by Riley Pine
“Slow down there, doll,” I say. “I’ve seen you in the papers and on TV, but I’ve never met you before in my life, let alone planted my seed in you. What crazy fucking game are you playing?”
Her beautiful eyes fill with tears, but then she sniffs, straightens her shoulders and juts out her chin. “At least be man enough to say that weekend meant nothing to you instead of pretending like it never happened.”
“Tell her, Your Highness.”
I spin toward the door to find X standing right behind me, though I didn’t hear him approach. He does shit like this all the time. He’s not there...and then he is. To be honest, it freaks me the fuck out.
“Tell her,” he says again, “how you lost the last year of your life.”
Juliet
“Lost a year? What do you mean by that?” I snap, my voice husky with raw emotion. So much for my years of finishing school. All those tedious lessons on decorum and personal grace fly out the window. I’m reeling. It wasn’t that I expected Damien to welcome me with open arms, be ready to parent our child and live a life beside me filled with sunshine, rainbows and unicorns as we danced cheek to cheek. But... I did harbor a mad secret hope.
At the very least, I expected him to express some basic human emotion upon seeing me, even if it was simply to be filled with regret over our ill-advised fling.
Never could I have expected that he’d disavow me altogether. The psychological blow is too much to take in my delicate condition. Sweat sheens my forehead as my stomach roils. Here it comes. A sickening sensation that is all too familiar of late. Oh no. Not now, I think, but like it or not, I’m going to be sick, and with no notice.
“Highness.” X hands me a white paper bag, the same receptacle that one might find on a commercial airliner. I haven’t the first clue how he procured it from thin air, but I am grateful nonetheless.
“Thank you,” I reply as regally as possible. And then I empty out the contents of my stomach in front of an audience that includes not only my erstwhile lover but his entire family.
I am mired in one royal mess.
In the end, when my breakfast is folded up in the bag and taken away by a maid, I force my gaze to greet theirs. These faces are all as familiar as my own. My entire life I have been taught about our enemy to the south, how Edenvale has always competed with Nightgardin for wealth, land and reputation.
The bigger countries in Europe might chuckle at our border squabbles, but this animosity is no joke. It runs deep and cuts to the bone.
In Nightgardin, children are taught from the time that they are weaned from their mother’s breast to never trust a citizen of Edenvale. Perhaps I should have been a better student.
“She is with child,” X announces gravely. “And claims the child is Damien’s.”
The collective gasp fills the room.
Only Damien remains unmoved. “Bullshit,” he drawls, tightening the bathrobe he wears. “That’s impossible.”
Prince Nikolai glances to him. “Is it, brother? I wasn’t familiar you possessed so much...restraint...around beautiful young women.”
Princess Kate places a warning hand on her husband’s arm. “Darling. Deep breaths.”
Damien lowers himself into a plushly upholstered chair and leans back, legs akimbo. “You’re absolutely right, brother. I am a depraved, lust-filled monster. But I will still deny to my last breath that I could have fathered this child.”
Benedict clears his throat. “Birth control isn’t foolproof.”
“Christ.” Damien drags a hand through his thick, glossy black hair. The beard makes him look ever more the rogue, and yet I cannot deny my attraction. Damn this man.
“Thank you for Sexual Education 101, seminary dropout,” he continues, and I wince at the way he treats his older brother. “But do you know what is foolproof? Not sticking my cock in a woman’s honey.”
“Dear Lord! That’s why they call you the Backdoor Baron in Rosegate.” Evangeline covers her mouth with her hand. “Heavens. I thought it meant you were shy and reclusive.”
“And I could have lived another twenty years and never heard this story,” the king mutters, face pale.
I fist my hands at my sides. “You made love to me the...old-fashioned way,” I mumble, cheeks aflame. My parents had punished me with months of solitary confinement. But this moment is the worst I have endured. My humiliation is complete. All I have left is anger.
“Another lie, Highness. I don’t make love,” he snarls. “I’m told I can’t even feel such a rarefied emotion, right, family?”
“Why are you doing this?” I shout, my pulse loud in my ears. “What’s happened to you?”
X steps forward before Damien has a chance to respond. “Prince Damien was dumped at the royal hospital two months ago. As you can see from the wounds not yet healed, he’d been severely beaten. And he appears to suffer from amnesia concerning the days surrounding his misadventure.”
I suck in a sharp breath and turn my gaze to Damien, now understanding the earlier comment. “I thought X said you’d lost the whole year.”
He taps his temple with his index finger. “It’s slowly returning as I heal,” he says. “The last I remember now, I’d won the Nightgardin Rally. Not long after, my body was dumped at the hospital’s service entrance. It all seems to add up. Except you, that is. I’d have remembered your pretty back door, and I guarantee you’d not be with child after such an encounter.”
The king presses the heels of his palms to his eyes while I fight the urge to slap him silly.
“My mother’s guards had you beaten for being with me. They weren’t exactly gentle dragging you away.”
“You’re quite a storyteller, doll,” he snaps in a harsh tone. “Most likely I racked up too many gambling debts.”
I stride closer to where he lounges in the chair, looking this stranger up and down. I may remember our weekend together, but certainly do not know this Damien.
Ice and stone.
I didn’t expect flowers and roses, but this is like being trapped in a waking nightmare.
“I don’t know who you are, my prince. The man that I spent three magical days with was gentle and considerate.” Exhaustion permeates my every pore, and before I can topple over, X positions a small stool behind me.
“How can we prove her story is true?” Nikolai asks as I sink down. His tone is not unkind.
“A paternity test will take time, especially if the pregnancy is only two months along,” King Nikolai muses, stroking his clipped beard. “In the meantime, if we keep you here, your parents might well wage war to reclaim you.”
I sigh heavily. “I know I have brought danger to all of you here, which should be reason enough to trust me. I would not risk so much for any other reason. But to carry a bastard in my belly, an Edenvale bastard at that—”
“No niece or nephew of mine will grow up with such a stain on their future,” Benedict snaps with unusual feeling. “Brother, you will marry this woman today. Now in fact.” He looks to me again, eyes wide with realization. “Were you not meant to marry the Duke of Wartson this week?”
I nod. “Tomorrow.”
“Damien,” Benedict says, his voice laced with dark warning.
“Never happening,” Damien shoots back.
“I am not a priest, but I am a deacon in the Catholic Church, ordained to perform the sacrament of marriage. If what the princess says is true, and I sense no lie in her words, then this is how we can protect her, our own kingdom and the newest member of the royal family.”
“I accept your proposal,” I answer in a firm, clear voice. I like this brother. He is logical and ethical.
“His proposal.” Damien is on his feet in an instant, but not without a grimace. I force myself not to feel sympathy for his injuries, not when he so clearly wants nothing to do with me and our child. “What about me?” he as
ks. “My say?”
Nikolai joins the fray. “You’ve put our family and country in danger.” His tone is an arctic blast. “Marriage is the only honorable choice. Hell, Damien. It’s the only safe choice. If the king and queen of Nightgardin find her before you right this wrong, do you think her intended will let bygones be bygones? They will execute her and your heir. And because of your...situation...in our court, I’m not sure we’ll be able to protect you. But make her princess of both courts...”
“This is madness,” the king says.
Prince Nikolai nods once. “But it is the only way.” The king doesn’t argue. “The Nightgardin court will hate it,” Nikolai continues. “But their fury will be less than if we allow you to make a whore out of their only daughter and heir. Apologies,” he says to me in a softer tone. “Those aren’t my sentiments. Your kingdom is more conservative.”
I clear my throat, rest a protective hand over my belly. “I understand. My own mother said all of your words to my face...and worse. She cursed the day I was brought into this world. She told me that she wished that I had never been born. It’s only because Wartson never learned I’d been sullied that I am still alive—that the wedding is still on. But I obviously could not go through with it. Not with another man’s child in my womb. Not with Edenvale’s royal blood coursing through my child’s veins. So I fled.”
“How?” Damien narrows his eyes.
I shrug. “I tied four bedsheets together and escaped from my tower like any self-respecting princess. After slipping my servant girl a sleep aid, of course.”
X steps forward again. “Sir, if I may,” he says, addressing Damien. “Either you marry this remarkable woman, or I will.”
Benedict and Nikolai chuckle, but Damien betrays no emotion.
I don’t understand this family. Even in crisis there is humor here, and evidence of love.
“Do it not for her or even the child I believe will turn out to be yours,” the king adds. “Because the worst possible scenario here is that you impregnated our enemy’s heir, and face it, son. If there is a worst possible scenario, you will find a way to achieve it.”
Damien winces at this, and despite the iron will I promised myself I’d have, my heart aches not for the wounds we all can see, but those he’s kept buried far beneath his gruff surface.
I think about the possibilities if Damien and I marry, despite what he feels—or does not feel—for me. My child could grow up here and be safe. Have a life. Freedom. It’s more than I ever could have expected with the duke.
And who knows, maybe the impossible can happen, and someday, far in the future, he or she will be able to bring an end to the tensions between our two kingdoms.
My gaze locks on Damien’s, and this time I don’t look away. It hurts to experience his stare without any feeling behind it—at least not the love I thought we shared. I should have known better, that I was not meant for true love. But at least here my child will have that chance.
Anger and suspicion surround Damien as an almost visible miasma. “Highness?” I ask. “What shall it be?”
This is not what I planned for my wedding day, but at least he is not an old lecherous duke. Never was this day a happy event in my mind, but I hadn’t quite imagined the groom would be in his pajamas looking as if he’d just lost a bar brawl.
“What the hell? Let’s do it,” Damien growls. “But fair warning, Princess, I’m cursed.” He winks.
I force a bitter grin. “Then it appears that we have very much in common.”
CHAPTER SIX
Damien
“TO THE CHAPEL, THEN!” Benedict says with a flourish.
I readjust my robe and tie it tight. There’s being underdressed for an occasion and then there is flat-out ridiculous.
“He’s wearing a robe, my love,” Evangeline says, hooking her arm through Benedict’s. Not that I expected her to come to my rescue, but thank fucking hell someone did.
Juliet unbuttons her camel-colored coat to reveal the servant’s dress she wears beneath. It’s a plain gray smock of a thing with a white apron tied over it. But something about the way her hair falls over her shoulders gives me a sense of déjà vu. I shake it off. There’s no way that I would have made love to Nightgardin’s princess as she claims I did. I was inside one woman like that, and I ruined her wholly and completely. What kind of fool would I have been to make such a mistake twice?
“We’re quite the pair, are we not?” Juliet asks.
“It won’t make the cover of Vogue.” Kate giggles, then covers her mouth. “I think it’s perfect,” she says when she regains control. “You’ll both remember your wedding day for years to come.”
Benedict claps his hands. “We must go now,” he says. “Once Nightgardin realizes Juliet is missing—if they haven’t already—the Black Watch will be after her. And if they know about Damien—”
“Then there will be guns blazing by nightfall,” Nikolai says. “So get your ass to the chapel and save all of our lives, Damien. For once think of someone other than yourself.”
All eyes rest on me now, but I grit my teeth and stride out of the room, my shoulder brushing Nikolai’s as I do.
I can physically feel his rage rising off his body like steam.
“Wait up!” Juliet says, jogging to my side. We are now some haphazard-looking entourage heading out of the palace and across the grounds to the chapel.
“What?” I ask, and this stops her short. But when I keep walking, she starts to catch up again.
“What?” she asks. “What? We’re about to do something unheard of, and you don’t even want to know a little about the woman with whom you are going to spend eternity.”
I snort. “Eternity? This changes nothing, doll. It’s a piece of paper that you can use to prove to your parents that you aren’t...” The words taste bitter. “Aren’t our whore. That is how you said they spoke to you, yes?”
And though she’s been called the name unintentionally once by Nikolai and who knows how many times by her own parents, I’m sick at having to remind her of such a thing. I do not know this woman, but I wish her no harm. No discomfort. Perhaps this is all a game and she’s playing us for fools. But to what end? It doesn’t make sense—the idea of Nightgardin royalty waltzing onto palace grounds to simply use us for some deadly sport.
She falters as we make it through the chapel gates, and I instinctively grab her under the elbow. The brief touch sends an electric jolt up my forearm.
“Easy there, Princess,” I say. “You need food.”
She shakes her head. “I think I already proved that keeping food down isn’t exactly my forte right about now. Morning sick—”
X is beside her with a clean white bag just as the wave hits, and her body convulses.
“Morning sickness,” I say, finishing her sentence.
Once again, everyone stops and forms an arc around the princess. Soon to be my princess, I suppose.
“I’m fine,” she insists after I roll up the bag. “But we should probably skip the whole you may now kiss the bride part?”
She grins sheepishly.
X presses a hand to an ear, then whispers something to my father.
“Go at once,” the king says. “Keep whoever it is busy until we’ve done what’s meant to be done.”
X slips past us and onto the grounds.
“Everything okay, Father?” I ask, but he turns his attention to Nikolai.
“They’re here.”
Juliet gasps, and even I cannot feign disinterest.
“Nightgardin?” I say, teeth gritted. Because somehow I’ve brought this horror to Edenvale, and I don’t even remember doing it.
“Hurry!” Benedict says, and he ushers us down the aisle between the pews. “Rings!” he calls out. “There must be an exchange of rings!”
“Here!” Kate calls, rushing toward
us. She removes both her earrings—two silver hoops just larger than ring size, both encrusted with brilliant diamonds—and places them in Benedict’s palm. “Consider it a loan until you buy her a real one.”
Juliet blushes.
“Look,” I finally say. “I’m doing what needs to be done for everyone involved. But let’s not pretend this is going to turn into some happily-ever-after. The entire continent knows the story of what happened the last time Edenvale and Nightgardin tried to procure peace via two young lovers.”
“They jumped to their deaths,” Juliet says softly.
I bow dramatically, ignoring the lingering pain in my ribs.
“Exactly!” I shout, triumphant. “Maximus and Calista were fools to think they could have any sort of happiness. So please stop pretending that we will be any different.”
Juliet clicks her tongue.
“What now, Princess?” I snap.
She holds her head high. “That’s not how you told the story to me,” she snaps. “When you took me to the Lovers’ Leap, you recounted their meeting—their instantaneous love—with a wistfulness I did not think a man of your reputation capable of. And for a foolish few nights, I let myself believe that maybe we could do what they couldn’t. But I realize now that the Damien I met doesn’t exist anymore. Maybe he never did.”
I open my mouth to deliver some sort of stinging retort, but Nikolai’s phone rings. He answers and hangs it up in a matter of seconds.
“Now, Benedict,” he says. “Marry them now or it’s all over.”
In a whirlwind of generic vows—something about sickness and health, loving and honoring—I’m suddenly sliding one of Kate’s earrings onto Juliet’s finger. She closes her hand into a fist to keep the dangling piece of jewelry in place.
“I do,” she says with a conviction I do not understand. How could she want this—want me?
But then I hear myself saying the same words as if I’m a bystander rather than one of the main participants.
That is what I am now, what I’ve been for years. A bystander in my own life—never fully participating or investing. Why would I? Everyone in whom I invest, I hurt beyond repair.
