The Prince's Scandalous Wedding Vow
A new life here.
A new normal.
Be happy...eventually.
The words echoed in her head. She raised a hand to her face, fingertips pressing against her forehead where pain throbbed. She didn’t want a new normal, and she didn’t want a new home, but none of that seemed to matter, and honestly, she had no one to blame but herself. She’d lost her head on Khronos. She’d thrown caution to the wind. They’d made love a dozen times. Risks had consequences and the consequence was that they’d created a new life.
She dropped her hand, looked up at him. “Does anyone even know about me?”
“They know you rescued me after my...accident. They know you saved my life, and they believe you’re here to be thanked by my parents.”
She frowned as a troubling thought came to her. “What about the pregnancy? Does anyone know about that?”
“No. It’s a closely guarded secret. Only four people know you are pregnant: our parents and the doctor who performed the ultrasound, and I’m determined that no one else know, not until we choose to make an announcement, most likely once you are well into your second trimester.”
“Who is we? The palace, or you and me?”
“It will be up to us, I promise.”
Up to us. Us.
“Don’t you think I should meet both of your parents before I say yes?” she asked, taking a deep breath. “I realize your father is the king, but he will be the grandfather of my child. I want to be sure he approves of...me.” Us.
Alexander hesitated. “My father can be difficult.”
“Is that your way of saying I should lower my expectations?”
He smiled crookedly. “You’re quite good at subtext.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEY WERE TO have dinner in his tower library that night. Alexander had given his staff instructions to set a proper table and provide a proper meal with a proper dessert, and since he had a few minutes before dinner, he stopped by his father’s room.
The king’s butler opened the door to Alexander. “He’s awake,” the butler said. “But he’s not in the best of tempers.”
“Thank you,” Alexander replied, grateful, as forewarned was forearmed.
King Bruno was in bed already, and he watched Alexander approach his bed from beneath heavy lids. “You’ve cleaned up. Who are you trying to impress tonight?”
“I’m having dinner with Josephine.”
The king’s jaw tightened, his expression closing. When his father said nothing else, Alexander added, “I intend to present her to you tomorrow, Father.”
“I’d prefer not.”
“I’m aware of that, but she doesn’t need to be, and then after I introduce you, I’m moving her into the palace. It will be a short meeting. You won’t have to do much—just nod and I’ll whisk her out and it will be over.”
“I heard that you and Damian had a falling-out. I hope it’s not true.”
His father had always been more interested in Damian than him. “We’re fine.”
“Why hasn’t he come around, then?”
“I wondered the same thing.”
“He’s always been very loyal to me.”
“Just as I have, Father.”
But Bruno had no response to that, choosing to close his eyes, ending the conversation.
* * *
In the tower library, iron-and-glass wall sconces had been lit so that the room glowed with red and gold light. A ruby brocade cloth covered the round dining table and the stemware had ruby-colored crystal stems. The walls of books added to the richness, and Josephine found herself relaxing as they were presented with their second course.
“You will meet my father tomorrow before lunch,” Alexander said. “I cannot predict how he will behave.”
“You have a difficult relationship?”
“It’s been tense since I was a very young boy.”
“Is he that hard to please?”
“He’s quite pleased with my mother.”
“How have you disappointed him?”
“I’m too cerebral. He would have preferred a son more like my cousin, Damian. Damian is physical, shrewd, and aggressive. My father admires a man who will lay down the law and command.”
“How are you not commanding?”
Alexander smiled, and then his smile faded. “Josephine, we might never be who we were on Khronos, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy and that we can’t create a strong and loving family for this child and any others we choose to have.”
“Would you want more?”
“I would like more.”
“Because you need an heir and a spare?”
“Because I was an only child and was often lonely. I would love my son or daughter to have siblings, brothers and sisters to play with. Why grow up in a castle if you have no one to chase you up and down stairwells, or play hide-and-seek with in the dungeon?”
She swallowed hard, unaccountably moved by his words. “Your nannies didn’t play with you?”
“How can a nanny ever be a substitute for a brother? Nannies don’t whisper secrets and share dreams.”
Josephine hated the lump filling her throat. She didn’t want to care for him; she didn’t want to feel connected, and yet his words made her heart ache. She understood better than he knew. She had grown up alone and lonely. She had grown up wishing for a playmate, someone to talk to late at night, someone to wake up with in the morning, someone who would go on an adventure with her. Instead, she’d spent her life entertaining herself. She’d spent her childhood trying to pretend she didn’t need anyone.
“You want our child but you don’t want me,” she said after a moment. “I think that is the most difficult part for me. And maybe it sounds selfish—”
“But I do want you. I want you very much. I locked you here, trapping you in my home, to keep you from leaving.”
“To keep your unborn child here.”
“To keep you here, Josephine.” He signaled for the table steward to leave, and once the door closed, leaving the two of them alone, he said, “I still don’t have all of my memory. It hasn’t completely returned,” he added. “It’s incomplete, and there are areas of my life that still have...blanks. I know things because people have told me things, but I have no memory of them.”
“Such as?”
“The trip with my friends on the yacht.”
“Is that all?”
“The first day or two on Khronos.”
“You were recovering from an injury. I’m not surprised you’re having difficulty with those memories.”
“But I was on the yacht for a week before the accident. That’s essentially nine days I don’t remember, plus the week where I had amnesia.”
“What do the doctors say?”
“I haven’t told them.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m worried it would get back to my mother, and she has enough to deal with at the moment.”
“Is there more I don’t know?”
“My father is dying,” he said bluntly. “He has lung cancer. It’s stage four now. The radiation and chemotherapy have stopped. There is no more prolonging his life. The only thing that can be done is to try to make him as comfortable as possible—and that’s not working.”
“And this is why you keep saying we’re running out of time. Because you literally are running out of time.”
He nodded. “I want my father there when we marry...if humanly possible.”
“But why didn’t you just tell me? I would have better understood the pressure and urgency.”
“Because this is how families like mine operate. We’re royals. We maintain facades. We keep up appearances. We’re not supposed to have problems. We’re not supposed to struggle. And to accomplish that, we suppress anything that is remotely probl
ematic—”
“Like emotions?”
His lips curved wryly. “Indeed, emotions are terribly dangerous.”
“I think living without emotions is dangerous.”
“Says the woman who loves volcanoes and lava.”
“Don’t forget plumes of ash.”
“How could I?” He hesitated, gathering his thoughts. “We don’t do dramatic here. And we don’t have volatility in the palace. It’s all very contained and controlled.”