by Ames, Ilsa
She had a very good mind too. Cara was re-learning a language she’d almost forgotten and I could see she understood a lot of what was said around her by a quirk of her head at a catty remark one servant might make about another, or the way she’d smile when people said how lovely and sweet she was. I’d turned that sweet into a vixen though.
I smiled as I sat back on my haunches. The innocent was now a temptress, and she knew exactly what would make me crawl for her. Our interlude in the sauna had been her first real attempt at sauciness, and it had made my toes curl with how hard I’d grown. Those sweet eyes had looked into my soul and wrung every drop of doubt out of my head for those moments.
Would I give up a crown for her?
That was the question that pounded through my brain. Would it be the stupidest decision of my life if I continued to defy my father? There was nobody I could talk to about this, not even Paloma and she was the closest thing I had to a best friend at this point in my life. My royal friends would all try to use the information to their own advantage, and non-royal friends would sell the story to the first tabloid that offered the price they wanted. And Paloma?
Well, she’d tell me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear, and right now, I didn’t want to risk any advice that would contradict what I’d already decided. I could not live for my father, and I’d given all of my life to a crown I might never wear anyway. Sure, my father had slowed with age, I had taken on more of his duties, but he wouldn’t abdicate and he wasn’t ill. Was there a point in being an old king?
That really shook me to my core. I looked around me, and for the first time, really looked at my own life. I’d been raised to be a king, a role my father took on his twenties. I was almost thirty, and my father was a healthy man. He could go on for twenty more years. Sure, there was all that faff about duty to one’s country, whatever, but the truth of it was, I had wasted my life on something that might never be. I could have a heart attack in my forties, and I wouldn’t have lived my life for a moment, because I’d waited on a crown that never fell into my hands.
I didn’t want my father to die, it wasn’t that at all; it was just logic that finally brought reality home to me. Livia stood a chance, she’d still be young, even if my father lived to be in his nineties. She might have a life as a young queen, if I abdicated. The country needed maturity, but that would come with age and her advisers. Was I really needed at all?
I could all but hear Paloma now as she railed at me to stop being stupid. Of course a crown was worth the effort, even if I was an old man when it finally fell onto my head. Would I be too old to hold my head up by that point? That almost made me laugh, the vision of a much older me, my head bowed under the weight of the very heavy crown we used in coronations. I could picture myself as I doddered up a red carpet, to a throne that was so big I’d need help to get onto it. Then, that huge crown that might just snap my head off of my neck.
That versus spending the youth I had left with this woman. Maybe we’d go to America, live in a caravan and travel the country while we made babies, and found new ways to blow each other’s minds. Livia could come with us, if she wanted to, and she’d have her own place in our own little circus. I liked that idea and felt peace flow over me as I let the fantasy expand. Our nights would be spent in deserts, under the stars, while we traveled through forests of ancient giant trees in the west. On the east coast, we could explore colonial towns, history, and beaches that I’d seen when I was young.
I hadn’t made it out west, not really. I’d gone to Vegas and Los Angeles, but those didn’t really count did they? I’d want to visit the cowboy towns, the places where gold miners and gunslingers had once roamed the street. Would she be interested in that?
I’d barely known her a month, a little over, but she’d changed my world in a million ways. I saw the problems I’d ignored in my own country now. I saw the way women still weren’t exactly equal to men, and that wealth had started to accumulate with a few, rather than all. I didn’t know how to change that, and I’m not sure I could or should.
It all boiled down to, did I really want to be king? I hadn’t thought about it until Cara came along. She hadn’t asked me, but she might as well have. She led me to question it myself.
Did I want to take on that burden, that weight, of far more than a crown? The fate of thousands of people would lie in my hands. I couldn’t keep a wife happy, or give my daughter what she needed until an uppity American came along and pointed out where I’d fucked up and helped me. She’d make a good adviser, this au pair of mine.
A sigh escaped me quietly, I didn’t want to wake her, not with those circles that had formed under her eyes. I stood up and left without a sound. I needed to drive. I found a car and headed out, but the drive didn’t clear my mind, and I wasn’t really surprised when I pulled up to Paloma’s place.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
It was Paloma and Amos who greeted me when I came through the door. Amos had worked under Paloma for a few years, servicing clients who preferred men to women. Now, he only took a few regular clients while he’d taken over more as Paloma’s second-in-command of the place. Over the years, Amos had become a friend as well.
I could only imagine the tabloid shit-storm that would ensue if word got out of me ‘fraternizing’ with both a known Madame and a male prostitute.
I took the glass of brandy Amos offered me and settled into a chair once we’d made our way to Paloma’s office. Dark panels of wood and shuttered windows seemed to absorb any light that happened to stray into the room. Paloma always had preferred the darker aspects of life.
“Why aren’t you with your little puppy, Andrej?” She asked, her eyes roamed over me, as if to see if I’d changed at all.
“She isn’t a puppy and she isn’t my servant, Paloma. Don’t you start on me too!” I growled the words at her and then downed the brandy.
“Oh, touchy. You are in trouble, aren’t you?” Amos grinned. Apparently, Paloma had filled him in, but I wasn’t concerned. Amos was good people too.
“Yeah, I’m in trouble alright. The kind that might cost me a crown.” I held the glass out to him, nodding for a refill. I could stay in one of the rooms if I had too much to drink.
Paloma smiles as Amos poured the brandy from a crystal jar with a stopper. She sat back in her black leather chair. “Now that you’ll have to explain, my dear heart.”
Only she could get away with such sappy, albeit sarcastic endearments.
“My father has found out about her and isn’t happy.”
“Did you expect him to be?” She looked at me with a look that was sarcastic and amused at the same time.
“I’m glad I can entertain you, Paloma. My life is about to fall apart here.” I glared at her and sipped at the brandy. My foot tapped, even though the rest of my body was relaxed in a wing-back chair. That was the only sign of my tension, that foot that tapped steadily against the floor.
“You’re going to wear my carpet out with that tapping. Stop it.” She looked at me with bemusement. “What the hell has she done to you?”
“Made me her puppy, it would seem.”
“I don’t fucking believe it.” She sat back in her chair, stunned disbelief etched on her face.
“My God, neither do I.” Amos fanned himself, slugging back some of the brandy.
“Believe it. I might just give up my crown for that little American woman. I just might.”
Paloma frowned. “You might as well shoot yourself now and get it over with, Andrej. How stupid can you be?”
My right eyebrow came down and my eye twitched. “Very, it would seem.”
Chapter 11
Cara
As I stared into the toilet, my stomach in a rage yet again. And now, it was time I faced facts. I’d performed this ritual every morning for the last two weeks, with no signs that my period was on its way. I might’ve been a little naive, and not as savvy as some, but I wasn’t stupid. I’d taken the same biology classes in scho
ol that we all had to take. And the signs were all there, even if it chilled my blood to think it.
I was pregnant.
“Cara, do you still need to go out today?” Andrej called from the door that separated my bedroom from the bathroom.
I needed to get a test, or find a doctor, but with the royal car as a tip-off to anyone that might pass by, my purchases or visits would be noticed. I’d walk into the village and get what I needed on my own.
“I’ll just take a stroll down on my own, Andrej.” I could hear the quaver in my voice, and knew he was concerned when I heard his nails tap against the door.
“Are you sure? Perhaps you need a doctor?”
“No!” I rushed to cry out, my eyes on the door. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get used to the water here a little more. My tummy always goes nuts when I change water supplies.”
I tried to lighten it all with a soft chuckle but that only made my stomach wobble even more. I put a hand over the area where the nausea came from and closed my eyes. Please just go away, Andrej.
I didn’t want to have to explain this to him or anyone else. I heard him sigh against the door before he left, at last.
I cleaned myself up, made sure the bathroom was spotless, and left. I threw on a pair of jeans, a light blue hoody that had seen better days but remained my favorite, and my old, worn-in trainers. I didn’t want to catch anyone’s eye, and in this outfit, people tended to ignore me so well they’d sometimes bump into me. They’d bumble by me, with a muttered apology and a confused look that said, how did you get there?
I left the castle without a single person to notice, and made my way down a small path Alexa had shown me when I first came. The path led straight down to the village, which was a shorter walk. The paved road up to the castle wound a bit and was a much longer walk. Sometimes I would take that path, but today, I was more interested in getting down there and getting back. Hopefully, without anyone that might notice me on my way.
I wanted to run to the pharmacy but made myself keep my usual pace. I walked in, waited for an elderly woman to collect her prescription and pretended to browse a variety of feminine products that were all new to me. Not a box of Tampax or Kotex in sight, in this place. The woman asked the pharmacist to explain the dosage of the medicines three times before he wrote it out in big letters on a piece of paper for the woman and gave it to her.
I walked up and down the aisle, and soon realized that there were no pregnancy tests on the shelves. I looked up and around, the store was small, with only six aisles and the pharmacist’s counter. Where else would they keep the damn things? I looked at the shelves behind the pharmacist and saw it there. Crap. That meant I’d have to ask for it, which meant he might remember me. Damn! There were no major supermarkets around, so I couldn’t go there. I’d have to hope he didn’t know who I was and that he’d forget my face soon enough. I needed that test.
I kept up a constant watch of the entrance to make sure there wasn’t anyone else who might come in while I made my purchase, and when the woman left, still unsatisfied from her expression, I made my way to the counter. I pointed at the boxes behind the man, and he turned without a blink and took a box down. He held it out to me and I just shook my head yes. For all I knew, it was an ovulation kit, but I saw the word for ‘pregnancy’ written in Ikrosovnian on the box and knew it must be the right one. I hoped so, I didn’t want to have to come back.
He rang the box up, took my money, and then handed me the bag with the pregnancy test inside. I thanked him in Ikrosovnian and quickly left. I stuck the box in the wide front pocket of my hoody, threw the bag in a bin outside of a restaurant, and made my way back up to the castle. I made it back to my room without anybody to stop me and went straight for the bathroom.
I did all the necessary steps, and sat with my knees bouncing while I gnawed at my thumb. I’d seen the words for five minutes in the instructions, and thought it was far too long to wait. I shifted as time passed, and put my head in my hand while I rested my elbow on the sink counter beside me. It wasn’t a huge bathroom, but it was nice, and I looked it over as I tried to wait out the required five minutes.
I didn’t think about what I’d do if it was positive. I just reminded myself that Andrej was a prince; I had no claim on him, and the decent thing to do would be to keep my mouth shut entirely. That’s why I’d been so secretive about the whole thing so far. Alexa had started to look at me with speculative looks, she saw me every day, she knew something was up, but she didn’t ask. She was far too polite.
And I couldn’t even imagine what would happen if the media found anything out. I mean, I didn’t want to make a fuss, I just wanted an answer. Then I’d make a decision about what to do next. I flicked on my phone to see what time it was before I looked at the test again. I peered over at the window in the stick and inhaled deeply before I stood up, took the test in my hand, and went into my bedroom.
I sat down on the bed, my lips pursed together tightly.
Positive.
It was positive, and I had no idea what I was going to do. I was pregnant with Prince Andrej’s child. I could hear him now, calm and collected as he’d asked me about birth control all those weeks ago. I’d had a shot before I left America, just in case, and had told him it was fine. I don’t know what had happened, but something had, because there I was, very much pregnant, and I knew he’d blame me. He’d accuse of me of entrapment, and honestly, I wasn’t so sure I wouldn’t do the same if I was in his shoes.
But I couldn’t have those last few moments with him in my life ruined by angry accusations. I’d take myself home, and raise my baby on my own. Andrej wouldn’t have to know about it. I could do this on my own.
I eventually got up, put the test in the wrapper and the box it came in, and shoved those into one of my carry-on bags. I didn’t want anyone to find it and if I threw it in the trash, I knew Andrej would see it. I’d leave it there, where nobody would find it. For now, I decided, I’d keep this all a secret. Nobody had to know and I could figure out what I needed to do. I didn’t know how I’d keep it from him, but I had to, somehow.
I thought about all of the ways he’d come to make me smile over the last few weeks. The way he’d sing Ikrosovnian songs to me to help me sleep, the way he’d run a finger down my face when he wanted to know how I was, and the way he always touched me with my pleasure in mind. Even his off-hand caresses were meant to bring me joy in some way, when we were in Livia’s quarters or even here alone in mine.
We never went anywhere publicly together, and he never made me any promises. I knew we had no future, I was just his bit on the side, the woman who kept him calm until he found a new wife. He’d never said that, but I knew. His silence said far more than words ever could. I meant little to him. Oh, he might care about me in some small way, I knew that, but it was affection, not love.
I felt a pang of loneliness that went bone deep tear through me at that point. I curled my arms over my stomach and flopped to the side on the bed. I didn’t have anybody to talk to here, and the only place I could really go was back home. I didn’t want to leave Livia though, or her father, truth be told. I’d come to adore them both. I freely admitted how much I loved Livia. Andrej?
I didn’t dare allow myself to admit I loved the man, even if I did. That would be a mistake too far. I’d made quite a few since I came here, but that would be the dumbest mistake ever. How could you fall in love with someone who had never promised you anything more than a good time in bed?
When you noticed how he’d changed towards his daughter, how he came to her every night now, and sometimes in the day, when he wasn’t too busy. When you saw him struggle to get the words right for a law that his ministers wanted to pass. He’d taken exception to parts of it, but had struggled to find just the right words to ensure his people’s freedoms remained intact. When he looked at you like you were the only thing that could save him. That’s how you could fall in love.
With a groan, I pulled a pillow over my f
ace and wished I could blink myself right back home. Then I wouldn’t have these problems. It was my day off, so I went to the kitchen and made myself some food. Just a toasted cheese sandwich and some vegetable soup, something to remind me of home. I missed it, but not a lot. Mainly the food I was used to, at the moment.
I didn’t have anyone to run home to once I got back, anyway. Maybe I should travel Europe before I headed home, I thought as I put the bowl and plate in the dishwasher once I’d finished my meal. That would be nice, to travel around for a little while. I’d saved most of my salary so far, so I was building up a nice little chunk of change again. Maybe I could afford it.
Could my heart afford to stay though?
Stupidly, I told myself it could. Or maybe I just craved his touch too much. It might not be love, but it was human contact. I knew I wouldn’t have that if I went back home.
I got my mother’s diary from the drawer beside of my bed and held it. I smoothed a finger down the worn, dark leather of the book. She’d only filled in about three quarters of the diary. She’d missed large swathes of time, but she’d written about important things. The day she’d left home, when she met my father, their wedding day, my birth. All of that had been in the book, with occasional updates in between. A little over two hundred pages had been filled in the thick diary.
She had dreamed of a new life in America. When she reached adulthood, she had been given a good sum of money and she’d gone off to the new world with high hopes for her future. She’d started off really well, she’d had the life so many of her childhood dreams had been centered around. She’d had my father and I, our home that they’d only just bought when they died, and a bright future. Or so they’d thought.
