Royally Unexpected: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection Read online

  “He paid your tuition, though, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So he’s thinking about you.”

  “Maybe.”

  Dahlia doesn’t say much after that, and neither do I.

  Maybe I should talk to him and keep him in my life. Maybe I should call him to thank him. It would be the mature thing to do.

  But every time I see him with Olivia, my heart breaks all over again. I’m scared that if I talk to him, hearing his voice will send me back down to the depths of despair.

  It’s easier just to move on. It happened, and it was great, but now it’s done. I’ll always love him, but I can never have him. It’s over.

  35

  Charlie

  My wedding day feels more like a funeral. With my stiff, over-starched ceremonial uniform choking me, and my hair gelled back like a helmet, I feel like a fool. A makeup artist is fussing over my face and neck. She’s covered my visible tattoos with makeup on my chest and wrists—at my father’s instruction, of course. It’s not appropriate, he told her. I don’t have the energy to fight it. It’s just another sign that I can’t be who I want to be anymore.

  “It’s okay. I’m done now,” I say, waving her away.

  “But the photos—”

  “The photos will be fine. I don’t care about the photos.” I get up off the chair and make my way down to the castle lobby. The royal procession is ready and waiting for me. We’ll make our way to the cathedral in the center of Farcliff. The police have closed off the streets, and there are already thousands of people lining the barricades to watch us go by.

  My carriage is ornate, red, and completely over-the-top. Four white horses are ready to pull me to the end of my life as I know it.

  My father hangs out of the carriage waiting behind mine and he waves impatiently. “You’re late!”

  I ignore him. Castle guards on horses line the procession on either side, wearing equally ridiculous uniforms as me. What a fucking rigamarole this is. It’s almost embarrassing.

  Olivia Brundle is somewhere in this circus, wearing a big dress that everyone will gush about. There are about a dozen horse-drawn carriages in a row, and I allow myself to be led to one of them. Neville joins me, along with my two brothers.

  “You look like you’re in a good mood,” Gabe says with a grin. “Your wedding day is supposed to be happy.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not.”

  No one says anything else, and we start moving. The carriage bounces along and I stare out the window, seeing nothing.

  The future is bleak, but this is what being King is all about, apparently. I have to sacrifice my personal happiness for the sake of my people—and the twelve million residents of Grimdale shouldn’t have to move away from their homes. If I can’t be with Elle, I’ll make sure of that, at least.

  The Farcliff Dam Project isn’t signed yet, and I’m making it my mission to kill it, if it’s the last thing I do. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I will. I’m doing it for Elle, and for my mother. It’s what they’d both want.

  There are thousands of people lining the streets, shouting and cheering for us as we ride by. My spirits sink lower. They shouldn’t be here celebrating when I feel like I’m walking the plank. We wind through the streets of Farcliff and the crowds get denser.

  As we near the cathedral, the energy outside grows more frantic. People jostle and push to be near the barricades, throwing their arms toward the royal carriages. Cameras flash. People shout.

  Our procession comes to a stop outside the cathedral. Damon shakes my hand and exits the carriage. Gabe is next. I watch them take their places outside the carriage and I turn to Neville, who’s holding something in his hands.

  “Your Highness…”

  It’s my mother’s ring box.

  “Put that away, Neville. Olivia Brundle isn’t wearing that ring. Never.”

  “I think you should look inside.” He stares at me and thrusts the box toward me.

  I huff. I don’t want to look at that ring right now. That ring represents everything that I’m giving up, everything that I’ve lost. But Neville nods at me, and it’s uncharacteristic for him to be this pushy. I open the box, and my mother’s emerald ring twinkles at me.

  My chest squeezes and I struggle to take a breath.

  “What? Why am I looking at this?”

  Nev clears his throat. “Look underneath.”

  I frown, pulling up the cushion that holds the ring. A small, folded slip of paper is hidden underneath. My mouth goes dry. I stare at Neville, who averts his eyes.

  “Did you know this was in here?”

  “The Queen was very clear that you should only find it on your own. But, seeing as the circumstances are what they are…”

  I unfold the yellowing paper with trembling hands. My breath hitches when I see my mother’s looping handwriting. In the center of the page is a little circular watermark, where the ink has bled, as if she cried as she wrote this.

  My darling Charlie,

  If you’re reading this, it means my worst fears have been realized. I’m sorry that I’m not there to see your wedding day, or my grandchildren, or to see what kind of man you grew to be.

  I want you to know that I love you with all my heart, and I’m so very proud of you. You will be the King that Farcliff needs.

  My hands are shaking so hard I can’t read. My vision is blurring. I take a breath to compose myself.

  In the cabin, at the back of the wine cellar, you’ll find a safe. The combination is your birthday. I’ve hidden evidence of the first attempt on my life, and everything that I believe shows that your father and Talin Thorne are planning to have me murdered.

  I’m causing too much of a fuss with Farcliff politics, I think. You know me—always sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong. Kind of like you.

  Take care of your brothers.

  Love,

  Mom

  I read the letter again, my eyes widening.

  “Sir?” Neville asks. “What does it say?”

  “It says she thought she was going to be murdered,” I whisper. “It says my father and Talin… Thorne?” My eyes widen. “I thought his last name was Smith.”

  Neville’s eyebrows arch. “I always heard Smith. Thorne was…”

  “The name of my governess.”

  My hands tremble as my pulse quickens. I smooth the paper out and snap a picture of it with my phone. It takes me three tries to get a picture that isn’t blurry because my hands are shaking so much. I fold the letter up again, putting it into the ring box and slipping the box into my jacket pocket. I pat it to make sure it’s safe as my eyes swing to look out of the carriage window. My brothers are walking up the cathedral steps. Talin is standing near the door, hands clasped behind his back, and the urge to murder him becomes almost irresistible.

  Cameras flash.

  My blood boils.

  Tabitha Raventhal was right. My mother was murdered, and I know who did it.

  Flying out the door before anyone can open it for me, I stumble toward my father’s carriage at the back of the procession. People clamor for my attention, but I ignore them all.

  Tearing the King’s carriage door off its hinges, I glare at my father. “You set me up.”

  “Get in that cathedral and marry the Brundle girl.”

  “You killed my mother.”

  “Been talking to the Raventhals, have you?”

  “No, I’ve got a letter from my mother—the Queen that you had murdered—that explains it all.” It’s not quite true, I don’t know everything, but I know enough. “And Talin… I know his last name is Thorne. I know he’s related to the governess, and you were behind it all. You set me up to be preyed on by a grown woman. You had me abused. You had my mother killed.”

  My whole body is shaking and my father crouches away from me, eyes wide. He shakes his head. “You have no proof.”

  “I have enough. You think the Kingdom will care that I’m in love with Elle wh
en they hear that you murdered your own wife? That you had your own child set up by a grown woman? That you threatened him? I don’t need you to name me heir, because you’re going to abdicate. Today.”

  “I will do no such—”

  “I have pictures of the letter, and I’ll send them to every news station I can find. You’re going to jail.”

  “No one will believe you.”

  “They will when I tell them about the dam project. How do you think the twelve million residents of Grimdale will react when they hear you killed the one member of the royal family who cared about them and are planning to flood their homes?” I lean in toward him. “They’ll tear you limb from limb, Father, and I’ll let them. They’ll put your head on a stake, and I’ll laugh with them.”

  “Charlie…” My father opens and closes his mouth, running his hands through his hair. His whole face has gone red and he sputters and tries to speak, but nothing comes out.

  “I’m not getting married today. You’re getting up there and abdicating.”

  His lip trembles and he closes his eyes, but he still shakes his head. “I will not—”

  “Either step down right now, or watch everything you built crumble. If you step down, I’ll keep this quiet. If you make a fuss, you’ll welcome the day that you die.”

  For once, the cruel grin is on my lips, not his. He knows that he’ll be dishonored, dethroned, destroyed if a word of this gets out.

  I won’t even need all the proof in my hands. My mother’s letter is enough. A whiff of suspicion is enough.

  And after everything he’s put me through over the past seven months, I’ll enjoy every second of his fall. The King won’t be building that dam, he won’t be pulling the strings in this Kingdom, and most importantly—he won’t be forcing me to marry Olivia fucking Brundle.

  The King just stares at me, defeated, and I walk away.

  I turn to one of the guards flanking our procession. “Get off the horse,” I say, nodding to the tall white mount.

  “Sir?”

  “I said get off the fucking horse.”

  The guard frowns at me, but he obeys.

  I wish I could say riding a horse is like riding a bike—but I’m out of practice, and it shows. I swing my leg over the saddle and almost go tumbling over the other side as I lose my balance. The horse moves nervously underneath me as I settle into the saddle. I pat its neck and make soft noises until the beast settles.

  “What’s this horse’s name?” I ask the guard.

  “Karma, Your Highness.”

  I grin. “Perfect.” I lean down over Karma’s neck. “You’re going to take me to Elle, okay, Karma?”

  The massive white gelding snorts in response. I grin.

  “Charlie! You can’t cancel the wedding now.” My father appears in the carriage window, hanging out of it. His face is twisted in anger.

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want. You’ve got nothing over me. I’m not marrying the Brundle girl, and I’m not building that dam.”

  The King just stares at me and then swears loudly and disappears inside the carriage again. I turn the horse around and start trotting down the street.

  Reporters shout at me from the other side of the barriers. A police barricade blocks the way toward Elle’s house, and I lean down to my horse’s ear.

  “I need you to trust me on this one, okay?” I pat his neck and grip the reins as I take a deep breath. “We’re getting out of here, and we’re finding my woman.”

  The horse snorts again. I kick my heels in and we take off toward the barricade. We start at a slow trot, and I squeeze my legs against Karma again. My heart thumps as the barricade approaches. I haven’t ridden a horse since I was a kid, but instinct takes over.

  Karma speeds up, and I urge him faster and faster. The barricade comes rushing at us, and my heart is in my throat. It looms closer as people scream around us. When we’re only a few feet away from it, I think I’ve made a mistake.

  A terrible, terrible mistake.

  We’re going to crash into it. I’m going to break my neck.

  But Karma knows what to do. He launches himself into the air and we clear the barricade effortlessly. Well, Karma clears it effortlessly—I cling on for dear life. We land on the other side, and I pull the reins up to slow him down, gulping down panicked breaths as my heart tries to run away from me. Karma is excited. The horse rears up on its hind legs, kicking and neighing as I do my best to stay in the saddle.

  I grip Karma with everything I’ve got, praying that I don’t fall on my ass. With my horse on its hind legs, I smile at the flashing cameras.

  Put this on the front of your stupid newspapers.

  “Come on, Karma. Take me to my love. Hiyah!”

  We take off at a hard gallop down the streets. Karma doesn’t hesitate. He’s fast and powerful, and he doesn’t break stride even once.

  This is better than a motorcycle. It’s more exhilarating than anything I’ve ever done. I can hear cars starting behind me, and I know I’m being followed.

  I don’t care. Let them follow. Let them see what their new King really cares about.

  We gallop down the streets, jumping another barricade and bringing traffic to a standstill. A crowd forms behind me, following as best they can as I make my way toward the little bungalow on the edge of Grimdale that I’ve come to love.

  To Elle.

  To my love.

  I ride Karma with a smile on my face, with my heart singing and my soul happy. There are a million things for me to find out, I have my father to deal with and Olivia to break up with… but none of that matters.

  The only thing that matters is Elle.

  My steed is covered in a thin coat of sweat by the time we get to Elle’s house. I dismount and stumble, almost falling flat on my face before catching myself at the last moment. The front door flies open and a very pregnant, very beautiful Elle appears in the doorway.

  She steals my breath away. I haven’t seen her in months, and my heart almost explodes from happiness.

  “What in the…?” She has one hand on her stomach and the other on her forehead. “What are you doing here?”

  I falter as I walk toward her, Karma panting behind me.

  “Elle,” I say, falling to my knees. “Marry me.”

  36

  Elle

  I think I’m having another weird pregnancy dream.

  The Crown Prince of Farcliff just galloped into my front yard on a massive white horse, fell to his knees and proposed.

  Bringing my hand to the opposite underarm, I pinch my skin—hard. It has to be a dream. There’s no other explanation.

  But pain shoots through my skin and I don’t wake up.

  The Prince is panting. His horse whinnies and snorts behind him, and then wanders up and nuzzles Charlie’s ear. Charlie’s still staring up at me, arms outstretched.

  “Well? What do you say, Elle… make me the happiest man in Farcliff.”

  “I… I thought you were marrying another woman.”

  “No, I’m not. Not anymore.”

  “What about your brothers? The Kingdom? Your duty?”

  “I found a way, Elle. It’s all going to be okay.” He stands up and cups my face in his hands. “Stop torturing me and tell me you’ll be my wife. Please. It’s killing me. I don’t want anyone else, I only want you. These past seven months have been the worst months of my life, Elle. I can’t live without you.”

  “What about the King? What about the throne?”

  “Elle,” he says, laughing almost maniacally. “Listen to me. It’s over. It’s fine. The throne is mine… and yours, if you’ll have me.”

  “This isn’t a joke?”

  Tears are streaming down both our faces and he shakes his head. My whole body trembles as I try to make sense of what’s happening. He brings his forehead to mine and holds me.

  “This is the furthest thing from a joke. I love you more than anyone or anything else in the world. I can’t imagine my life without
you and our child at my side. I want you to rule Farcliff with me, to be the mother of my children and the Queen of this Kingdom. Marry me, please. Don’t make me beg.”

  His words finally start to sink in. I hear the thumping of feet and honking of horns in the distance, but all I can see is Charlie.

  My lips tug at the corners. “I don’t know, I kind of like it when you beg.”

  Charlie’s chest heaves up and down as he gulps down another breath. I run my fingers over his cheek. He sighs, closing his eyes and leaning into my touch.

  “What about Olivia?” I ask in a whisper.

  “I never wanted her. Never touched her. My father just wanted me to marry her for political reasons, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Elle, you’re not listening to me. Nothing matters except you.”

  “You’re serious?” My voice cracks, and I run my fingers into his hair.

  “Deadly serious.”

  “You really want to marry me?”

  “With every fiber of my soul.”

  My heart thumps. My cheeks are soaked. I bite my lip and take a deep breath. “For real?”

  His face splits into a laugh and the Prince lifts me up over his head, spinning me in a slow circle. “Yes, Elle. Yes!”

  Vaguely, at the back of my mind, I see flashes from a dozen cameras and I hear voices and shouts getting nearer.

  It doesn’t matter.

  Charlie puts me back on my feet and crushes his lips to mine. His hand drifts over my stomach and his lips tangle with mine. With one hand cupping my cheek, and the other on my stomach, Charlie leans his forehead against mine and sighs.

  Happiness bubbles up inside me and I can’t hold back my laughter. I smile, I laugh, I cry. I intertwine my fingers with his on my stomach and lean into him as my heart explodes.

  Charlie kisses me again and again, holding me close as if he’s afraid of letting me go. Dahlia appears at the door and starts swatting reporters back so that we have a bit of space on the front stoop of my run-down Grimdale home.