I nod and think about the fact that someday the little babies I’m carrying will be in history books. Someday they’ll be remembered as rulers. I have to make sure history looks at them as good and wise ones.
Alex rises, leaving me the books, and walks back into the sitting room that sits behind my balcony.
“Did the doctor come today?” he calls out to me.
“Yes.”
I get to my feet and follow him, feeling ungainly as I waddle in his wake. I know it’s important for the health of my little ones that I keep moving around, and I want to keep moving around, but it’s much easier to lie on the chaise with my hands resting on my enormous belly and look out at the city than it is to try to walk.
It’s not just the weight of my twins, although that is considerable, and it makes things hard. But it’s also the weight distribution of my body, so different now from what I’m used to. I walk with my hands on my lower back, bracing myself, slowly as a brachiosaurus.
By the time I reach the kitchen, Alex has been there long enough that he’s begun chopping up fruit for my daily smoothie. I lean on the counter and watch his deft hands at work.
“What did the doctor say?” he asks. “Is he worried about your food aversions?”
I laugh gently. “No. I told you that wasn’t an issue, didn’t I?”
Not only did I tell him, but I also showed him the chapter in my pregnancy book that explained why I craved some foods and couldn’t stand the sight of others. But Alex has proven to be a very anxious father-to-be.
It’s sweet, really. It’s so plain how much he cares for me and the babies. He’s going to be a wonderful father. I believe that with all my heart.
Alex finishes making the smoothie and pushes it across to me. He used to include banana in the mixture, but banana is one of the foods I can’t stand now, so it’s a variety of berries. I haul myself onto a stool at the counter and begin to drink.
“The doctor says I’m coming along nicely,” I tell him. “He says everything’s looking good for the C-section in two weeks.”
Alex nods. “That’s great.”
He opens the refrigerator and surveys the contents. I know he’d like to have a beer, but he rid the house of all alcohol the day I moved in, declaring that as long as I couldn’t have a drink, he wasn’t going to have one either. It was needlessly noble, in my opinion, but at the same time, I can’t deny that I’m a bit touched by it. Alex settles on a fruit-flavored soft drink and returns to the counter.
“Are you ready, do you think?”
“I think so,” I say. “The nursery is almost all set up. They still need to paint the pattern on the focal wall, but I guess that’s not very important, is it?”
“It is if you want it,” Alex says. “I’ll make sure the painters come tomorrow.”
“Will the C-section be here in the apartment?” I ask.
It’s been really nice having a team of doctors come here for my checkups, not having to go sit at a clinic or worry about being seen by the public or having medical details leaked. But a C-section, an actual surgical procedure, is different. I’m nervous at the prospect of not being in a hospital for that.
Alex seems to understand. “The team is the best in the kingdom, if not all of Europe,” he says. “And they’ll have all the equipment they need to do the job. Don’t worry. I would never make a sacrifice when it came to your health and safety, or that of our babies.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” I say. “I just get nervous.”
“I understand.”
He walks around the counter and takes me in his arms. It’s harder for Alex to hold me now than it once was, and the position we’ve both come to favor is him standing behind me, arms wrapped around so he can rest his hands over the babies. He holds me that way now and kisses my shoulder.
“It’ll be all right,” he says. “If a hospital was safer, we’d be doing that. I promise you.”
I nod. “I believe you.”
I finish my smoothie and push the glass over to him. So far, he hasn’t mentioned tonight’s big event, and in a childish way, I’m half hoping he’s forgotten it and that I won’t have to go. But when he speaks again, my hopes are dashed.
“Have you chosen an outfit for tonight yet?”
I close my eyes and indulge in a brief moment of disappointment.
“Not yet. I was hoping you would help me.”
He nods. “It’s really your first royal appearance, isn’t it? Not counting the time you were presented to my parents, of course.”
“I’m not sure you can say ‘not counting’ the time I was presented to the king and queen of Avaran,” I object. “That was actually a pretty major event for me. That definitely counts as my first royal appearance.”
I think back to that meeting, less than twenty-four hours after my arrival in Avaran. I’d been sent a hair and makeup entourage that would put my Royal Blue team to shame and a royal outfitter to sew me into a perfect pale gold gown. I was presented to King Donato and Queen Filippa by Alex himself, who escorted me on his arm into the throne room and bowed—bowed to his own parents—before declaring my name.
By rights, tonight shouldn’t be as intimidating as that was. And yet there’s another factor here, one that complicates things dramatically. Because I knew Alex’s parents were happy about the twins, ready to welcome them into the royal family. I knew they would be pleased to meet me. Tonight, I don’t have that feeling at all.
Tonight, I’ll be meeting Duke Enzo Gosar for the first time.
And I would not be at all surprised if the duke and his family had no good feeling toward me or my babies. Not after the way their country treated them when they were in the same position Alex and I are in now.
How could they not feel resentful? They’re welcoming us into their home because it’s politically necessary, but that doesn’t mean they want us there. How could they?
Earlier this morning, one of my maids delivered a rack of dresses, all tailored to my exact current measurements. I was supposed to be choosing something to wear. But I’ve been avoiding it because I can’t stand to think of what might happen tonight when we face Alex’s uncle and his family.
Will they curse me for the fact that my children will be royal when their family was forced to give up the throne? Will they let us into their home but be cold and hostile the whole time? How much I’d rather stay here in my comfortable suite, relaxing on my feather bed with Alex beside me or going out onto the balcony to look at the city as it comes to life for the night.
Alex disappears into the bedroom and returns with a wine-colored dress draped over one arm.
“This one,” he says. “You’ll look beautiful in this. Try it on.”
Resigned, I step out of my sweatpants, pull my tank top over my head, and allow Alex to help me into the dress.
I must admit, it does fit perfectly. The tailors have done their job well. It hugs my baby bump without being tight, showing off my pregnancy tastefully. I examine my reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that.
“It does look nice, doesn’t it?”
“You do,” Alex corrects, taking me in his arms again. “You’ll amaze everyone tonight. I don’t know what you’re worried about.”
“Of course you know what I’m worried about.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Uncle Enzo has always been kind to me. He’s never shown any resentment for the fact that his family lost the crown to mine.”
“Okay,” I say, “but there was no double standard before. Things are different now. You’ve done exactly the same thing he did, and you’re not being punished. He’d be only human to be upset about that, Alex, no matter how kind a man he is.”
“Even if he is upset about the inequality of it,” Alex argues stubbornly, “he can hardly blame us. We weren’t even born when he lost the throne. We had nothing to do with that. And I’m sure he doesn’t expect us to walk away from our responsibilities out of some sense of fairness. What happened to Enzo w
as an injustice, but it wouldn’t make it right if I sought out the same fate for myself. It would just mean that a wrong had been done twice.”
I shake my head. “I sure hope he sees it the same way you do.”
Chapter 21
Alex’s uncle and aunt have a huge estate that covers several acres of land. It’s located deep in the countryside, so far from the city that you can’t even see the twinkle of the lights anymore, and it’s about as different from the palace as anything could be. The palace is all smooth stone and pillars, the outside a gleaming marble white, but the duke’s estate is rough-hewn and gray, a look that nods to its ancient heritage.
Alex helps me out of the car and up the steps to the front door, and we’re shown in by a butler. The man smiles as he takes our jackets, which is an encouraging sign, and then he shows us down the hall to a great dining room featuring a long wooden table set for six. The king and queen are already there, and they rise to greet us, as do another man and woman who must be Enzo and his wife.
They take me in for a long, loaded moment, and a part of me longs to run back out to the car as fast as my heavily pregnant belly will allow. What are they thinking? Do they want me to go?
Then Enzo extends a hand. “Welcome, Miss Steadman,” he says cordially. “We’ve heard quite a lot about you.”
My eyes dart to Alex. “Good things, I hope?”
It’s impossible to tell, under Enzo’s bushy mustache, whether he’s smiling or not. His eyes give nothing away.
But his wife has none of his subtlety. “This is the American movie star?” She nudges her husband out of the way and takes my hand. “We’re so pleased to meet you, dear.”
“The pleasure is all mine, ma’am,” I manage taken aback. “And no, I’m not a movie star. I just have a television role.”
She waves a hand at that. “I have seen you on your show, of course. Oh, you must call me Giovanna. Look at your lovely hair. But please, sit down. I know your feet must hurt; when I was carrying my Lauro…”
She chatters on as Alex helps me into my seat and the butlers emerge from the kitchen to place the first course before us. The lid is lifted and I inhale warm cheese and fresh bread. Alex picks up a piece of bread and dips it into his cheese.
“Fondue is my uncle’s secret indulgence,” he says, leaning over. “He’s celebrating tonight. This is good.”
“It is?”
“Yes. If he wasn’t happy to be hosting us, he’d have served small portions of something that would have us out of here quickly, not something we’d savor.”
I dip the bread in the cheese and pop it in my mouth. It’s hot and delicious.
“I’ve never tasted such fresh bread.”
“His boulanger makes it daily. How do you think he got so fat?” Alex grins.
“Boulanger?”
“Bread cook.”
“He has his own bread cook?”
“Uncle Enzo likes a good meal.”
“What’s that you two are talking about?” Enzo asks, and my spine stiffens a little. Have I offended him? “Do you like the cheese course, Miss Steadman?”
“Very much, sir, thank you.”
His mustache twitches. “She’s a polite one,” he says to Alex. “The politest American I’ve ever met, for certain. Ever since Lauro moved over to the States, his manners have been going downhill. That wife of his means well, but she doesn’t have the same upbringing, and their children might as well be zoo animals.”
“Enzo,” Giovanna chides. “That’s your son’s family you’re talking about.”
He shakes his head. “When she’s right, she’s right, is she not? And God knows I love them all. But you, Miss Steadman, you have the right grace about you.” He nods. “She’ll do well in court, Alessandro.”
It’s hard to believe what I’m hearing. Did I just win Uncle Enzo’s approval?
Alex smiles at me across the table and gives a little nod, as if he heard my question, as if he wants to let me know that I’ve done well. I’ve made him proud. And if Enzo Gosar approves of me, that must mean he welcomes my children and plans to support their eventual reign. It means that instead of growing up with an uncle who resents them, they’ll grow up with one who loves them and wants to help them succeed.
I help myself to another bite of fondue. This really is the best cheese I’ve ever had in my life.
Chapter 22
“Your uncle doesn’t think much of Americans, does he?” I ask Alex after dinner.
The two of us are walking hand in hand through the gardens behind the old stone house. It’s like another world back here, fragrant with the aroma of olive and lemon trees, and I feel very far away from the stress of the dinner.
“Not very much, no,” Alex chuckles. “I hope you weren’t offended.”
“I wasn’t, but what was that about?”
“It’s nothing very serious,” Alex says. “His oldest son, my cousin Lauro, went to live in America. He actually went there for college, and while he was there, he fell in love with one of his classmates. I don’t think Enzo ever recovered from the shock.”
“Why was that a shock?” I ask.
“Because Lauro was supposed to be a prince of Avaran, and instead he’s in New Jersey married to a kindergarten teacher.” Alex shrugs. “I can never predict what my uncle will choose to be upset about or who his feelings of ill use will target. But he doesn’t seem to resent you at all, does he? That’s something.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I agree. “He didn’t seem to mind me a bit, unless he’s much more subtle than I’m giving him credit for.”
Alex shakes his head. “If he’d had an issue with you, you would have known about it. He was being genuine when he said you had manners, and I think he likes that about you. I think he’ll probably rub it in Lauro’s face the first time the two of you meet…”
“Oh, no,” I say, anxious. “I don’t want that. I want Lauro to like me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Alex smiles. “Lauro’s used to the way his father is. He won’t blame you if something like that happens.”
I nod, trying to feel reassured by Alex’s steady, calm presence. “Your uncle and your father didn’t have much to say to each other either.”
“There are old disagreements there,” Alex says. “Enzo doesn’t blame Father for assuming the throne, but I think he believed he’d be able to give counsel, to help guide the running of the country. After all, he’d been groomed his whole life to be a ruler, and Father didn’t have the same preparation. But Father had different priorities than Enzo, and he ignored a lot of his brother’s advice.”
“And now Enzo’s mad about it?”
“Probably more hurt than mad,” Alex says with a small frown. “His pride is wounded. But there isn’t much he can do about it now unless he wants to sulk forever.”
“I suppose that’s true,” I agree. I lift my hands over my head and stretch. It feels good to be moving around.
Alex is watching me anxiously. “Are you in pain? Are you tired? Maybe we should go back to the house.”
“No, Alex, I’m fine.”
“Seriously. We could have lemonade made for you. You know, they pick the lemons right here in the orchard and squeeze them fresh every day. It’s very good. And you probably shouldn’t be spending this much time on your feet anyway.”
“Yes I should,” I object. “My doctor said it was a good idea for me to get some exercise. That’s the doctor you hired, I might add, the one you said was the best in all of Avaran.”
Alex looks doubtful. “He said it was okay for you to do a lot of walking around?”
“I haven’t done a lot of walking around,” I point out. “The house is just a few yards over that way. And it’s good for me to get a little exercise, Alex. It’s good for the babies.”
“That’s what the doctor said?”
“That’s what he said. I promise.”
Alex allows a smile onto his face. “You must think I’m completely neurotic.”
“I think you’re concerned, which is a quality I’m more than happy to see in the father of my children.” I smile up at him. “Believe me, it doesn’t bother me at all that you want to make sure they’re well taken care of.”
“Not just them,” he says. “It’s you, too, Erica. I worry about you. I want to make sure nothing happens to you.”
“I’m almost at the end of this pregnancy,” I point out. “Two weeks from now, we’ll have our babies.”
“I can’t wait,” he says.
“Have you thought about names?” I ask him.
He laughs. “I thought you’d never ask! I’ve been thinking about names ever since I found out there was a baby.”
I swat his arm. “You never told me that.”
“Well, once you decided you didn’t want to find out the sex of the babies until they were born, it seemed like there wasn’t much point in speculating,” he says. “But of course I’ve thought about it. I can’t help but think about it, any more than I can help picturing them. God, I hope they look like you.”
“No way,” I object. “I at least want them to have your eyes. A little girl with your eyes…can you even imagine how beautiful she’d be?”
Alex wraps an arm around my shoulders. “As long as they’re healthy and happy, I’ll be more than satisfied. That’s all that really matters.”
“So what names have you been thinking of?” I ask him as we follow the stone path of the garden into a little clearing ringed with sturdy-looking benches. I make for one of them, and Alex helps me to take a seat. “They should have Avaranian names, right? Names the people of this country are going to be familiar with?”
“I think that’s best,” Alex agrees. He leans back, bracing the palms of his hands on the stone of the bench, gazing up at the stars. “I wish we knew if they were boys or girls!”
“So impatient,” I say. “Have you always been like this? Unable to wait for anything?”
“I can wait for things.”
“They’ll be here in two weeks, and then you’ll know. Enjoy the anticipation.”
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