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Royal Fake

Page 82

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Avery and I were going to roll back the damage years of oppressive history had created and forged a new and uncharted path. Neither of us was intending on getting tattoos across our faces or join a rock band, but we were going to be bolder, brighter and more real than any monarch had before us.

“Seriously?” Avery squealed when I gave her the good news. “Are you seriously, serious?” I love how she blathered.

“Well, we can be a little wild, but um, articulation might be a must,” I teased her, “but yes, I’m seriously serious, my father has agreed that I can be king and you may continue to design for charity since you’re gonna be making buckets of money and the proceeds will be going to homeless kids around the globe.”

“This is fantastic… amazing news.” She threw her arms around me again.

I half thought she’d strip off her clothes and jump me, but luckily she showed a little restraint. Boy was I looking forward to getting her in bed, or on the couch, the shower, the kitchen floor, the patio… just about anywhere. I’d gone so long without Avery, the moment we had some privacy I was going to make love to her until we were just two shriveled up masses of flesh, spent, quivering, and incomprehensible.

“My father saw all the good you did for the kids in New York and just knew you’d give our homeless youth here in Ireland the same love and attention. He’s actually quite excited.”

“Me too.” Ah her sweet face, how I loved her.

“And he can’t believe what you did to Lucy.”

“It wasn’t just me, Georg helped.” She was too modest. She’d turned Lucy from a lackluster nobody to a beautiful woman.

“And… Lucy, of course. As soon as she let herself dream, she was able to find her inner beauty. I’m sure we’ll get her hooked up soon enough.” Oh, Avery’s devilish smile, how I’d missed it.

“Haha, I’m very interested to see how this plays out.” I kissed her neck and picked up the sealed envelope from the table beside us. “So, are you ready?”

“I’m nervous,” she confessed.

“Well, what do you want?” I truly didn’t care.

A son would follow in my footsteps, actually, no. I absolutely did not want a son following in my footsteps. I was lucky I tripped over the right woman and found my footing again, but I certainly didn’t want my son making the mistakes I did. A daughter would be better, someone as beautiful as Avery for me to dote on and lavish. I guess I did care.

“I want a healthy child,” she answered so perfectly diplomatic.

“Oh, come on, you have to have a preference.” I tried to call her out. “Everyone does.” I lied.

“No, I’ve been thinking a lot about it. A son would be like you, handsome and a little naughty perhaps and a daughter would be like me, maybe forced to be quiet and walk steps behind her husband.” Her voice dipped and she seemed very sad.

“We’re working to change all that remember? By the time our daughter is queen, there will be no more of that nonsense to deal with.” I assured her, though I wasn’t exactly sure we could make it true.

“I hope he or she is happy… that’s all.” Her beautiful smile told me she meant that.

“Shall we then?” I trembled to open the envelope.

Avery stilled my hand. “Let’s wait.” She kissed my neck, cheek, and lips. “I think we should find out their gender when we meet him or her.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. She was right, we didn’t need to know the gender of our child, we only needed to know our child and so we put the envelope away and made love, all night… and late into the morning. When we emerged we were one, one force, one nation… and one hell of a strong partnership. I loved Avery with my whole being and spent the rest of the months of her pregnancy just enjoying her.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” I woke up to every morning.

“Not more than I love you,” I gave her back in return.

As my father prepared to enjoy his retirement, I prepared to be king. Coronation day was eventful, Avery was heavenly dressed, Lucy caught the look of more than a few roving eyes and we were bound for a wonderful future.

One day soon after Avery came to me with our contracts. She struggled to sit in a chair with her big belly and stared at me. I thought everything was going so well, so the site of her with the tattered envelope that had been opened and closed so many times, had me worried.

“Honey?” I asked, looking up from my work. “Why do you have that?”

“Do we have a proper marriage license?” Her sweet head cocked to the side.



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