Claiming His Secret Royal Heir

Hell, even he had almost believed it. Almost.

‘You did a great job. And I appreciate that you included me in your spin.’

‘It wasn’t spin. Everything I said about you was true—you have worked incredibly hard these past two years, you have instigated all the changes I outlined, and you do have Lycander’s future at heart.’

The words washed over him like cold, dirty water—if the people of Lycander knew where the blame for Axel’s death lay they would repudiate him without compunction, and they would be right to do so. But he didn’t want these thoughts today—not on his first outing with Amil.

He glanced down at Amil, secure now in his buggy, dressed in a jaunty striped top and dungarees, a sun hat perched on his head, a toy cat clasped firmly in one hand.

‘Amamamamam...ma.’ Chubby legs kicked and he wriggled in a clear instruction for them to move on.

Sunita smiled down at her son. ‘I think he wants to get going—he wants to see all the animal hedges. They seem to utterly fascinate him.’

As they wandered through the lush gardens that abounded with shades of green tranquillity seemed to be carried on the breeze that came from the Arabian Sea, and for a moment it was almost possible to pretend they were an ordinary family out for the day.

Sunita came to a halt near a topiary hedge, one of many clipped into the shape of animals. ‘For some reason this is his favourite—I can’t work out why.’

Frederick studied it. ‘I’m not sure I can even work out what it is. I spotted the giraffe and the elephant and the ox-drawn cart, but this one flummoxes me.’

Sunita gave a sudden gurgle of laughter. ‘I know what Amil thinks it is. Amil, sweetheart, tell Mu—Tell us what the animal does.’

The little boy beamed and made a ‘raaaah’ noise.

Frederick felt his heart turn over in his chest. Without thought he hunkered down next to Amil and clapped. ‘Clever boy. The tiger goes “rah”.’

‘Raaah!’ Amil agreed.

And here it came again—the paralysis, the fear that he would mess this up. He’d never managed any other relationship with even a sliver of success. Why would this be different?

Rising to his feet, he gestured around the garden. ‘This is a beautiful place.’

‘I used to come here as a child,’ Sunita said. ‘It’s one of my earliest memories. I loved the flower clock.’

She pressed her lips together, as if she regretted the words, and Frederick frowned. Her publicity blurb skated over her childhood, chose to focus instead on her life after she’d embarked on her career. Almost as if she had written her early years out of her life history...

‘Come on,’ she said hurriedly. ‘This morning isn’t about my childhood. It’s about Amil’s—let’s go to the Old Woman’s Shoe.’

Five minutes later Frederick stared at the shoe—actually an enormous replica of a boot. As landmarks went, it seemed somewhat bizarre—especially when the words of the nursery rhyme filtered back to him.

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.

She had so many children she didn’t know what to do.

She gave them broth without any bread,

Then whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed.

‘Isn’t this a slightly odd thing to put in a c

hildren’s playground?’

‘Yes. But I loved it—I used to climb it and it made me feel lucky. It was a way to count my blessings. At least I didn’t live with a horrible old woman who starved me and beat me!’

At least. There had been a wealth of memory in those syllables, and for a daft moment he had the urge to put his arm around her and pull her into the comfort of a hug.

As if realising she had given away more than she had wanted, she hastened on. ‘Anyway, I looked up the rhyme recently and it turns out it probably has political rather than literal connotations. But enough talk. This is about you and Amil. Do you want to take Amil into the shoe? I’ll wait here with the buggy.’

The suggestion came out of nowhere, ambushed him, and once again his body froze into immobility even as his brain turned him into a gibbering wreck.