Royal Mistake #6 Page 10

  At the word queen, all of the color leaves her face. “Andrew, I’m not—”

  “You are,” I say. “You are…exactly as you should be. Trust in that, Victoria. If you can’t trust me, trust in the fact that you were born to be here. Montovia is better when you are here.”

  “I’ll try,” she says.

  “Besides,” I say, trying to lighten my tone. “You can’t miss the Salt Festival. It is our biggest celebration of the year. You’d be a fool to miss it. And you, Victoria, are not a fool.” With everything going on, I’d nearly forgotten about it until Leopold mentioned it a few minutes ago. The Salt Festival—named for the salt mines that were once Montovia’s primary source of income, but known simply as ‘The Festival’ to most of our citizens—lasts for several days, filling our capital city with celebration and energy.

  That almost earns me another partial smile. “I’ll think about it.”

  I let my thumb slide over her ring one more time before rising to my feet. “Please do. You won’t regret it.”

  I continue to pull on the pieces of my suit, and Victoria grabs her own clothes. Once we’re dressed, I go over to her and pull her into my arms one more time. I kiss her passionately, and she slides her arms around my neck and kisses me right back.

  “I’d sooner die unwed than marry anyone else,” I say.

  She doesn’t respond, only kisses me once more.

  When I can finally bear to pull away from her, I say, “We should return to the palace.” Part of me wants to get a promise from her, an assurance that she won’t leave the moment my back is turned, but I have to trust her. I’ve asked her to trust me, after all.

  When we step into the cottage’s parlor, I’m surprised to see Leopold and Elle still sitting on the small sofa. In fact, Doctor Parker is sitting on Leopold’s lap, laughing as my brother kisses her neck.

  It takes them a moment to notice us. When they do, my brother grins at me.

  “Took you long enough to get dressed,” he says. “We figured if you two were going for another round, we might as well enjoy ourselves while we waited.”

  Elle’s cheeks bloom pink as she scrambles to her feet. “Ignore him,” she says. She goes over to Victoria, extending her arms. Victoria leans into the hug, wrapping her arms around her friend.

  Eleanor Parker is a lot larger than she was the last time I saw her. She’s still sporting a glow, but whether that’s due to her condition or something else, I couldn’t say—in truth, I’ve never seen any couple as happy as my brother and Elle seem to be.

  My eyes shift back to Victoria. We have a chance at that sort of happiness—assuming I can solve this predicament we’ve found ourselves in. While the two women chat and catch up, I turn back to my brother.

  “So you’ve decided to join us for breakfast after all?” I say.

  “I decided it was good for me to exercise some of that princely responsibility you and Father are always on about,” he says, still grinning. “I need all the practice at responsibility I can get before the little one gets here.” He shoots one more glance at the women before stepping closer to me. His expression sobers slightly. “Besides, I’m not letting you face that jackass King Max alone. He didn’t really threaten war, did he?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” I rub the back of my neck. “I think I talked him down from anything that extreme, but he’s still angling for a royal wedding for his daughter. And he’s still insisting that we hand over rights to the Amhurst Valley for the offense we’ve caused him—”

  “That fucking bastard is trying to take advantage of you,” Leopold says.

  “You don’t think I realize that?” I say. “He’s trying to use my debt to him as leverage. I know I fucked up that night in Prague, but that in no way entitles him to the valley. Or to a wedding for his daughter. Poor Justine doesn’t even want any of this. That man is…” I stop myself before I say things about our neighboring monarch that I might come to regret.

  Leopold, on the other hand, has no such qualms. “He’s a fucking rat, that’s what he is. His country will be better off when he’s dead.”

  “You can’t just say things like—”

  “I can. I’m not afraid of him. And neither should you be. This is all over a fucking poker game. It’s not like you’ve broken any international laws or treaties or anything. This is fucking ridiculous, that’s what this is.”

  “I know,” I say. And that’s exactly why I won’t let it keep Victoria and me apart.

  “He’s not interested in compensation. He’s trying to cheat you. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if his son cheated in that poker game. The entire family is completely corrupt.”

  “What if Prince Reginald did cheat you?” I didn’t realize the women walked over to us, but Victoria is suddenly at my elbow. The look in her eyes echoes her question. “Is there a way to prove it?”

  “Only if he admitted it himself,” I say, shaking my head. “And there’s no way that will ever happen.”

  “But there has to be some dirt on him,” says Elle. “If he’s as shady as you say, then he’s probably done a few things he’s trying to hide.”

  “She has a point,” Leopold says. “He’s trying to use your one stupid mistake to try and blackmail you. But fuck, he’s probably done something far, far worse. Many things.”

  “Even if he has,” I say, “he’ll never admit it. Rest assured, he’s buried any indiscretions—”

  “He’s here in the palace,” my brother reminds me. “We have the advantage here. I’m sure we can find something—”

  “And you forget who you have on your side,” Elle says, beaming. “Victoria’s been a celebrity reporter for years—and she’s spent a lot of that time focusing on the royals. If anyone can dig up dirt, it’s her.”

  I glance at Victoria, who looks uncertain. “This isn’t exactly the sort of reporting I normally do—”

  “And we know he’s fond of gambling. And drinking,” Leopold says, rubbing his chin. “Perhaps I can tempt him into a game—”

  “Reginald might have questionable ethics, but he’s not a fool,” I remind him. “He knows better than to engage in that sort of activity while he’s a guest—”

  “Are you kidding?” my brother says. “He’s as cocky as they come. And he thinks he has you under his thumb, which will make him careless.”

  “That doesn’t matter at this point,” I say. “I made the mistake, and I must—”

  “And you shouldn’t have to pay for one night of stupidity by marrying that bastard’s sister. Or by signing over the Amhurst Valley,” Leopold says. “Honestly, the timing is perfect. Think about it—the Festival starts in three days. It’s the biggest party Montovia has all year. Alcohol is flowing freely in the streets. Everyone’s wearing masks. If anyone in this country is going to do something shady, it’s then.”

  I shake my head, exasperated. I know my brother means well, but if he thinks Prince Reginald is foolish enough to engage in any sort of debauchery on Montovian soil, while his father is deep in negotiations in which he firmly believes he has the upper hand…well, perhaps it is a good thing that my brother usually stays out of diplomatic matters.

  When I glance over at Victoria, though, I see something in her eyes I didn’t before—something that looks almost like hope.

  “What exactly are you proposing?” I ask Leopold. “That we invite him to the festival and hope he does something we can use against him? I’d prefer not to resort to blackmail—”

  “Maybe we can convince him to have another game of poker,” Leopold says with a shrug. “Or yes, maybe we can catch him doing something he doesn’t want people to see or know. I don’t know yet—but trust me, we’ll think of something.”

  “This is a ridiculous way to handle an international disagreement—”

  “This whole thing is ridiculous,” Victoria says, suddenly speaking up. “I almost can’t believe I’m saying this, but Leo is right—there has to be a way to use Reginald’s own questionable morality agai
nst him. And I want to help.”

  I turn fully to face her. Part of me wants to continue arguing—I still believe this is a foolish idea—but the other part of me is inspired to hear her agree to such absurdity for the sake of us—and Montovia.

  “Do you have an idea?” I ask her.

  “Not yet. But I will. We will.” Her eyes shine up at me. “This whole time, you’ve insisted on fighting this battle by yourself. But this is about us. About everyone in this country. And I want to help. It’s my battle too.”

  I want to yank her against me and kiss her, but I won’t—not in front of my brother and Elle. Still, I feel myself fighting a smile as I turn back to the others.

  “I’m still going to try and solve this in a more diplomatic way,” I say. “We have three days until the Festival, and I’m sure I will be spending most of it in meetings with Maximilian.”

  “If you come to an agreement in that time, then great,” Leopold says. “But if you don’t, we’ll find some other way. Victoria is right, Brother—this isn’t just your fight.”

  I look back over at Victoria, and the way she smiles up at me makes my whole body feel light.

  “You’re right,” I say. “It isn’t.”

  Victoria

  It almost seems like this sliver of hope is too much to ask for, but I’ll take what I can get, at least for the moment.

  What I will not do, however, is lead Prince Reginald into some sort of trap. Particularly not when the three other people in the room are looking at me as some sort of savior or something. I might be a celebrity reporter, but only the sleaziest of the sleazy try to concoct the sort of game Leo and Elle are suggesting.

  There has to be a better way.

  Andrew and Leo walk a few steps ahead of Elle and me as we head back to the palace.

  Elle has her arms crossed over her chest, her hands on her bare upper arms. “I can’t believe how cold it is here already. I didn’t even think about needing a coat. I bet you didn’t, either.”

  “No, not really.” I force a smile. Being around the pregnant woman is hard enough, but knowing she’s carrying the future heir to the throne of Montovia… It’s a little hard to handle. But I put on a brave facade, hiding the torment I’m feeling at knowing that is one gift I will never be able to give Montovia, even if I somehow am able to marry Andrew.

  “You know, I’ve never seen snow before. Leo says it usually snows before the Festival, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to this year.” She glances up toward the sky as we walk along the path back to the palace. “I suppose if it does, we’ll both need to find coats.”

  “I suppose we will.” We walk in silence for a few more steps—the men are too far ahead for me to hear what they’re discussing. I can only hope it isn’t some sort of idiotic scheme to try to trap Reginald. They have to know the man is too smart to fall for any sort of juvenile tricks like that.

  “We went back to South America.” Elle interrupts my thoughts. “Leo wanted to get out of here for a little while. He suggested the Caribbean, but I stupidly insisted we go and check on my brother and the clinic.”

  “You weren’t stupid. There was no way you could have known—”

  “No, I know that. But I was the one who told Leo to leave his phone at home. I’m just so sick of him being interrupted all the time.” She rubs at the tops of her arms again. “Once King Edmund is well—once he’s back at home and everything has gone back to normal—I think…” She drops her voice so that there’s no way either of the men can hear. “I think we’re going to get out of here. Raise our baby on our own, you know? I’m sure Queen Penelope will be upset about it, but I really feel like I don’t need the Montovian royalty breathing down my neck. And it isn’t like this little person is going to need that to be part of his life.”

  My cheeks burn, and I’m sure I’m not the one who should be saying anything about my situation to her. But it is my situation, and I’d like to have at least a little bit of control over the story. I suppose it’s the reporter in me, but I want to tell my side of things on my terms.

  I glance over at her, giving her the smallest of smiles. “You might want to rethink that decision, Elle.”

  “Why?” Her brows knit together a bit. “Leo’s been under the thumb of his father—and Andrew—long enough, don’t you think? And Leo said Andrew is still giving him grief. He said Andrew was giving him shit about not using his office this morning—”

  “It’s not about Andrew. Or King Edmund.” I let out a long breath before I turn to look at her again. “I probably shouldn’t be the one telling you this.”

  She lifts a brow. “Oh, but now you have to tell me.” She grins. “What is it? You have some good dirt on Andrew—?”

  “I can’t have children.” There, I said it out loud. It’s not a fact I’ve liked to admit to even myself over the past several years, but something about saying it makes me feel just the tiniest bit lighter.

  “You…what?”

  I nod. “I can’t have children. So—”

  “Oh, I guarantee Andrew will have you see the best fertility specialists in the world, Victoria. I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that.” She smiles. “A friend of mine from medical school became a fertility specialist. I’ll be glad to email her and ask if she has any recommendations—”

  “I don’t have the parts anymore, so there’s really no point in seeing a doctor about it. Our only hope for a child of our own would be through using a surrogate. And I can only imagine how the royal family would feel about that. It has scandal written all over it.”

  “Oh.” She frowns, her brow furrowing even more. “Maybe you can adopt, then.”

  I shake my head. “We could do that. But that child wouldn’t be a legitimate heir. The laws of succession in Montovia are very clear about that. It has to be a genetic heir.”

  She nods and is silent for a moment. She finally drops her hands to her swollen belly. “Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “The Montovian law of succession says that the first born child is the rightful heir to the throne. If Andrew doesn’t have children, the next in line is the second-born child. Next in line after that are the second-born child’s genetic offspring.”

  “Holy. Fuck.” Elle’s eyes grow impossibly wide. “Leo doesn’t know, does he? He’s going to freak the fuck out when he finds out.” She shakes her head, almost as though she doesn’t believe what I’ve just told her. “I’m pregnant with a future king or queen. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

  My head bobs slightly, and I turn my attention back to the path in front of us. We’re almost to the palace now. I should warn her not to tell Leo—that the news should probably come from Andrew or King Edmund.

  “I can’t tell him. I…I can’t. This kind of thing needs to come from his family. Right?”

  I nod again, glad she figured that out for herself.

  We follow the men through the palace and into one of the small dining rooms. William is sitting at the table already, fiddling with his phone.

  He stands as soon as we enter the room. “It took you long enough.” He turns his gaze to Leo, shaking his head. “Way to run off in the nick of time, Brother. You missed out on all the fun.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Leo grins. “Though I hear Father has made it through surgery and is expected to make a full recovery.”

  “Full might be a bit generous.” Andrew frowns as he takes his seat at the head of the table, motioning for everyone else to find a seat. Elle and I sit at the other end of the table across from each other, while Leo and William each take a seat on either side of Andrew.

  Andrew turns his gaze to William. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me this morning, William. Leo has also agreed to discuss our tactics for dealing with King Maximilian and Reginald.”

  William only lifts a brow in Leo’s direction.

  Leo raises his palms to William, almost like he’s surrendering. “What? I was the one who caused this
situation, so shouldn’t I be the one to get us out? I was the one who took Andrew to Prague.”

  William’s brow lifts even further and he shakes his head.

  Leo rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll listen and give my opinion only when it’s asked for.” He splays his palms on the table. “But I should remind you, William, that I am your elder brother. And as such—”

  Andrew interrupts. “As such, nothing. Come, Leopold, you can’t actually expect anyone…” His voice trails off. “That is to say—”

  “No, I get it,” Leopold interrupts. “It’s as though I’m a child who’s been given a seat at the grownup table for the first time, is that it? My ideas will be immature and unreasonable, so why even bother with Leopold, right?” His gaze darts between his two brothers.

  Andrew says nothing. His expression betrays almost nothing of what is going on in his head, either. He turns to William. “Speaking of brothers, where is Nicholas? He, too, should be in this meeting and should be here eating with us this morning.”

  “I believe he is at the hospital with Mother. You asked that one of us remain with her at all times, did you not?”

  “Ah, yes, I suppose I did.” Andrew frowns as a server brings out a covered tray for each of the brothers. He turns to the man. “Why are we having a formal breakfast?”

  The man bows and steps away after taking the cover off the tray. “Forgive me, Your Highness. It is customary when there are royal guests in the palace to have a formal service at every meal—”

  “Yes, yes.” Andrew waves the man away with a shooing motion. He turns back to William. “And where is Sophia? I’ll need her this afternoon to keep an eye on…” His voice trails off as his eyes meet mine. “Never mind. I trust I have that situation controlled.”

  I say nothing and don’t give him any indication that I even understand what he’s saying. I haven’t made up my mind yet. I still might leave, particularly if the brothers try to suck me into some stupid stunt meant to bring down a powerful king and his son.

  Andrew frowns but begins eating his breakfast. Leo and William do the same.