I’m already thinking about her lily-white body splayed out on my bed, her hands twisting into my silk sheets, her screams muffled in my down pillows. Having her here in the castle makes me think about our first evening together, when I broke every single castle rule with her in the throne room.
Yes—being here with Dahlia is a very, very good idea.
They say that texting while walking accounts for at least fifty percent of all pedestrian deaths in Farcliff, and as I turn the corner, I understand why. I walk head-first into another body, jumping back in surprise as we both stumble backward.
“Aunt Malerie!”
“Nephew.” She brushes imaginary dust off her dress. “Where are you going so quickly?”
“Back to my room,” I say, slipping my phone back into my pocket after I hit the ‘send’ button.
My aunt’s eyes don’t miss anything. She watches the movement and then flicks her gaze back to my face. Her eyebrow arches, and she takes a step toward me.
“We’re not so different, you and I,” she purrs.
Maybe, but at least I don’t smell like onions.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, trying my best to sound casual. Three seconds ago, I was thinking of burying my face between Dahlia’s legs, and now my aunt wants to catch up like we’re old friends.
Great.
“Well, we’re both second in line for the throne. Both destined to be forgotten in the history books. Both not quite good enough to wear the Crown.”
“I don’t want the Crown.” My brows draw together and I glance over my shoulder. I don’t want Dahlia to walk up to us now.
“Maybe you think that today, but you’ll watch your brother lap up the adulation of the people, and resentment will fester.” Mal’s eyes darken and her lips twist downward. “You might not feel it yet, but being in second place for your entire life does tend to wear a person down.”
Is this why she’s always so easily offended? Why she’s on edge all the time? Plain, old-fashioned jealousy?
I shake my head. “Aunt Mal, I’m telling the truth. I don’t even stay at the castle most days. I’m giving up my royal title to go to med school. I don’t want the Crown.”
Her head tilts. “If you don’t stay at the castle, where do you stay?”
Something in the way she asks the question makes fear spark in the pit of my stomach. The hair on my arm stands on end, and I try my hardest to keep my breath steady.
I gulp, averting my eyes and shrugging. “I have an apartment in town,” I lie. I don’t want to tell my aunt where I’ve been staying. I’ve already seen the way she looks at Dahlia, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to give Aunt Mal an excuse to hate her—or an excuse for Dahlia to fear my family any more than she already does.
My aunt stares at me for a few more seconds, and then takes a deep breath and seems to relax.
“Did you know the name Malerie comes from the French word malheur? It literally means ‘unlucky’.” My aunt shakes her head, sighing. “It’s all too appropriate.”
“No, I didn’t know that.” I glance up and down the hallway, ready for this conversation to be over. I don’t like talking to my aunt at the best of times, and this is just getting fucking weird.
“You and I should go to lunch one day, nephew. We have more in common than you think.”
“Does my name mean ‘unlucky’, too?”
Malerie just laughs, and another wave of onion wafts toward me. I smile awkwardly and try to motion around her. I already texted Dahlia, and I need to get back to my chambers to meet her. Given the option between standing in a hallway having an awkward conversation with my half-estranged aunt, or taking my girlfriend back to my bed and fucking her brains out, I know which one I’d choose.
It isn’t my aunt.
Before I can move past her, though, her eyes brighten and a cruel smile stretches across her lips.
“Well, well, well,” she says, staring past me.
I feel Dahlia’s hand on my arm before I even turn around to look, and my heart sinks. Dahlia is trembling. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at my aunt. She curtsies delicately, and then glances up at me.
Malerie grins at the two of us. “Is this the apartment in town that you were talking about?”
“Nice to see you, Aunt, but if you’ll excuse me…”
I step around her, giving her a wide berth. She just keeps grinning at Dahlia and I as we shuffle past, and then half-jog down the hallway until she’s out of view.
“What was that about?” Dahlia whispers when we’re a safe distance away. Her hand floats to her stomach almost protectively. The movement looks familiar, but I can’t quite place where I’ve seen it before. Dahlia’s eyebrows draw together.
“I’m not sure. I didn’t even know she was in the castle. I thought she left the day of the wedding.”
“She gives me the creeps.”
“Me too.” I put my hand around Dahlia’s shoulders and hold her tight. We make it to my chambers without seeing anyone else, and I lock the door with a sigh.
Dahlia is twisting the fabric of her dress between her hands. She stares at the floor, chewing her bottom lip until I take her hands and place them around my neck.
“Don’t worry about my kooky old aunt,” I say gently. “You’re safe with me.”
Dahlia takes a deep breath and forces a smile. “Yeah,” she says. “Okay. What did she want, anyway?”
I wave my hand dismissively, shaking my head. “She kept saying that she and I were the same, second in line for the throne and always destined to be disappointed.”
“Huh.” Dahlia frowns.
“I kept telling her that I didn’t want the Crown. I want my own life—because you know, a king is history’s slave.”
Dahlia’s eyes brighten and a delighted laugh tumbles through her lips. “Tolstoy!”
I grin and pull her closer to me. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to use that. It was the only quote that was short enough for me to remember.”
Dahlia just laughs and lays a soft kiss on my lips. The tension between us eases, and she melts into my arms. Feeling her like this makes me feel like everything will be okay. We’ll get over this stupid family feud. We’ll be together. Everything will be fine.
We lay in bed together, but instead of the crazy, feral sex I’d envisioned, all I do is hold her. I wrap my arms around her as she puts her head to my chest, drawing small circles with her finger. I stroke her hair and kiss her forehead, loving the way she feels in my arms.
As much as she struggles to believe me, I know I’d do anything to keep her safe—from what, though, I’m not exactly sure. I just know that whatever Dahlia is worried about—whatever fears are on her mind—I’ll be right there with her to face them.
27
DAHLIA
SEEING Damon’s aunt in the hallway throws me off. She looks at me like I was a fawn in the forest, and she was a hungry wolf.
But Damon holds me until I felt okay again, and then we make love. When it’s over, I look around the rich, ornate furnishings and I wonder if I really belong here. My mother does—she looked at home in the formal living room, perched on the edge of an expensive chaise. My father looked equally as comfortable, eating the rich food and drinking the fine wine that was offered to him.
I’m not so sure. I may be their daughter, but I grew up living a simple life.
Tiptoeing out of Damon’s room at around midnight, I make my way through the silent corridors back to my own guest bedroom. It takes me nearly twenty minutes to get there, because I make a couple wrong turns and end up in the opposite wing of the palace. It’s eerily quiet at night here.
When I finally find my way back to my own room, I climb into bed and breathe a sigh of relief. My ears ring in the silence, and I try to hear a noise—any noise—that might help me fall asleep. At home, there’s always the sound of cars on the road, or the creaking of the house in the wind. Sometimes, I can even hear the scratching of mice in the walls.
Here in the castle, there’s nothing. You’d think it would be easier to sleep when it’s quiet, but there’s nothing to drown out my racing thoughts.
I finally do get to sleep, though. When I wake up to the sun streaming through the sheer curtains, with a tray of fresh coffee on my nightstand and warm slippers ready for me to wear, my attitude toward castle life improves quite a bit.
Staying at the castle isn’t that bad. Dare I say—it’s actually nice. It’s much closer to the Farcliff University campus, so my commute to classes and to the lab is almost halved. As much as I teased Damon about his feather beds, it is nice to have a decent mattress.
After a couple of nights, I even get used to the absolute silence of the night.
MY PARENTS STAY at the castle longer than expected. The King and Queen are gracious and welcoming, and I watch my parents relax into their old life at the castle. We spend the holidays here as a family. Even my aunts make it to the castle for Christmas dinner.
It’s nice. It feels more and more homey. I try not to think about the baby—I think I’m in denial. Maybe I’m too weak, or too scared, but I don’t want to ruin what I have. Damon and I are happy together, my parents are comfortable in Farcliff, and it finally feels like we have a future here.
After five weeks at the palace, I’m almost used to the feather beds and excessive pomp and circumstance of literally everything. Breakfast is a whole ordeal with silver trays, butlers, and a banquet table loaded with rich foods.
In January, classes start again. I stare at myself in the mirror every morning, wondering if my bump is starting to show. I’m two months pregnant, and I still haven’t told a soul.
Call me weak. Call me a coward. Call me whatever you want—I’ve already called myself worse. For the first time in my life, I get to be with my parents and see them happy. I have a man that I care about—and maybe even love. He cares about me, too.
I don’t want to ruin it. For a few more days, or maybe a couple of more weeks, I just want to cling on to this feeling.
I’ll tell them. I will. Just—not right now.
“WELL, they sure do know how to cater,” my father says with a wink one morning.
I slather some crunchy peanut butter on a piece of toast and grin at him. “They sure do.”
I glance over at my mother, who seems to have relaxed a bit. She even has a smile on her face as she sips her morning coffee.
King Charlie enters the room with Elle and their baby. We all stand. Elle glances at me and rolls her eyes—she’s obviously still not used to all this rigamarole. I grin. She’s still the same old Elle. I watch her with her baby, and my heart squeezes.
She’s the same old Elle, with a baby and a husband and a happy life. Maybe that’s possible for me, too?
Damon is still working nights, so I still don’t get to see much of him. He won’t be back at the castle for another couple of hours, and by that time, I’ll be in class. It’s okay, though. We steal whatever moments we can and always make the most of our time together.
“How did you sleep, Mother?” I ask, taking a seat next to my mom.
When she turns to look at me, her eyes are clear and she seems to have fewer lines on her face.
“I slept wonderfully, Dahlia.” She takes another sip of coffee and lets out a satisfied sigh.
I glance around the room at our little family—because Elle and Charlie are family, too—and hope sparks in my heart. Maybe Damon is right. With Charlie and Elle on the throne, things will change. Maybe, before my parents leave Farcliff again, I can tell them that I’ve been dating him.
Maybe when I tell him about the baby, things won’t fall apart. Maybe I can get my own happily ever after, too.
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
I finish my breakfast and a castle worker whisks my plate away. The movement startles me—just as it always does.
Except this time, I don’t spill my coffee, or flip a plate over, or fall on the floor. Nothing bad happens. He just takes my plate away. There’s no curse, no clumsiness—nothing. A grin touches my lips, and hope burns brighter in my heart.
It might be silly, but even being less clumsy makes me think that things might just work out. It’s like it’s a sign from the Universe telling me that things are looking up.
“Oh, Dahlia.” Elle—or, Queen Elle, as she’s now known—stands up to stop me. She puts her hand on Charlie’s shoulder and a smile drifts over her lips.
“What is it?”
“Well,” Elle glances from me to my parents. “Since we’re all here, I was hoping to ask you something.” Her eyes are shining. Charlie reaches up to squeeze her hand as it rests on his shoulder.
“Okay.”
Elle takes a deep breath. “Would you be Charlie’s godmother? The christening is next week. You’ve been there for both Charlie and me for a long time, and I can’t think of anyone better.”
My mother’s face breaks into a smile and my heart skips a beat. I suck in a breath, and the room stills.
This feels significant. My mother was named Charlie’s godmother, before everything went to shit. Before the murder of the Queen, before the exile, before our family name was dirt.
Elle’s eyes widen and she stares at me expectantly.
Maybe this is a way to make up for the past. Maybe this time around, we can do things right. Naming me godmother would send a very clear message about the Raventhal name, and what it means in Farcliff. We wouldn’t be the butt of bad jokes anymore. I wouldn’t have to hide who I really am.
I’d be the Crown Prince’s godmother. My own mother would be redeemed, and we could all move on with our lives.
I could tell Damon about the baby without being afraid that I’d be thrown out or disgraced.
“Well?” Elle says softly.
I nod, smiling. “Of course, Elle—er, Your Majesty. I’d be honored.”
“Don’t you start calling me Your Majesty,” she laughs, striding toward me. She wraps me in a tight hug, squeezing me to her breast. “Thank you, Dahlia.”
“Thank you, and you, Charlie.”
The King smiles. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I glance at my mother and father, who both nod at me gently. Their demeanor has changed over the past week. They’re no longer wracked with worry. My mother stands up and glides toward me, putting her hands on my shoulders. She smiles at me and kisses my cheek.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispers.
My heart flutters. I’m beaming, staring at each of them in turn. I walk over to baby Charlie and kiss his forehead. Then, I straighten up and take a deep breath.
“I’m going to be late for class.”
Elle grins at me, and nods as if to say I can go. Within just a couple of months, she’s already become regal.
I slip out of the door and float all the way to campus. Being the Prince’s godmother is an incredible honor, and my heart is soaring.
After my mother’s reaction to that news, I know that I can tell her about Damon and me. I know that my mother is beginning to overcome her fear of Farcliff, and there’s a real chance she’ll approve of me dating one of the princes…
…and if I can tell my parents about my relationship, maybe I can tell Damon about the baby, too.
I make it through the whole day of classes with a smile on my face, and then make my way to the lab for work. When I walk in, I’m not afraid of breaking the glass instruments or tripping over some expensive equipment. I feel confident, and comfortable, and most importantly, I feel like everything might just turn out alright.
28
DAMON
MY RESIDENCY IS BECOMING MORE like an endurance marathon than a learning experience. Nights are long and slow, and the tiredness seeps into my bones. Even day shifts are grueling.
I haven’t been seeing much of Dahlia, but we spend every minute we can together. Even when I’m off, I spend my time reading, studying, and doing paperwork. She studies alongside me, and my love for her grows every day.
I
never thought I’d say that word—love. But it’s there, simmering just under the surface. It’s budding in my heart, slowly pushing out the darkness that resided there before.
TONIGHT, I’m midway through my ICU rotation. It’s a busy night. There are a few incidents in Grimdale, including a couple of gunshot wounds that my shift has to deal with.
In the moment, when the patients come in, I’m focused, clear-headed and ready to do the work. As soon as it’s over, though, I find a quiet supply closet in the hospital and sink down onto the floor.
Dropping my head in my hands, I take a few deep, raking breaths.
Not for the first time, I wonder if this is really what I want to do. I’m giving up a life of luxury for this. I’ve worked hard for years to get to where I am, but now that I’m here, I’m not so sure it’s what I really want to do.
Why did I go into medicine in the first place?
I don’t even know what time it is. The hospital is like a time warp. Leaning my head against the steel shelves stacked with cleaning products, I pull my phone out of my pocket to see a message from Dahlia.
Dahlia: I have some good news :)
A smile stretches over my face and my heart beats a little easier.
Damon: What is it?
Dahlia: I’ll tell you when I see you.
I grin. Dahlia lifts my mood every single time I talk to her—even if it’s only a short text. I slip my phone back into my pocket and heave myself up to my feet. My legs are sore and my feet are aching. I rub my palms over my face and take a deep breath before pushing the door open again.
My attending physician is at the end of the hospital. She waves at me. “Come on. We’ve got another one.”
I END up sleeping on one of the couches in the staff lounge for two or three hours, and then having to get up for my next shift.
It’s grueling, but when I drag my feet to the cafeteria and shovel down some food before I start work, I don’t feel as despondent as I did this morning. This is what I want to do.
Yes, I’m giving up a lot to do it, but it’s my calling. I want to help people—even if it means working long hours.
Heartless Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 2) Page 14