“Lady Malerie, that’s enough,” Elle snaps, her voice commanding and regal. “Your old feuds have no bearing here. The evidence doesn’t point to the Raventhals.”
Tension fills the air, and Malerie finally huffs and leaves the room.
Then, it’s Tabitha Raventhal’s turn to face us.
Exhaustion is settling into my bones. I can’t take much more of this. I already know how Mrs. Raventhal feels about me, and right now, I don’t care. I just want Dahlia to be beside me—safe, alive, and well.
“Dahlia, it’s time to go back to your own room,” Mrs. Raventhal says. She throws me a dirty stare and turns her nose up at me. “You shouldn’t be here with him.”
Dahlia squeezes my hand and straightens up in her wheelchair. Her chin juts out defiantly, and my love for her spreads through my chest.
“No.”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Raventhal says, arching an eyebrow.
“I said no. When I was a kid, you could ship me off to the mountains. I didn’t have a say. You could fill my head with ideas that I was cursed, and that my life was doomed. But I’m not a kid anymore. This is the man I love, Mother.” Her cheeks are bright red, and her shoulders are thrown back. “I love Damon Farcliff.”
She glances at me and her eyes shine.
Turning back to her mother, Dahlia takes a deep breath.
“He’s the man I want to marry, and he’s the father of my child. I’m not leaving him just because you don’t like his aunt. You and Malerie need to get over yourselves. Your stupid feud is hurting more people than just you two.”
Mrs. Raventhal’s mouth drops open. “I don’t—”
“I don’t care what you have to say,” Dahlia interrupts. “You don’t get to dictate what I do.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Congratulations. I’m going to be a mother, too, and I’ll get to decide what’s best for my baby—not you. Being with the baby’s father is better than being shipped off to the middle of nowhere and being told that you’re broken.”
“Dahlia…” Her father tries to interject, but Dahlia puts her hand up.
“I understand your reasons for doing it, and I have no anger toward you—but it’s time for me to be my own person. That means being with the man I love. If you want to be part of my life—and part of my baby’s life—then you’re going to have to deal with it.”
Mr. Raventhal sighs. “I’ll get the nurse to bring another bed in here.”
“Harry, you can’t let her stay!” Mrs. Raventhal exclaims, turning her anger to her husband.
“I can and I will,” he retorts, before his voice softens. “Darling, she’s right. This anger is only hurting us and the people we love. Let her be happy.”
Mrs. Raventhal’s lip trembles. Finally, she nods weakly.
Dahlia’s father leads his wife out of the room, throwing the two of us one more glance. He gives his daughter a soft smile.
“I’m not leaving,” Dahlia says to her father, even though he never asked her to. Her mouth is set in a resolute line. A smile tugs at my lips. I love this girl more than anything in the world.
Her father sighs and turns his eyes to me. “You sure you can deal with her? Take it from someone who’s spent the past thirty years with her mother—it’s not going to change.”
I grin. “I will gladly deal with her for thirty years and more.”
Dahlia lays her head on my arm again. We stay there together, unmoving. It takes a few minutes for them to set up another bed and get Dahlia into it, but when they do, she’s close enough to touch. She reaches her hand over to my bed and intertwines her fingers in mine.
Nurses check on us and family members fuss over us. When they finally leave, I turn to look at Dahlia.
“I thought you were gone.”
“Is that why you went back to the warehouse?”
“You don’t want to be with me, Dahlia,” I say weakly. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve just been hurting the people around me.”
“You haven’t hurt me.”
“I did. I brought you to the castle and look at what happened.”
“You didn’t bring me anywhere. I went of my own free will.” She smiles at me and shakes her head. “I don’t even think your Aunt Malerie did it on purpose.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“I don’t know. I was watching her just now… She really cares about you. And so do I.”
“You’ll forgive her? Just like that?”
Dahlia takes a deep breath and stares at me for a moment, considering the question. Then, she nods. “Yeah.”
“How? How do you forgive so easily?”
“Forgiveness is a choice.” She smiles at me and squeezes my hand. “You have to give yourself permission to forgive and be forgiven.”
I know she’s talking about my mother. I know she’s talking about me forgiving myself. She makes it sound so easy, but…
…what if it was?
What if I stopped fighting it, and I just let go of the pain? What if I let go of the darkness?
“You have to stop fighting,” Dahlia says softly. “None of what has happened was your fault—not with your mother, or with me.”
I grimace, turning my head to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah.”
“I mean it.”
I sigh. Her words start to sink in, but I wonder if I’ll ever truly believe them.
But then, Dahlia squeezes my hand and a wave of calm washes over me.
“You have to forgive yourself, Damon. Otherwise you’ll never find peace.”
The only time in my life that I haven’t been plagued by darkness has been when I’m with Dahlia. What if she’s right? What if it is just as easy as deciding to accept forgiveness?
“I don’t know how to forgive myself,” I whisper.
Her hand is warm, and it fits perfectly into mine. She lets out a long breath. “You just decide to do it one day. You hold on to anger and pain until it feels like it’s part of you, and then at one point you just… let it go.”
Dahlia turns her head toward me and sighs. “I think the curse was my way of holding onto my anger and pain. I know, now, that being shipped off to the Rockies messed me up a little. Not knowing who I am…” She sighs. “…I don’t think my parents are bad people, but they made bad decisions. My whole life, I was worried about doing things that would upset my mother. Now I know that I need to live my life without being crippled by the thought of how she’ll react. I need to do what’s best for me, and this baby—and you.”
She smiles at me. “You showed me that the curse doesn’t exist. I make choices, and they shape my life—just like everyone else.”
“So, just go ahead and let it go, huh? Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Dahlia stares at me and a smile stretches across her lips.
“You don’t have a Russian quote for me? Now seems like the perfect time.”
Dahlia thinks for a moment, chewing her lip and staring at the wall behind me.
“Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.” She glances at me. “Don’t let it be for nothing, Damon.”
“I thought you were going to say something about the power of love and forgiveness.”
“It’s Dostoyevsky, not Dr. Phil,” she laughs.
She’s too far away to kiss, and I’m in too much pain to move. But I squeeze her hand and smile at her. “Marry me, Dahlia.”
Her eyebrows arch. “Really?”
“Really. I don’t want to be apart from you ever again. I want you to be mine forever—and I want to be yours forever, too. You make me a better person. I want to do the same for you.”
Her smile is so dazzling that it makes my heart thump in my chest. Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. She nods. “Okay.”
If I wasn’t confined to a hospital bed, I’d shout out and celebrate, and spin her around the room. As it stands, though, all I can do is smile and squeeze her hand.
“I love you,”
I whisper.
“I love you too.” The two of us fall asleep beside each other—exactly where we were always supposed to be.
Epilogue
Dahlia
Damon and I spend another week in the hospital together. On the third day, a knock comes on the door. Lady Malerie sticks her head in, and Damon nods for her to enter.
Her face looks pinched, and more lines have appeared around her eyes. She sits down in a chair beside Damon’s bed and takes a deep breath.
“I spoke to my brother,” she says.
“And?” Damon asks.
Lady Malerie shakes her head. “Oh, Damon, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Her eyes fill with tears and my chest squeezes. “He told me everything. He admitted everything. I’m so sorry.” A tear rolls down her cheek. I’ve never seen her look so… human.
Lady Malerie swings her gaze to me and inclines her head. “Miss Raventhal, I know that forgiveness is a lot to ask, so I won’t ask it of you. I was blind to my brother’s crimes. He was King and I… Well, I guess I didn’t want to believe that he was a bad person.”
“We were all blind to it,” I respond.
“Your mother wasn’t.”
“No,” I admit.
Lady Malerie takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry—and I want you both to know that… Well, I’m happy for you—truly. I see the way you look at each other, and I hope that one day I’ll find someone who loves me the way you love each other. I’ll never forgive myself for the pain I’ve caused you and your family.”
“Must run in the family,” I grin.
“Excuse me?” Lady Malerie frowns.
Damon chuckles. “I think what Dahlia is saying is: she forgives you.”
“Wholeheartedly,” I respond. “I know you didn’t mean to bring the bee inside, and I know that you were only trying to protect your family from what you saw as a threat.” I pause. “But, Lady Malerie, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Will you please try to talk to my mother? I’m not expecting you to be best friends, or anything—but I’d like it if you were civil.” I glance at Damon, and we both smile. “I think I might be sticking around the castle for a while, which means you and my mom might be seeing each other quite regularly.”
Malerie straightens her shoulders and nods. “I’ll do my best.”
I extend my hand toward her, and she grasps it in hers. She leans over Damon and presses a kiss to his cheek, and then leaves us alone again.
Damon exhales deeply and I smile at him.
“I respect that of her,” I say. “That took a lot of guts to come in here and apologize like that.”
“She’s not a bad person,” he says. “Although she does smell very oniony.”
I laugh, nodding. “She does. That’s actually fairly common with women.”
“It is?”
“Uh huh,” I nod. “Women excrete more sulfur when they sweat. It mixes with the bacteria that causes body odor—staphylococcus hominis—and makes an onion smell. Men excrete more fatty acids, so they smell like cheese.”
Damon grins. “Let me guess—Chekhov said that?”
I nudge him, laughing. “Entry-level microbiology, Damon.”
He just laughs, winking.
“I don’t mind your aunt. I don’t think she’s a bad person, even if she does smell oniony.”
“When I think about it now, she was around a lot after my mother died. I didn’t think much of it then, but now… Maybe she does really care about my brothers and me.”
I climb out of my bed and crawl in beside Damon in his. I’m a lot more mobile than he is—battered and bruised after his fight. He winces as I touch his chest, and I move my arm away. I settle in beside him, barely touching him but resting my head on his pillow. He leans his head against mine and lets out a sigh.
“I love you, Dahlia Raventhal...”
“…and I love you, Damon Farcliff. You know something?”
“What’s that?”
“Us being together is a big deal—not just for our families, but for the Kingdom, too.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, it’s like a new era. Your father was power-hungry, and cruel, and now Charlie is ushering in change. So are you. Forgiving my family and dating me is like a new beginning for Farcliff.”
“What can I say? I live in service of the Kingdom.” Damon grins, and then presses his lips to my temple.
We don’t leave each other’s side until we leave the hospital. Even then, I go back to Farcliff Castle with Damon and move into his chambers with him. The hundred hours I spent in a coma feel like they were a hundred years, and I never want to be apart from him again.
Damon makes me feel complete. Being with him shines a light into all the dark corners of my mind, where fears about my curse and doubts of my own abilities still lurk. He banishes them all, and gives me the strength to take on the world.
He gets his teeth fixed, and smiles more than ever before. Some of the scars on Damon’s body won’t ever disappear, but they remind us that things haven’t always been this good.
It takes weeks before we both feel back to normal. The Farcliff tabloids publish story, after story, after story about us—until I feel like I’ll never be accepted in Farcliff because I’m a Raventhal. Videos and photos of Damon’s fight also go viral, and the press is especially vicious toward him.
We try to stay out of it, but it’s hard to ignore every single news story. It’s not until Malerie comes out in support of our relationship that the news stories start to change. Lady Malerie spends more time in Farcliff in the weeks when we recover, and I come to appreciate her presence more deeply than I could have thought.
She’s not a warm woman, but she’s strong. I appreciate her unwavering sense of self, especially when I’ve struggled to find my own way in the world. I also appreciate the effort she makes in reconciling with my mother. The two women find an uneasy sort of civility with each other, and I decide that’s enough for now.
Baby Charlie’s christening is beautiful, and at the end of it, Lady Malerie wraps me in a big, onion-smelling hug afterward. Is it strange that I find her scent almost comforting now?
“I’m glad she chose you, Dahlia,” Malerie tells me. “You’ll be a wonderful godmother.”
I finish my last semester at Farcliff University a few months ahead of my due date. Damon, on the other hand, decides not to finish medical school.
When I ask him about his decision, Damon sighs.
“I think I was doing it for all the wrong reasons. I thought it would make me a better person, or it would make up for what I’d done. After the fight…”
He takes a deep breath.
“…after everything came out in the press, I know that I’ll never be able to be a normal person—not as a prince. They’ll always tear me to shreds. I can’t be a medical professional if I’m living under that kind of scrutiny.”
“Shouldn’t have chosen a Raventhal as a girlfriend, I guess.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” he grins. “I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried.”
I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, smiling. “So, what are you going to do now?”
Damon sighs. “Well, I was thinking that I wanted to do something good for Farcliff. What do you think about a foundation for mental health? Supporting youth who are struggling. I could have used something like that, growing up.”
I press a kiss to his cheek and smile at him. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
Life didn’t turn out how I expect it to.
I came to Farcliff wanting to find out the truth about my past and about my family. I found it, and it’s not a neat little story that I can lock away in my heart. The past is messy, and jagged, and full of hurt feelings and rancor that might never heal.
But by coming here, I also found love—and the love I have with Damon is worth any messiness that comes with it.
Our baby girl, Dawn, is born surro
unded by happy tears and doting grandparents.
Damon and I get married six months later, in a similar ceremony to that of Elle and Charlie. It’s just close friends and family—and no press, thank goodness.
At the wedding, I lean my head against Damon’s shoulder, and watch our guests as they dance and drink. Near the edge of the room, my mother is rocking my baby girl and dancing along to the music. Malerie approaches, and I watch the two women smile over the child. My mother hands off my daughter to Lady Malerie, smiling, and my heart grows.
“They look like they’re getting along,” Damon says, following my gaze.
“Never thought I’d see the day.”
“You brought us back together, Dahlia,” Damon says, putting his arm around me.
I settle into his arms and let happiness wash over me. In his arms, I know that we’ve found the type of love that I didn’t think existed.
We’ve found true love. A love that runs deep and strong. A love that doesn’t waver and doesn’t hesitate—the kind of love that lasts until the end of time.
Cruel Prince
An Accidental Pregnancy Romance
Royally Unexpected: Book 3
1
Jo
The door slams, and my boyfriend of two years becomes my ex-boyfriend, as of right now.
I stand in the middle of my studio apartment, staring after Ryan. He’s gone. I’m not even sure how I feel about it. Offended? Relieved? Indifferent?
Glancing over at my laptop screen, I flinch. A grimace lingers on my lips as I read the form letter for the fourth time. It’s yet another rejection email from a publisher, and it stings. I’m more hurt about their rejection than Ryan’s—and that’s probably exactly why he left. Apparently, I care too much about my flagging writing career and not enough about his ego.
Should I care that he’s gone? Does the fact that I don’t make me a bad person?
I’m not heartless, I swear. Ryan was nice, I guess.
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