Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5

by McKenna James

  I didn’t know if I could take having my heart torn into pieces again. I needed to dive into my work. It was the only thing that was going to distract me. And maybe then, just maybe, I’d stop hurting. I could throw myself into my responsibilities and become the Crown Prince of Wyvernbank that my people deserved. If I put my mind to it and focused, I could prove to not only myself, but my father and my countrymen, that I was more than capable of carrying the crown. Nothing else mattered to me except moving forward. And the sooner I moved forward, the sooner I’d forget all about her. There was no way I was ever going to allow myself to be this vulnerable ever again. A future King under the thumb of a woman wasn’t worthy of being King at all.

  “Your Royal Highness?” called Patrick. “Are you alright.”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes, Patrick. Thank you for all your hard work.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. Is there anything I can get you before I go?”

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  Patrick nodded his once, but didn’t leave immediately. I looked up to study him. His brows were pulled together into a steep frown, and there was something akin to worry glazing his eyes. He stood with his hands folded neatly in front of him as he glared down at the floor.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “I just wanted to inform you that Ambassador Clavets has an appointment to speak with His Royal Majesty.”

  “My father? What about?”

  Patrick refused to meet my eyes, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

  “Out with it, Patrick.”

  “There are rumors,” he began softly, “that your father has started to look at the list of potential marriage candidates very seriously.”

  “Not this again,” I growled.

  “Nothing’s set in stone yet, but it’s very obvious your father is hoping to abdicate soon. He’s not getting any younger. As you know, he’s been pushing more and more of his responsibilities on you.”

  “To make the transition easier,” I realized.

  “Yes.”

  I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated. “He can go through the list as many times as he wants. I’m not getting married just because I’m about to become King.”

  “I was getting there,” snapped Patrick. “He’s not considering the list. He’s only considering one marriage candidate.”

  “And who would that be?”

  Patrick inhaled through his teeth. “Ambassador Clavets’ daughter. Elena Clavets.”

  15

  Alison

  As weeks turned into months, it slowly became harder to hide my pregnancy behind loose shirts and bulky sweaters. It finally came to the point where Klaus could no longer stand my questionable fashion choices and dragged me out of the office to go maternity clothes shopping on our lunch break. I found myself roaming the spacious aisles, shifting through racks of clothes, but couldn’t make up my mind about what I wanted to wear.

  “How about this one?” he suggested, holding up an awful pair of polka-dotted stretch pants.

  “Absolutely not.” I grimaced.

  “You’re going to have to pick something at some point, Ali.”

  “I know, I just… Can’t we find something that’s monochromatic? I don’t want to attract more attention at work than necessary.”

  “You don’t think the baby bump will do that for you?”

  I glared at Klaus, who immediately put his hands up in mock surrender.

  “I’m just trying to help,” he argued.

  “I know you are. Sorry if I’m snappy.”

  “I’ll blame it on your hormones.”

  “Thanks.”

  On the other side of the clothes rack, Klaus continued to browse the store’s limited selection. He pursed his lips in thought. “So you’re really not going to tell him?”

  I shook my head and sighed. “No. I’m not.”

  “I know this is really none of my business, but don’t you think he has a right to know?”

  “I’m feeling incredibly judged right now.”

  “Oh, stop that. You know I’m not judging you. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “Know what I’m doing? Are you serious? I have absolutely no clue. I just…” I trailed off, the words on the tip of my tongue dying before I could speak them. “It’s complicated,” I finally said.

  “No offense, Ali, but no shit.”

  “If you could dial back the sassiness by a notch or two, I’d appreciate it.”

  “So let me get this straight,” mumbled Klaus as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re keeping the baby, but you’re not telling the father.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And the father is Prince Sebastian?”

  I shushed him hastily, looking left and right to make sure nobody overheard. The shop was relatively empty, save for the cashier at the front register. She was too distracted with a silly little mobile game on her phone to have noticed.

  “Not so loud,” I snapped.

  “I’m going to take it that, that’s a yes?”

  “Yes. Sebastian’s the father.”

  “On a scale of one to ten, how sure are you?”

  “Ten,” I stated. “I hadn’t slept with anyone in years before I met him. He’s the only possibility.”

  Klaus sneered. “A simple ten would have sufficed.”

  I snorted, grinning for the first time in what must have been forever. “I’m sorry.” I chuckled. “I forgot heteronormativity freaks you out.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Talking to my boss about her sex life, however, does.”

  I finally found a shirt I could half-way tolerate and picked it off of the rack. The fabric was stretchy and would easily get the job done, but it was a faded shade of green that reminded me too much of moss.

  “Why won’t you tell him?” asked Klaus after a moment.

  “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

  “Are you really prepared to raise the child on your own?”

  “What am I supposed to do?” I snapped. “If I tell Sebastian, any number of things could happen. I’m just trying to do what’s best for the baby.”

  “Is this because of Clavets?”

  “He’s definitely part of the problem. If I go back to Sebastian and explain that I’m having his baby, that asshole Clavets could make good on his threat and expose us. It’d ruin not only Sebastian’s life, but the baby’s life, as well. I couldn’t live with myself if I brought a child into the world that already hated it for no reason other than it was born out of wedlock. People are vicious like that, and they won’t let the fact that it’s an infant deter them from speaking their minds.”

  “Ali, that’s–”

  “And even if I did tell Sebastian, what would he do? He’d probably insist on getting back together. Which, again, doesn’t solve the fact that Clavets has dirt on us.” I instinctively placed a hand over my swollen belly. “This child is royalty, Klaus. The Wyvernbank Royal Family will probably want to raise it. They’ll take the baby away from me.”

  “Ali, calm down before you hurt yourself,” warned Klaus in a soft but firm voice. “Take a deep breath, okay?”

  I did as I was told, breathing in slowly through the nose and exhaling through the mouth. It made me feel a little better, but stress had sunk its teeth into the muscle of my back and neck. I could feel the start of a migraine coming, a terrible pressure building up behind my eyes.

  “I’m just trying to do right by the baby,” I whispered. “I want to make sure it’s safe above all else. Relations between Wyvernbank and Sunyata have been remedied, but not smoothed over. Throwing a child into the mix isn’t good for anyone. There’s no telling what could happen. I’m just trying to protect the baby. And Sebastian. And maybe even our two nations.”

  Klaus managed a small, gentle smile. “You’re going to be a good mom.”

  “I hope so,” I admitted quietly. “I swear, I’ll tell him as soon as the baby arrives, but not a moment sooner.
At least that gives me time to get everything sorted out, you know?”

  “I have a feeling nothing I say will change your mind.”

  “It won’t,” I confirmed.

  16

  Sebastian

  When King Regis asked something of you, you did it. No questions asked, no protest given. I’d returned to the palace at his request almost eight months ago, and was now fully settled into the east wing. I rarely left the palace grounds, and I only made short trips into the city to take care of business on my father’s behalf. Rumors were going around like wildfire that my father’s health had been deteriorating at an alarming rate, and now nosy reporters were doing everything they could to catch a few pictures of me. Patrick had informed me that several news vans had parked themselves outside the palace gates in hopes that they’d be the first to any headline-worthy stories. My two favorite places were the royal gardens located in the back courtyard and my study, primarily because nobody bothered me there.

  But today was different. Today, I had to entertain a guest, and that involved leaving my stuffy study for the grand hall. Patrick, ever the steadying anchor in my life, followed a few steps behind me.

  Elena curtseyed when I entered the room, even though I’d expressly told her that wasn’t necessary anymore. Behind her stood her overly protective father, who bowed with all the dramatic flare he could muster, bending so far that his upper body was parallel to the cold marble floors.

  “Your Royal Highness,” they greeted in unison, Ambassador Clavets’ booming voice swallowing that of his daughter’s.

  I held out my elbow for Elena to take, which she immediately did. We started to walk down the hall together before her father had a chance to say anything further. As I passed Patrick, I whispered in his ear. “Leave us. I want to speak with Miss Clavets alone.”

  “Of course, Your Royal Highness,” he said, immediately placing himself between us and the Ambassador, preventing him from following.

  I took Elena to the library at the end of the east wing. The space was the size of my entire apartment back in the city. Massive hardwood shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with books, new and old. The curtains had been drawn over all of the windows to prevent damaging the fragile pages, so it was absurdly stuffy inside the library. The air was heavy, and the clicking of our shoes on the floors was muffled by the collection of books that encircled us. We took a seat at an empty table where one of the house attendants had left a fresh tray of pastries and a hot kettle of tea.

  “Are you sure it’s okay to talk here?” asked Elena quietly, picking at her nails.

  I poured her a cup of tea and slid the delicate teacup and saucer to her. “It’s fine,” I confirmed. “I had Patrick sweep for bugs, and none of the house attendants are allowed here without my permission. No one’s going to be listening in.”

  Elena sighed, relief. “That’s good.”

  “How have you been?” I asked politely. “It’s been a few weeks since you returned to Dulan.”

  “Everything’s good,” she answered vaguely.

  I served myself a cup of tea and sipped at the rim of my cup. “And how’s Tomas? Is everything well with him?”

  Elena’s eyes glossed over, suddenly wispy. “He’s fine,” she mumbled, voice shaking from nerves. All I had to do was raise a skeptical eyebrow before she finally cracked. “No, that’s a lie,” she admitted. “He hasn’t spoken to me since he found out–” She broke out into harsh sobs, covering her face with her hands.

  “Our marriage hasn’t been confirmed yet,” I reasoned.

  “But it will be. My father’s been pushing hard to solidify the arrangement. He says that Wyvernbank would benefit from a formal alliance through marriage. It’s all so… It’s all so archaic.”

  I nodded. “Can’t argue with that.”

  “What are we going to do? I don’t want to marry you. No offense.”

  “None taken,” I said dryly. “I don’t want to marry you either.”

  “How do you deal with it?”

  “Deal with what?”

  “How do you deal being a pawn in someone else’s game?”

  I shrugged, staring at the bottom of my cup. “You get used to it.”

  Elena shook her head and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands. “I don’t think I ever will. Don’t tell my father, but I secretly hope he’s replaced soon. I don’t think I can take this any longer.”

  “Have patience,” I insisted. “This kind of game requires… Well, long-term thinking. Things are going to look bleak for a little while, but I promise things will work out.”

  “You sound really sure of yourself.”

  “There’s an old Dulanian expression,” I hummed to myself. “Fake it until you make it?”

  She managed a small, pathetic giggle. “We don’t say that. I think you’re thinking of Sunyata.”

  In the last few months, I’d had Patrick deal with all my work that dealt with Sunyata foreign policy. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to even look at a map. Even with the slightest mention of Sunyata, my thoughts immediately found their way back to her. I’d promised that I wouldn’t allow myself to be hung up, to tread about in my own pity. I couldn’t remember the sound of her voice or the scent of her hair. I couldn’t remember quite what she looked like, just the general shape of her face and the relative length of her dark hair. All I could remember was the way she made me feel, like a new man with a fire in my soul.

  I hadn’t kept tabs on her because I knew doing so would only make me miserable. Even though he denied it, Patrick was still in touch with Klaus. Whenever his phone would buzz and he’d crack a smile, I knew it must have been her personal assistant. The private investigator I’d hired all those months ago hadn’t come up with any new information, but I urged him to keep a watchful eye on Alison anyway. I simply couldn’t just let her go, even after learning she’d moved on. There was more to her abrupt departure, I could feel it—the distressed pit in my gut told me something was amiss, and eventually, I’d learn what.

  “How long will you be here?” I asked, making general conversation.

  “For the next couple of days. My father has a few meetings he needs to attend.”

  “Feel free to message me if you want somebody to talk to.”

  “Thank you. That’s really sweet.”

  “And make sure you speak with Tomas. If you feel strongly about him, don’t let him go.”

  “I guess sometimes I feel hopeless.”

  “Trust me, if you don’t at least fight for him, you’ll only regret it.”

  “You sound like you’re talking from experience,” she mumbled.

  I smiled sadly, but refused to answer.

  Little did she know … I was.

  17

  Alison

  I didn’t understand what true joy felt like until I got to hold my son in my arms. The nurses had cleaned him up and wrapped him in warm blankets before finally letting me take him. I was exhausted, but none of that mattered now that he was part of my life. Peering down at his small eyes, his chubby cheeks, and pouty lips, I realized I’d never known a greater love. I just wanted to enjoy this quiet moment, to appreciate the journey I’d taken to bring him into the world. I pushed all my hopes and fears for his future to the side. Nothing else mattered except for this little boy who had, in an instant, stolen my heart.

  “What’s his name?” Kamrin asked me. She’d been with me when my water broke and rode with me in the ambulance. She looked almost as tired as I did, what with her hair up in a messy bun, and clothes a little disheveled from having slept in an awkward position on one of the spare chairs.

  “Adam,” I answered. “Adam Smith.”

  “Adam,” she echoed. “Hi, Adam. I’m your Auntie Kamrin.”

  The baby boy cooed, yawning wide. It was so preposterously adorable that I almost cried then and there. There was no way I was going to let anything bad happen to him. I was going to protect him from the world with every ounce of strengt
h that I had.

  Kamrin giggled. “I’m going to spoil you rotten. Your mommy’s going to hate me so much.”

  “You absolutely will not,” I laughed.

  “I’m going to be one who teaches you how to drive, since your mommy doesn’t know how.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I weep for the sake of fellow drivers.”

  “I’ll even teach you how to flirt with girls. Or boys. Whatever floats your boat.”

  The door to the hospital room clicked open, and Klaus entered, face hidden by a tall bundle of freshly picked flowers.

  “Speaking of boys,” mused Kamrin.

  Klaus smiled down at me and Adam while he placed the flowers on the bedside table. “These are for you,” he said before reaching into his pocket to pull out a stuffed bear. “And this is for the little guy.”

  “Thank you,” I hummed.

  Klaus took a seat next to my sister. “You’ll be happy to know that I managed to extend your maternity leave,” he informed me. “You’ll have an additional three months, so I hope that helps with the transition.”

  “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “I do my best.”

  “You really do deserve a raise,” I sighed. “Remind me to put in the paperwork for an increase the moment I get back.”

  “That is considerate of you, Ali, but for now, you need to rest while you can. The joys of motherhood have only begun.”

  Squalling cries jolted me from my sleep, and I could cry right along with Adam. These last five months had been bittersweet—the restless, sleepless nights full of colic fits and projectile vomiting had caused us both to cry together on more than one occasion. I tossed the blanket aside when his little cries grew louder and trudged down the hallway only to meet Kamrin at the nursery door, rubbing her eyes.