by Annie O'Neil
She’d put on the wig, in the end. More because Élodie wanted to wear a mermaid wig and Grace was wearing her Minnie Mouse ears and a tiara, whilst Oliver was wearing a pirate hat, with a plastic sword stuffed in his belt. Rather than be the odd one out, she topped the curly mass of dark curls with a bright red baseball cap with rainbow ‘ears’. Not her best look, but it was fun.
And that was what life with Oliver seemed to be all about. Maxing out the good times whilst respectfully acknowledging the tougher ones.
He was simply the best person she’d ever met in her life. Literally swoonworthy. And she was going to marry him in a few days’ time. For once, she had the palace to thank for their controlling ways.
He’d chosen her ‘hen party’ guests perfectly as well. Huge groups weren’t really her thing, so this quartet was perfect. None of the eclectic foursome had ever been to this theme park and, as such, they were all equally thrilled with the singing and dancing ‘bears’, the swirling teacups and even the ‘abandoned’ treehouse—which, unsurprisingly, Oliver had made them climb up and around twice, as he tried to figure out whether or not he could make a waterwheel out of coconuts for his own tree home.
They had all roared with laughter when Grace, normally so controlled and dignified, had laughed and screamed the loudest when they’d taken a watery rollercoaster ride on huge ‘logs’. But it was Élodie who had taken the lead now they’d entered the part of the park which was almost literally awash with princesses. Rather than pity them, as was Lia’s gut instinct, Élodie adored them with a passion that was utterly infectious.
‘She’s in her element, isn’t she?’ Lia asked Oliver in a low voice, as Grace queued with Élodie to have their photograph taken with a mermaid princess.
‘Princess stories are her favourites,’ Oliver confirmed.
‘Any particular one?’ Lia asked.
‘I’d love to say it’s The Princess and the Pea, which is my favourite.’ He grinned and slipped his arm round her waist, pulling her in for a light hug. ‘But this week she’s all about Belle.’
He shook his head and smiled, as if he were going over all the other stories they’d read together and loving it every bit as much as he had the first time round.
More love than she’d thought possible bloomed within her. This was the man who was going to love her child. Love her. If life felt this great now, who knew how happy she could be in a few years’ time?
Happier than her parents were, she thought, discreetly crossing her fingers and shooting a please look up to the heavens.
‘Belle’s a big reader,’ Oliver said, as if he’d given the matter serious consideration. ‘Which is a good thing.’ He turned his attention back to her and asked, ‘What do you think of Belle? A good role model for little girls? Or too much of a dreamer?’
The sting of pain that always came from revisiting her childhood was tamped down by the realisation that Oliver genuinely cared about what sort of role models Élodie chose. Her heart practically swelled to bursting as she thought of him showing the same level of detailed concern for their own child.
She hadn’t really read fairy tales when she was growing up. Nor had anyone read them to her. Her parents had made a stab at it, sure, but... They’d been busy with their failing marriage, and her nannies had been much more focused on the palace’s long list of rules and restrictions rather than on the actual child they were meant to be caring for.
For her, being raised royal had been basically like being raised in another century. And not a particularly fun one.
‘I have to make a confession.’ Lia bit her lip and looked up into Oliver’s dark blue eyes.
His brow furrowed. ‘About...?’
‘I’m a bit of a novice when it comes to fairy tale princesses. Which one is Belle?’
‘Belle! You know... Beauty and the Beast. Aaargh!’ He distorted his face and turned his hands into claws, making Lia laugh.
‘Which one are you, then?’ she asked playfully.
‘I thought it would be obvious that you, my dear, are Beauty.’
He popped a kiss on her cheek, then returned his gaze to Élodie as he briefly explained the storyline.
His smile turned thoughtful when he said, ‘I think she loves Belle because she isn’t scared of the Beast. She’s had to face a lot of medical monsters in her time. And, of course, the loss of her parents. She’s endured a lot of loss. Too much for a little girl with so much joy to share.’
He gave Lia’s hand a squeeze.
‘Belle’s like you, as well. Smart. Thoughtful. Excellent taste in fiancés,’ he added with a cheeky grin, and then, more gently, ‘Maybe that’s why Élodie enjoys your company so much. You’ve both borne too heavy a burden of loss, too young, but you’re proof that all those hurdles don’t have to trip you up. They make you stronger.’
Lia was about to launch into an explanation of how she had been born into her title, whereas Belle had proactively chosen to be a princess, when what Oliver had said gained purchase.
He saw her as strong. As resilient. Someone who had overcome the struggles in her past rather than someone who had been beaten by them. She’d never looked at herself that way.
She nestled into Oliver’s hug, hoping he understood how much his opinion mattered to her. How grateful she was for his positive outlook on life. He was no beast. He was a knight in shining armour. Her knight. And she knew in that instant that all her fears that he would change when they were married were unfounded. This was who he was. This was the man she would have the privilege of loving for the rest of her life.
They stood together, looking like all the other happy couples, enjoying the hubbub around them and, of course, Élodie’s huge, beaming smile every time she turned round and waved at them, moving closer to the mermaid princess.
Oliver laughed and beamed back, waving like a proud father each time. Kindness radiated from him. His affection for the little girl went beyond that of a doctor and patient, and it dawned on her that he loved her as if she was his own.
Rather than that fact making her feel fearful, or excluded, Lia felt as if she’d been invited into a big love bubble—one that had the capacity to grow into something bigger and better the more their own family grew.
The revelation warmed Lia’s heart in a way she’d never experienced. She’d been taught that love was an exclusive thing. A private thing. But it was quite the opposite. Being generous with his love didn’t detract from Oliver’s love for her, or the child they were going to have. It made it more powerful.
Love, she realised, was Oliver’s superpower.
She wanted to give their child that same gift.
She looked at Oliver, enjoying the delight in his features when Élodie made the mermaid princess laugh when as two of them hugged while Grace took their photo. The mermaid wiggled. Élodie wiggled. The rest of the little girls in the queue wiggled. They were all giggling as if this was the very best moment in their lives.
Oliver started wiggling too, and gave her a hip-bump to make her join in.
An ache to be so fun and free wrapped around her heart and squeezed tight. Instinct, or rather training, dictated that princesses did not wiggle.
And then it hit her. Why on earth not? It clearly brought happiness and laughter, neither of which were bad things.
As if the scales had literally dropped from her eyes, Lia saw her future with a new clarity. The way she approached being a princess was up to her. It didn’t have to be a horrid duty—a burden she had no choice in bearing...something that came with rules and regulations that strangled like the tightest of corsets. These princesses were all smiles and fun. Okay, sure... They were pretend princesses and they were being paid to smile... But the joy they were giving all these children genuinely seemed to be a shared joy. Something she definitely wanted to be a part of.
As they made their way around the rest of the mag
ical kingdom Lia had Grace tell her as many princess stories as she could. Snow White’s stepmother had sent her into the woods to be killed. Sleeping Beauty had been cursed by an evil fairy. Cinderella had been forced into life as a scullery maid by her stepmother. Rapunzel’s mother had given her to a witch as penance for stealing some delicious salad greens she’d craved whilst pregnant.
A few stories in, and Lia was beginning to think she’d not had it quite so bad after all.
When they arrived at the queue for Prince Charming’s carousel and Grace paused for breath, Lia asked Élodie, ‘Don’t any of these stories frighten you?’
Élodie dramatically shook her head, as if the idea was absurd. ‘Nope!’
‘Why not?’ Lia asked, truly interested.
‘Because all the princesses win against the scary things, and the evil people usually shrivel up or disappear in a puff of smoke once they realise good is better than bad.’
‘I thought the handsome princes fixed everything,’ Grace said, giving Oliver an uncharacteristic wink.
Élodie pursed her lips, as if the idea were ridiculous. ‘It’s the princesses who win. They have the brains and the power. They just need to see things from a different angle and when they do...’ She made a swirling motion with the magic wand Oliver had bought her. ‘Everything’s good again.’
‘Girl power. I like it.’ Lia grinned. ‘Shame about the handsome princes.’ She gave Oliver a good-natured elbow in the ribs. ‘It’s always nice to have a helping hand when the world is coming to an end.’
Élodie looked at her, still as serious as if she were working out a long division problem. ‘The princesses and maidens in distress could’ve totally believed what the evil stepmothers and bad fairies and everyone told them—but they didn’t.’ She tapped her heart. ‘They listened to this!’
She leant in to Lia and cupped her hand, as if she wanted to keep a secret from Oliver, but spoke loud enough so that they could all hear.
‘A lot of people think the handsome princes do it all, but even though they’re really nice, and know a lot about medicine, they are usually cuter than they are smart.’
Oliver clutched his hands to his heart. ‘Oof! What a blow to my ego! And here I was thinking I was going to save you all from peril by the end of the day.’
‘Well,’ Élodie conceded, ‘some of the princes have nice horses, and usually a castle, and sometimes a dog. I think every princess would like a dog with fluffy ears, wouldn’t she?’
Oliver choked back a laugh and gave Élodie a good point nod.
‘Next riders on their mounts!’ called the woman in charge of boarding people onto the carousel.
‘You’ve got a great way of looking at the world,’ Grace said, guiding Élodie onto a carousel horse while Lia and Oliver mounted the horses just behind them.
Lia grabbed the reins of her horse and pretended to spur it into a gallop as the carousel began its slow whir into action. ‘Race you to the finish line!’ she challenged Oliver, who immediately ‘spurred’ his own horse into a gallop.
She felt unbelievably happy. This trip to the theme park was meant to be fun, and it was, but she hadn’t expected to learn an important lesson to boot. She was the mistress of her own destiny.
It was all about perspective. If she could tap into the truest part of her heart and realign her perspective...then the rest of her life would pan out to be the happiest.
A few hours later, after they’d dropped Grace and a sleeping Élodie off at their hotel room, they climbed into bed in their sumptuous suite.
‘That was the best day.’
‘The best?’ Oliver let out a low whistle, then pulled her to him. ‘I wonder if there’s any way we could make it better?’
The atmosphere between them instantly shifted from playful to sensual. As Oliver’s bare skin connected with her own, Lia felt electricity pulse through her in a decidedly womanly way. Gone was the little girl princess having innocent fun. In her place was the woman, who was more than happy to show her handsome prince just how much she loved him. So she did.
In the morning, after they’d had some coffee in bed, luxuriating in the rare occurrence of having nothing to do, Lia gave in to a whim and jumped up on the bed and began to bounce. Her hair was flying every which way. She was wearing mismatched pyjamas. There was music playing. It was fun! The type of fun she’d never, ever been allowed to have nor, later in life, let herself have.
‘What are you doing, you madwoman?’ Oliver laughed.
‘Things I never did as a kid.’ She grinned, beckoning for him to join her. ‘It’s your fault,’ she said. ‘You taught me that it was important to be me!’
She bounced until she was high enough to whip herself into a somersault—only to land on her back with an ungainly thunk.
She curled into a protective ball. ‘Ow!’
Oliver’s blood ran cold.
The baby.
He raced to her, all his pent-up fears about losing the chance to become a father surging through him.
‘Don’t move. Did you hurt your stomach? Anything else? Tell me everything.’
She gave a little groan and pushed herself up. ‘I’m fine. Embarrassed at my lack of grace, but fine.’ She moved her head around as proof that her neck was all right, too. She swept her hand along her stomach. ‘We’re both fine.’
Relief was engulfed by something else as he felt the past consume him.
‘What were you thinking?’ he demanded.
Lia took his face in her hands. ‘Hey. I’m okay. It’s okay.’
He shook her hands away and bit out in a tone that sounded foreign even to him, ‘You’ve got to be more careful. Don’t you want our child?’
‘Hey!’ She held up her hands for him to stop—which, mercifully, he did.
They both stared at one another. Hard. Like boxers squaring off with one another before the referee rang the starting bell.
This was a side of Oliver Lia had seen tiny glimpses of, but before his concern had always felt protective, a buffer against the rest of the world, not another set of rules and regulations.
Yes, she’d made a bad decision. But enough to warrant accusing her of not wanting her child...? That was a line he shouldn’t have crossed.
She reminded herself that this month had been one of extremes. That they were strangers compelled to marry because of an accidental pregnancy and the demands of the palace. Both of them had had to deal with childhoods that hadn’t been the happiest. Both of them were facing a future that was very different from whatever either of them had dreamed. But she’d thought they’d found happiness in a new dream. Hadn’t they?
Clinging to what remained of her calm she asked, ‘Oliver? Is there something going on?’
Everything about him bore an air of gravity and stillness that instantly crushed what remained of her self-confidence. A sharp, icy sensation pierced through to her heart when he said, ‘I probably should’ve told you this back when you found out you were pregnant...’
* * *
This was a crossroads and they both knew it. Oliver swept a hand through his hair, wishing he could pull the perfect words out of his brain.
He hadn’t meant to keep this from Lia, but the longer he’d kept it to himself, the more it had gained power over him. No matter how many times he’d reminded himself that this wasn’t the past, and Lia wasn’t his ex, the fear that he might lose this chance at fatherhood had gnawed at his ability to truly open his heart to her.
He tried to force some rational thoughts to the fore.
Lia was her own person. A deeply proud, intelligent, controlled and very private woman who, in the handful of time they’d spent together, he’d seen blossom into a free spirit. And, even though he hated himself for it, there was a part of him that feared the choices she might make without him.
But he loved her, and knew with
every second that ticked past that he was pushing her away. She deserved to know where all this was coming from.
‘I had a girlfriend once...’ he began, his voice ragged with emotion.
Lia nodded for him to continue, but she pulled away from his touch, tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around them, as if cocooning herself from any harm.
‘We met during our internships at Oxford.’
Again, Lia nodded, the wariness in her eyes turning the irises an almost transparent blue.
He forced the words out as neutrally as he could. ‘She fell pregnant, but kept the news to herself. And then...then she “sorted it” without even discussing it with me.’
Lia frowned. ‘What do you mean, she—?’ She stopped herself, her expression making it clear she understood that his girlfriend had terminated the pregnancy. ‘I’m so sorry, Oliver. I’m sure she had her reasons, but still... I can’t imagine how that would’ve felt.’ She reached out to him, then abruptly pulled back. ‘Why would my jumping around remind you of that?’
He was going to have to choose his words carefully. They’d both grown up in strict households with an exacting list of expectations. A regime that hadn’t suited either of them. This wasn’t an attempt to lay down more rules. But he knew that asking her to be more cautious could come across that way.
He wanted her to know he was here for her. That he wanted to be involved. That he wanted to be a part of this journey with her, every step of the way, supporting her and their child. So when he’d seen her whirl around, then land with a thump, sprawled out on the bed, not moving, his worst fears had taken over.
‘I was worried you’d hurt yourself. And the baby.’
Her frown deepened. ‘Oliver, women have been doing all sorts of things whilst pregnant—including dancing and working and probably even having pillow fights—and still having healthy, happy babies. It’s early days, yet. I’m not even showing. We’re still within the three months when most people don’t tell anyone.’
