United by Their Royal Baby

by Therese Beharrie

  ‘So you always knew there was more, too?’

  ‘Of course I did. Did you think I was resisting something I knew wasn’t true?’ She frowned. ‘You were so sure...?’

  ‘I was betting with the most important thing in my life, Leyna. I had to be.’

  She stared at him, and then shook her head. ‘If I didn’t already love you, Xavier, I think I might have fallen for you right now.’

  ‘But you do. Love me.’

  ‘I do.’ And, realising that he needed to hear the words, she said, ‘I love you, Xavier.’

  He pulled her into his arms and rested his forehead on hers. ‘And you’re going to marry me.’

  ‘I am,’ she answered, though it wasn’t a question. ‘As soon as I possibly can.’

  ‘I think this might be—’

  It happened so quickly that Leyna barely registered what had cut Xavier off. All she knew was that her royal aide, Carlos, was now standing in front of her and Xavier. Their bodyguards hovered just beyond him; their expressions were twisted with an emotion she couldn’t read, but it had her heart pounding with fear.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, stepping out of Xavier’s embrace.

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt—’ there was the briefest moment of hesitation before Carlos said ‘—Your Majesty.’

  Chapter One

  Ten years later

  ‘IS HE HERE, CARLOS?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, Your Majesty.’

  For the second time in Leyna’s life, Carlos had brought her news of the last thing she wanted to hear. Now, of course, he was bringing it to her as her private secretary and not as a royal aide.

  But then, her father’s death had changed more than just Carlos’ title. She’d become Queen immediately, and had lost the only man she’d loved. And now the news that King Zacchaeus of Kirtida had not arrived for the State Banquet intended to affirm the Alliance of the Three Isles threatened to be just as life-changing.

  She closed her eyes for the briefest moment and then nodded. Released a breath.

  ‘Please find His Majesty, King Xavier, and ask him to join me in the library.’

  ‘Of course, Your Majesty.’

  When Carlos left, Leyna took another deep breath. And a moment to deal with the feelings tumbling through her stomach. She opened the doors to the balcony of her library and greedily inhaled the fresh air.

  It felt like the only thing keeping her alive.

  The panic came now. Not dull as it had been when she’d first heard that King Jaydon of Kirtida had been overthrown by his son, Zacchaeus. And nowhere near how it had felt when he’d consistently refused her and Xavier’s attempts to discuss the future of the alliance binding their islands together, though she’d believed it sharp then.

  No, the feeling cutting through her lungs now, tightening her throat and making her hands shake, was much worse.

  But she only had a few moments before Carlos returned with Xavier. She forced herself to focus on her breathing, something she’d learnt to do when she’d taken over the crown after her father’s death.

  When her heart, broken from her breakup with Xavier and from her mother fleeing, had beat so hard she thought it would explode from her chest.

  She straightened her spine when she heard the knock on the door, turning in time to see Xavier stride past Carlos into the library. As it always did when she saw Xavier—despite the fact that their relationship now was only a political courtesy—her chest tightened.

  She told her memories to stay where they belonged, but couldn’t help the relief that washed through her at his presence.

  ‘He’s not here,’ Xavier said immediately, and she tried not to wince at the tone.

  ‘He’s not. Which means—’

  ‘That he is renouncing Kirtida’s place in the Alliance of the Three Isles.’

  ‘I’d like to think that isn’t true. That Kirtida is still a part of our alliance.’ She saw a glint in his blue—almost grey—eyes, and tilted her head. ‘But his actions since he overthrew Jaydon speak volumes.’

  ‘Refusing our calls to set up meetings and refusing to see us when we resorted to just arriving at Kirtida in hopes of a meeting?’ Xavier asked gravely. ‘Tonight was the last hope we had that he’s willing to work with us, Leyna. So yes, I think his actions tell us exactly where we stand with him.’

  ‘If we assume he’ll withdraw—’ panic rippled through her chest again ‘—what do we do?’

  ‘We respond accordingly.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘We ensure that Zacchaeus knows the alliance between Aidara and Mattan is still intact. We ensure that our people know it, too.’

  ‘I’m sure there isn’t any doubt about that,’ Leyna said. ‘You are here at the dinner intended to do that very thing after all.’

  ‘It isn’t enough.’

  She saw the determination in his eyes—in each of the once kind, now intimidating angles of his handsome face—and the relief she’d felt steadily ebbed. Her body tensed, and she saw that tension reflected in his tall, muscular frame, too.

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ she asked carefully.

  ‘Something that will leave Zacchaeus and our people without any doubt about the strength of our alliance. Something that will reassure our people that Kirtida’s absence from the Alliance of the Three Isles doesn’t mean they are unprotected.’

  Silence pulsed in the room, and then Leyna said, ‘Tell me what you’d like us to do, Xavier.’

  ‘We should get married.’

  Leyna’s thoughts immediately went back to that day on the beach when Xavier had proposed to her.

  Her knees nearly buckled and she turned away from him and walked straight onto the balcony. She gripped the railing and fought for breath. And then she fought to be free of the memories.

  They were vicious, she thought, and crept up on her when she least wanted them to. She’d only been fooling herself with her hope that they’d stay in the past. But she’d been desperate. Perhaps because she knew every moment she spent with Xavier would threaten to draw her back into what could have been.

  She couldn’t afford for that to happen. She couldn’t afford to think about the hope, the love, that she’d felt on the day he’d proposed to her. If she did, she would inevitably think of the cold feeling that had come over her when Carlos had first called her ‘Your Majesty’.

  She would think about the days she’d spent in a daze of heartbreak, worsened by her mother leaving Aidara the moment they’d buried her father. She would remember the fear she’d felt about ruling alone. How all the warnings her grandmother had given her about Xavier had haunted her dreams.

  And the utter devastation when she’d realised that she couldn’t be the Queen Aidara needed with Xavier by her side.

  She took a minute to compose herself. When she was sure the emotion and memories were as far away as she could push them, she walked back into the library. Xavier’s face was stony, but just above his lip was a twitch Leyna recognised as anger.

  ‘How would that work exactly? Us, married?’

  ‘If we got married,’ Xavier spoke in a careful tone, ‘it would be clear—not only to Kirtida, but to the world—that Aidara and Mattan are united. And with our collective military, our resources, our people, we would be powerful enough to defend against anything Kirtida attempts.’

  ‘Marriages end, Xavier,’ she said in the same tone, and saw the heat of anger flare in his eyes.

  Good.

  ‘Royal marriages don’t just end.’

  ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘But you and I both know we can’t anticipate what might happen in the future.’

  Maybe bitterness spurred on her words, but she didn’t give it much thought. Whatever motivated them didn’t change that what she’d said was the truth. She’d seen it with her parents. Her father’s death
had made her mother forget her responsibilities to the crown. To Aidara. To her daughter.

  Granted, Helene had married into the royal family of Aidara, and hadn’t been Aidaraen herself. When Leyna was feeling sympathetic towards her mother, she thought it must have been hard for Helene to stay in the place where her heart had been broken.

  But those times were rare, and quickly followed by the reminder that Helene had left her daughter to fend for herself in the hardest job in the world. Without any support.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means exactly what I said. Marriages don’t last for ever. You know that better than anyone.’

  ‘Leave Erika out of this,’ Xavier nearly growled, and Leyna’s bitterness meshed with jealousy.

  ‘You’re the one bringing her into this,’ she said lightly. Carefully. ‘I wasn’t talking about your marriage—I meant the institution, not your spouse.’

  She gave him time to process—though, if she were honest with herself, it was more for her to find her own control again.

  ‘What are you suggesting, Leyna?’

  ‘Only that marriage is not enough to secure an alliance. Especially a precarious one.’

  ‘So what do you want then? A child?’ he asked sarcastically.

  She’d had a nippy reply on the tip of her tongue that disappeared the moment her mind processed his words. There was something in that, she thought. But, for the life of her, she couldn’t wade through the flood of emotions his suggestion had released to identify what that something was.

  But, because she had to, she struggled through it. Through the hope that came from a dream she’d given up on a long time ago. Of being a family with Xavier. Of having children with him.

  Through the sadness that had come with the realisation that that would never happen. Through the resentment that she would still have to carry a child—with some man who would be her husband though she would never love him—for the sake of the crown.

  And again, through the resentment that she’d given up her dreams for the crown.

  And then again, through the hope that maybe duty would make that dream come true after all.

  ‘It’s not a real option,’ Xavier interrupted her thoughts. Her gaze moved to his and held, sparks she would never admit aloud still flying between them.

  ‘Unless it is.’

  ‘How would that possibly improve the situation with Zacchaeus?’

  ‘For the reasons you outlined. Except now we don’t only have the marriage backing our alliance, but a child as well. Which would mean that even if something happens to one of us, Aidara and Mattan would still be protected by the other.’

  ‘Mattan would take care of Aidara if anything happened to you,’ Xavier answered stiffly.

  ‘Even if that’s true, whoever I marry would need to give me a child. An heir to the Aidaraen throne. You know that,’ she told him, and saw the confirmation of it in his eyes. ‘The same goes for you. There’ll need to be a child for the Mattanian throne, too. And you can’t deny the political power in having one child as an heir to both kingdoms’ thrones.’

  Xavier ran a hand through his dark hair, giving her a glimpse of the lighter streaks that she knew showed when it wasn’t styled so precisely. It made the colour of his skin, which spoke of the mixed African and European heritage they both had, look like a tan. As though he had lazily picked one up on holiday instead of from the work he did amongst his citizens.

  But anyone who knew Xavier couldn’t deny he was a king. Leyna had always thought he looked exactly as a king should—authoritative, uncompromising, powerful. Only she had been privy to the other side of him when they’d been growing up. The easy, laidback man who’d relaxed on the beach with her and would casually hold her hand as they walked through the gardens.

  It felt like a punishment that she no longer saw that Xavier. No, now she, too, experienced only that authoritative, uncompromising and powerful side of King Xavier.

  Just as everyone else did.

  But could she blame him?

  ‘Let me see if I understand this,’ Xavier said. ‘You think that if we marry it won’t be enough to strengthen the alliance between Aidara and Mattan on the off-chance something might happen to one of us. So you want to have a child to make sure that if something happens, our kingdoms will still be protected because there is a single heir to both our thrones?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘And don’t be so dismissive of the possibility of something happening to one of us. We’ve both seen people we love die younger than they should have. It is a possibility.’ She gave him a chance to process before continuing. ‘A child gives us assurances in both cases. If something happens and if it doesn’t, because there’s no way Kirtida can misinterpret marriage and an heir. There’s also no better way to strengthen the alliance.’

  ‘That might be true, except for one little thing.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t give you a child.’

  Chapter Two

  XAVIER WATCHED THE shock in her eyes disappear behind the curtain that hid all her emotions. The emotions he’d once been able to read as easily as he did his favourite books.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Leyna asked softly. He wanted to tell her—would have, had it been ten years before—but he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was infertile. The fact that he’d alluded to it at all told him how much she shook him.

  And how much he wanted to shake her.

  How much he wanted to crack that perfectly logical, reasonable veneer she wore like a shield.

  ‘It means there are cracks in that perfect plan of yours. And it’s all a little...desperate.’

  ‘You were the one who brought it up,’ she shot back, reminding him of yet another of his slips. ‘And yes, a child is desperate, but aren’t we in a desperate situation?’

  ‘So, you’re saying desperate times call for desperate measures?’

  ‘If you’d like to use that cliché to help you understand it, then yes.’

  ‘And how would we conceive this child?’ He knew he wasn’t asking it because of his fertility problems but, again, because he found himself wanting to pierce through that cold facade. ‘Should I stay after the banquet for us to get...reacquainted?’

  He hated how bitter he sounded—worse still, how the bitterness had made him more vulgar than he’d intended. He watched her honey-coloured skin go pale, and felt the satisfaction of it just as acutely as he felt the shame.

  Her lack of colour made the golden-brown of her hair—the green of her eyes—all the more striking. And if he added the gold dress she wore, which clung to her curves in a way that made him forget she was a queen...

  She wasn’t the delicate Princess from their youth any more, he thought. Though her face still had its slight angles and there were still freckles lightly spread over her nose, the woman who had laughed with him in the waters that separated their islands—the woman who’d once agreed to marry him—was gone.

  The woman who stood in front of him now had a realism in her eyes that sent an ache through his body. The light that had always been there had been dimmed by whatever she’d gone through in the ten years since they’d been close. There was power, more authority, too. She’d changed, he knew.

  But then, so had he.

  ‘It won’t work,’ she told him, colour flooding her skin again. ‘I know you’re trying to shake me, but it won’t work.’

  ‘Won’t it?’ he asked, taking a step towards her. Her eyes widened, and awareness sizzled through his body. He’d loved those eyes once. They’d told him everything he needed to know. And though there were many less disturbing memories to choose from, his mind offered him the day Leyna had agreed to marry him.

  Her eyes had shone with a love he hadn’t thought capable of hurting him the way it—the way she—had. And then there had been the desire in
her eyes a few moments later. When he’d had her against a tree. She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her, but there had been fear, uncertainty, too.

  He saw those emotions in her eyes again now. And it made him wonder whether they were caused by the same reason. That she’d never been with a man before. The thought stirred a mess of emotions in his chest that he didn’t want to think about. Though there was one thing he couldn’t ignore, and that was the fact that he still wanted her, regardless of what the answer to that question was.

  It shocked him into stepping back.

  ‘No, it won’t,’ she said, and he heard the breathiness she tried to mask. ‘Because we both have kingdoms to think about. Unless you’ve forgotten that’s the real reason for all of this?’

  She was right, he thought. He needed to think about his kingdom. And that meant he couldn’t deny her suggestion had merit. If he pushed all his feelings about it aside, he could recognise the strength and subsequent protection a marriage and child would offer Mattan.

  He was also sure his family would approve. Sure, they’d treated his relationship with Leyna as an indulgence in the past. Mostly because they couldn’t deny how beneficial a union between him and Leyna—between Mattan and Aidara—would have been. But the moment they’d realised that wouldn’t be happening, they’d told him to snap out of it. To think of his kingdom.

  Since that was what drove him now, too, he knew they would approve. And since the man he and Leyna had grown up with no longer seemed to exist in Zacchaeus, Xavier was forced to face that this might be their only option.

  Which meant he needed to tell her the truth of his fertility problems.

  The thought had him heading straight to the alcohol decanter next to her desk. He flipped over two glasses, and poured a splash of the brown liquid into each. He offered her one and, when she took it, downed his own. He would have liked another, but that wouldn’t have been wise considering what he was in Aidara to do. Or what he was about to say.

  ‘I can’t have children.’

  He set the glass back in its tray. It gave him a reason to avoid the emotion on her face.