone filled with sadness, with regret.

  “What can’t?” he bit out.

  “This. Us. I can’t go back to the way things were. And if this scare with the baby has taught me anything, it’s that what we tried to build on the island still isn’t strong enough.”

  “No. That isn’t true,” he said, terror clawing at him now.

  “It is. Because I can’t fight against a brick wall. Not forever. And yes, for a while, I thought maybe it could be different. I thought maybe I could make it work for the sake of the baby. But if that’s the only reason we’re doing this, then we’re not building a strong enough foundation. We only make each other miserable. We’ll make our child miserable.”

  “Or, do you secretly believe you’re going to lose it? Are you hoping that you will?”

  He regretted his words when he saw her reaction to them. She drew back, as though he had slapped her. “Of course I don’t. I want more than anything for our child to be born healthy. But, Kairos, we might lose the baby. And then why are we together? If there isn’t an answer to that question, we shouldn’t be together no matter what happens.”

  “You don’t think that the heat between us is a reason to stay together?”

  “No. Because it isn’t enough. Because I can’t get so close to what I want and then have you pull away. It’s cruel. I can’t exist this way, not anymore.”

  “Why are you changing things?” he roared, standing up from his seat, rage propelling him forward. “We had a bargain from the beginning. Are you such a liar, such a manipulative bitch?” He hated himself. Hated the words that were coming out of his mouth, but he couldn’t stop them. He felt as though the floor was dropping out from beneath him. He had given her everything he was able to give her, and still it wasn’t enough. Still she was leaving him. How dare she? He was the king. She was carrying his child. She was his wife.

  “Because I changed. I’m sorry. I love you, Kairos. If you can’t love me back—I don’t mean just saying that you love me to make me stay—I mean showing me. I mean giving me parts of yourself. Giving me your soul, not
just your body, then I can’t stay. Because it hurts too badly.”

  He felt as though she had reached inside his chest and grabbed hold of his heart, squeezing it tight. She stood up, taking a step away from him, and he felt as if she was going to pull his heart straight from his chest now. That if she took another step away she would take it with her.

  Perhaps you should be grateful if she did.

  He couldn’t breathe.

  “Do not leave me,” he said.

  “What would you give me? And I don’t mean clothing, or money, or even pleasure. What will you give me of yourself? Kairos, I’ve witnessed terrible things. Things that no child should ever have to see. I spent my life hiding because it fractured my view of people. Because for a long time I believed that everyone was hiding something dark and frightening beneath the surface. I had to choose to trust you, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done. So when you tell me that you can’t give more to me, I believe you. And I’m not going to sign up for blind faith. For going on for another five years, living in hope that someday you might fall for me. That someday you might break down the wall you’ve put up around yourself.”

  “I am a king. I have to put a wall around myself.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t like these questions. Didn’t like that her words tested the logic of his argument. “Because I must,” he answered. He refused to dig deeper. Refused to uncover that dark well, the lid to the center of his chest, the one that housed the truth of all this. The outcome would be the same, so there was no point. No point at all.

  “And I must do this. I have to go, Kairos. I have to.”

  She turned away from him and he found himself staring down his worst fear. As the woman who rooted him to the earth, who kept his heart beating, began to walk away from him. He had lowered himself completely and begged for his mother to stay, and it had made no difference. And here he was again, facing down his fear. He had to wonder if that moment on the beach wasn’t a cautionary tale so much as it was a premonition.

  She kept walking away, and he said nothing.

  Tell her to stay.

  His entire body seized up, his throat closing. And still, he said nothing.

  He watched her walk out, her shoulders straight and still. Proud in that way Tabitha always was. And so silent, even when she was hurting. Five years he’d been married to her and most of the time she’d been in pain.

  Because of him.

  At least this way, she’s free of you.

  He was free of her too. He should be grateful. He did not need a wife. Everything would be fine with the child, there was no other option. The child would be fine. He would have his heir, and the country would be secured.

  That was all that mattered. There was no honor in being a divorced king, but his father had been. This country had been absent a queen for a very long time.

  And so it would be again.

  He laughed into the empty space, a bitter, hollow sound. He had always aspired to be the king his father was. And now, he had become so.

  A king without a queen, who had surrounded his heart in a wall of stone as cold as the castle that he lived in.

  Without her, it would be all the colder. But he would welcome it, embrace it. It would make him the leader he had always needed to be. It was a small sacrifice to make for the good of the nation.

  A good ruler led with his head and not his heart. A good thing too. Because when Tabitha walked out, she took his heart with her.

  And still, he let her leave. In the end, he counted it a blessing.

  Finer feelings were for men who had not been born with a kingdom to protect.

  He clenched his jaw tightly, and curled his fingers into fists, tightening his hold until his tendons ached. He welcomed the dull pain because it distracted him from the sharp, bitter anguish in his chest. An ache he had a feeling he would have to become accustomed to.

  But it was nothing he had not dealt with before. He would make room for this pain next to the one left by his mother. And he would go on as he always had.

  There was no other option.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  FOR THREE NIGHTS, Kairos was plagued with nightmares. Images of a woman walking away from him, of his voice not working, his feet being stuck to the spot. He hated this. This feeling of powerlessness. And in his sleep, it refused to abate. During the day, he did what was required of him. He even issued an official statement regarding the separation of himself and the queen.

  Part of him had imagined that if he took official steps to deal with the divorce, it would set things right inside of him. That it would make things feel final. But nothing took away the dreams.

  He threw the covers back on his bed and stood, walking out the double doors that led to a balcony that overlooked the mountains and the forest back behind the palace. There was still snow on the ground here in Petras at the higher elevations, and it blanketed everything in glittering frost, making the time spent on the island seem even more surreal. Even more removed from time.

  He was continually waiting for a sense of relief to hit. With Tabitha gone, he would not have to contend with the more conflicting elements of their relationship. He would be free to focus again with a kind of single-mindedness he hadn’t fully managed since they married.

  The icy air bit into his bare skin and he did nothing to shield himself from the cold as he walked farther out onto the balcony, resting his hands on the balustrade and looking out over all of the land that he bore responsibility for. This was his birthright. This was what he would leave to his child, should he ever truly have one.

  Usually, he felt some sense of pride looking down at Petras. Tonight, the bare landscape seemed as empty as he was. It did not seem full of promise, at least, not for any future he cared about. He should be angry. Angry that Tabitha had proven to be as false as every other woman in his life.

  But he was not. Because for whatever reason, he could not make comparisons between Tabitha and his mother, not now. Yes, that moment had reminded him of the day his mother had walked away, but she was not his mother.

  And he’d never truly been afraid of that. He’d told himself he was. That he needed a cold, loveless union to prevent himself from falling prey to a fickle, passionate woman. But that had never been his real fear. He was his real fear.

  When he had fallen to his knees and wept after his mother had left, when he had refused to leave his room, to get out of bed for days after she had gone, his father had told him that he showed the same signs of weakness that had caused his mother to abandon her duty.

  And Kairos had known it to be so. After their mother had left, many people looked at Andres and thought that he was a reflection of the queen. Flighty, free-spirited, and given to reckless, spontaneous action. But Kairos had known the truth.

  Andres—while giving the impression of being the feckless spare—did everything with a measure of cold calculation. He did it for the response of the people around him, did it to test their loyalty. And he did it to great effect. But it was Kairos who had that deep well of emotion down in his soul. The one that he could not control. The one that would cause him to act recklessly, to abandon his duty if emotion dictated.

  He had wanted to be his father. Desperately. To be the kind of leader that the country needed. But he had known that he wasn’t. He was his mother, through and through. Weak, emotional. And so, he had sought to destroy it. To go out of his way to erect barriers between those deadly emotions and his decisions. So he had trapped both himself and Tabitha in a union that could have been, and should have been so much more than he was willing to allow it to be.

  Because he was afraid. Afraid of what he might do. Afraid of how weak he might truly be.

  You just have to choose. You have to choose to trust.

  No. He could not make that choice. C
ouldn’t choose to trust himself or Tabitha.

  He gritted his teeth against the anguish that assaulted him. He wanted her. Just thinking about her sent a wave of longing over him. A wave of longing that was destined to go unmet for the rest of his life.

  He thought back again to the night his mother had left. To the look in her eyes. Sadness. Fear. She had been afraid. He had never fully realized that before this moment. How could he? When she had left, he had been little more than a boy, concerned entirely with his own emotions and not at all with hers. She was the enemy of that tale, and nothing more. That had been reinforced by his father, and also by his increased understanding of the way she had treated Andres when he was a boy.

  But, for some reason, now all he could see was the fear. It twisted the memory, changed it. Made the moment into something different altogether. She wasn’t walking away from him. She was running. Running from the palace. From that life. Likely, from the weight of responsibility.

  Oh, how he knew that fear. That very same fear. He was running, even now.

  He turned away from the balustrade, walking back into the bedroom, and pulled on his pants. Then he took a sharp breath and walked out the door, stalking down the hall, headed for his office. He badly needed a drink. Something, anything to quiet the demons that were rioting through his mind.

  He pushed open the door, making his way to the bar at the far end of the room, shutting out all of the memories currently assaulting him of what it had been like to take Tabitha in here. To put her up on that desk and release five years of desperate sexual tension in one heady moment.

  He ignored the images that were assuming control of his consciousness and poured a measure of liquor into a glass. Behind him, he heard the door open. He turned, part of him expecting to see Tabitha there for some strange reason.

  But no. Tabitha was gone. And it was only Andres.