Royal Mistake: The Complete Series

by Ember Casey

  It isn’t fair to either of us to allow any hope this relationship of ours can continue. I’m not sure how this even happened—how having a fling with him somehow turned into a near-marriage proposal and expectations of providing him with an heir or five.

  “Victoria, please…” The brokenness in his voice I heard last night is definitely there in his plea.

  And then I remember what Sophia said earlier—how he had nearly thrown himself from the roof last night.

  I can’t let myself be guilted into turning around and going back to the palace. But he does at least deserve an explanation.

  I shift in my seat, not really turning to him, but facing forward. I fold my hands in my lap—I can’t risk letting him touch me. Allowing him to make me change my mind.

  And I have to tell him the truth.

  I stare at my hands for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain. I finally look up, staring at the empty seat across from me where the elderly man had been sitting until a few minutes ago.

  I let out a long breath. “I have to tell you something, Andrew.”

  “Look at me, Victoria.”

  A thrill of electricity runs through my body at his words. The same words he’s said to me almost every time we’ve slept together—and he has to know it.

  But I don’t look over at him. I hold my gaze on the headrest of the chair in front of me. “I need you to let me tell you—”

  He reaches over and places his fingers on my jaw, turning my head to face him. “Look at me. Please.”

  I don’t pull away, but I don’t look up into his eyes. I stare at his chest instead. “Andrew, you need to let me tell you this. I promise, once you hear what I have to say, you’ll want me to go.”

  He’s silent for a moment. “I don’t believe that for one second, Victoria. There is nothing you could have possibly done in your past that would change the way I feel about you.”

  My eyebrows draw together and I frown. “It’s not anything I’ve done, though. There’s something about me you need to know. Before you go and ruin your chances with Lady Clarissa—”

  “The woman almost broke a vase over my head this morning.” His fingers trace along my jaw back to my ear before he rests his hand on the back of my neck. “She ruined her own chances.”

  “Then your chance with the others. I mean it, Andrew.” I finally lift my gaze to meet his. “I should have told you before.”

  He shakes his head, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. “There is nothing…nothing you can say to me that will make me change my mind about how I feel about you, Victoria.” He shakes his head again. “Can’t you see? I’m in love with you. I love you more than I can even say.”

  Tears sting at my eyes and my heart twists in my chest. “Andrew, I—”

  “I realize we haven’t been together long. But I’ve known it for what feels like forever. I didn’t want to listen to my heart. I…can’t you see? You’ve changed that about me. I’ve never listened to my heart. I’ve never done what would make me happy. And you…you, Victoria. You are what makes me happy.”

  My shoulders drop and I struggle to hold back my tears. “Andrew, I feel the same way about you. I do…I think I really do. But—”

  He smiles. “Then there is no but. We’ll face the consequences together. We’ll…we’ll face my father together. And he’ll have to see reason, Victoria. And…” He motions behind him with a wave of his hand. “And you saw how those citizens reacted when I told them I had made my choice. Once they see us together, once they can see how we feel about each other…it won’t matter. And once we have a child—”

  “I can’t. Andrew…” My voice hitches in my chest. “I…can’t.”

  The line between his eyebrows deepens. “You keep saying that. But you can, Victoria. If I can do this, surely—”

  “No…God…Andrew…” My chest is heaving. “Will you listen to me? Please? For one minute, please? Just listen.”

  He pulls his hand away from my neck and grips his thigh. He frowns as he nods and his gaze drops to his lap.

  I try to gulp down the despair I can already sense will be in my voice. “Andrew, seven years ago I was with another man.”

  His jaw clenches and he lifts his gaze to mine. “Victoria, I do not need to hear about this. I don’t care if you—”

  “Let me finish. Please.”

  His frown deepens and he nods again.

  “Okay.” I blow out a long breath. “It was right after the Olympic trials. I found out I was pregnant.”

  His voice lowers to almost a whisper again. “You have a child?”

  I shake my head. “No.” I shake my head again, trying to push away the tears that are threatening to fall again. “No…I…the man I was with proposed. We were…we were going to get married. And then…I…”

  My heart feels like it might have stopped—I can’t get the rest out. I haven’t talked about this with anyone since it happened. It’s been one more thing I haven’t wanted to deal with—another thing I’ve buried deep inside, never to be thought about again.

  And I’ve told myself for the past seven years that it was fine. That I didn’t need a child to make me happy. Or that if the man I eventually married ever did want a baby, we could adopt. I somehow know that neither of those are acceptable options for Andrew.

  I let out another breath. I stare down at my hands and almost will my breathing to stabilize enough to let me get out the part I need say. “I was pregnant with twins. I had a double ectopic pregnancy. I lost them both. I lost everything.” I look up at him. “I can’t have children, Andrew. I can’t get pregnant. I can’t give you an heir.”

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, locations or incidents are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Ember Casey and Renna Peak

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition: March, 2017

  Andrew

  Victoria can’t have children.

  For a long moment, I’m not sure I’m fully comprehending her words. From the way she’s staring at me, I know I should be feeling something—shock, anguish, betrayal—but instead I just feel numb. Detached.

  I must have misheard her.

  But the longer I look at her, the more the truth starts to creep in. I see it in her eyes. Hear it in her short, shallow breaths. I know I heard her correctly—my mind repeats every word: I can’t have children, Andrew. I can’t get pregnant. I can’t give you an heir.

  Over and over and over again.

  The force of that truth finally hits me, and I feel like I’m drowning beneath a tidal wave I never even saw coming.

  Victoria can’t have children. She can’t give me an heir. I’ll never get to watch my child grow inside of her. Never hold our little son or daughter in my arms.

  When she said she had something important to tell me, I never thought it could be this. I’d prepared myself for some sort of sordid tale from her past. But this…

  I have no idea how to process this.

  She’s looking intently at me, waiting for me to say something, to respond. In her eyes I see so many emotions—uncertainty, fear, and a deep sadness—and I can only imagine she sees a similar mix of things in my own face. I don’t know what to think. What to say. What to feel.

  This can’t be right. This can’t be…

  I find myself rising. I don’t know where I’m going, what I’m planning to do, but I need some time to think. To understand.

  Victoria can’t have children.

  Victoria can’t have children.

  Victoria…can’t…

  I’m walking down the aisle of the train, ignoring the star
es and exclamations of the passengers who recognize me as I pass. I continue to the end of the car, then on through the next one, all the way to the private compartments at the end of the train.

  Victoria can’t produce an heir.

  I feel dizzy. Ill. Like my entire life is crumbling around me. I finally took a risk, made a choice for my own happiness, and I’d convinced myself that it would be the best thing for Montovia, too. But the universe has snatched it away from me. Tainted the one good thing in my life.

  I close myself in a private compartment. Rage boils through me—rage at myself, at my father, at whatever cruel God did this to Victoria. To us.

  The moment the compartment door is shut behind me, I spin to face the large, padded seat along the compartment wall. My fist slams into the padded back of the seat as an animal cry tears out of my throat.

  I hit the seat again and again. I’m yelling, too, but the sounds coming out of my mouth don’t resemble words.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this—I made the hard choice. I was willing to risk everything for Victoria. We should have had a chance to make things work, to create a happy ending in all of this. But we were screwed from the start. There was never a chance for a happy ending, and she knew the whole time.

  She should have told me. She should have said something. I risked everything for her…

  But while the feeling of betrayal sits heavy in my gut, the part of my mind that can still form slightly rational thoughts says, When should she have told you? When you hired her to manage your PR? When you were asking her for advice on choosing your future wife? When your father was threatening her? When?

  One of my knuckles has split open, but I keep punching the seat. I can’t believe I allowed myself to believe that I might have everything I wanted. That I might be with Victoria and be a good king for Montovia. That I might be able to piece together some happiness, even when everything is falling apart around me.

  Suddenly, the door to the compartment opens behind me.

  “Your Highness?” comes the voice of the conductor. “Your Highness, is everything all right?”

  I can tell by the slight quaver in his voice that he’s more than a little alarmed by my behavior. Slowly, I uncurl my fists and turn to face him.

  “Yes,” I say. “Everything’s all right.” My voice sounds raw.

  “I heard you yelling…”

  “I’m frustrated, that’s all,” I say, trying—in vain—to relax my shoulders. “Not frustrated with the train,” I add quickly. “The service has been impeccable.”

  The man’s mustache twitches slightly, and I know he’s trying to decide how much to press the matter.

  “If there’s anything I can do for you, Your Highness—”

  “I am fine, I assure you.”

  “If there’s anyone I can contact, or—”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ve simply had a trying day.” I force my lips up into a smile, but judging by the flicker of worry in his eyes, I imagine it must look more like a grimace. “I’m under a lot of stress at the moment, I’m afraid. Just simply working off a little steam.” I wave my hand to indicate the compartment around us. “Why do you think I booked half the train for myself?”

  That, at least, seems to convince him of my sincerity.

  “Very good, Your Highness,” he says with a bow of his head. “But if you should need anything at all—”

  “I will contact you immediately, of course. Thank you for being so attentive.”

  The man gives another bow before leaving me alone in the compartment again.

  The moment he’s gone, I feel as if all the energy has been sucked out of me. I sink onto the seat, utterly bereft. I prop my elbows on my knees and drop my face into my hands.

  What am I going to do? How am I going to fix this?

  That’s precisely the problem—I can’t fix this. I’ve made it through my life so far by being proactive. By attacking my problems head-on. I’m not afraid of action. In fact, my greatest fear has always been quite the opposite—ineffectiveness. Incompetence. Helplessness.

  I feel helpless now. Completely, utterly helpless.

  But I still love her. My feelings for Victoria haven’t changed, even though the circumstances surrounding our potential future suddenly look very different. I still want her. Still need her. Still don’t know what I would do without her.

  And I just leaped up and ran away from her when she dropped this news on me. I left her there without saying a word.

  Fuck—I’m a heartless bastard.

  I jump up from my seat. I have to go back to her, have to explain to her that we’ll figure this out together somehow.

  I charge out of the compartment and back down the train. I’m sure I look like a madman to the other passengers, but I don’t care. I need to speak to Victoria.

  When I get to her seat, though, she’s no longer there.

  I glance around. Where the hell did she go? She couldn’t have run far—we’re on a moving train, after all. There are only so many places she might go.

  My eyes roam over the car. A number of passengers are staring at me, and though on another day I’d take the time to speak with them—as their future king should—today my mind is on other things.

  “The woman who was sitting here,” I say to those within earshot. “Where is she? Where did she go?”

  A couple of people shake their heads, but a woman with a small child on her lap juts her chin down the aisle behind me. “She went that way, Your Highness. Toward the dining car.”

  “Thank you,” I say over my shoulder as I hurry down the length of the car.

  The dining car is crowded. My gaze skims over the crowd, but once again, I don’t see her. I do, however, spot the elderly couple that was sitting across from Victoria in the other car. The woman notices me and raises a hand in greeting.

  I stride over to her.

  “Did you decide to join us, Your Highness?” she says with a big smile. “I saved a seat for you, see? Someone tried to sit here a few minutes ago but I told him I had to save it for you.”

  I regret that I can’t accept this woman’s generosity, but finding Victoria is the most important thing right now.

  “The young woman who was sitting across from you in the other car—did she come through here?” I ask. “I must find her.”

  “She ran past here a little while ago,” the woman says. She glances over at her husband. “How long ago would you say that was? Five minutes? Ten? Poor thing looked upset.” Her watery blue eyes turn back to me. “Did something happen?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” I say, shame coursing through me. “I’m trying to find her.”

  “There’s not much in that direction,” the elderly man says. “This is the last passenger car. But she might have gone into the washroom.”

  The bathroom. Of course.

  “Thank you,” I tell them. I hope I have a chance to come back and speak with them again later, but Victoria comes first.

  I practically run down the rest of the dining car—which draws a few more surprised stares—but I don’t care. When I reach the washrooms, one of them is open. The other is occupied, and I rap lightly on the door.

  “Victoria?” I say.

  There’s no response.

  I frown. Maybe the older couple was wrong—maybe she isn’t in here. Maybe I’m disturbing some poor soul who’s simply trying to do his business in peace.

  But I have to be certain. I knock again.

  “Victoria, please,” I say. “If you’re in there, just let me speak with you.”

  This time, I hear movement on the other side of the door.

  “Don’t worry about me, Your Highness,” comes her muffled voice. “I’ll survive.”

  Now that I know she’s in there, I have no intention of leaving.

  “May I come in?” I ask her.

  “No.”

  “We need to talk, Victoria.”

  “Don’t worry about me. You’ve made yourself perfectly
clear.”

  My ear is pressed against the door, taking in her every word. When I glance up, I realize that nearly everyone in the dining car is staring at me, watching this little scene unfold. Only those in the nearest seats are close enough to hear anything, but that doesn’t matter—watching the crown prince talk to someone through a washroom door is probably fascinating whether or not they can actually understand what I’m saying.

  Still, I turn so that I’m facing away from the other passengers and press my other ear to the door. I can’t grant us any more privacy than that—unless I can convince her to open the door.

  “Please, Victoria,” I say softly. “Will you come with me to one of the private compartments so we can talk? Or at least let me come in there and speak with you?”

  For a long moment, nothing happens. And then, just when I’m starting to wonder if I should try the handle, she cracks the door. Her eyes look up at me through the narrow opening.

  “Really, Andrew—I mean it. Don’t feel like you need to say anything.” Her voice sounds calm, steady, but her eyes are slightly red. She’s been crying. “I knew this would be a deal-breaker for you. That’s why I told you. I should have said something before, but I…I guess I never realized things would go this far between us. I thought this was just a fling. That you’d be marrying someone else a month from now. I never thought…” She sucks in a breath. “I know how important it is for you to have an heir. I just never thought I’d be in a position where it might be my responsibility to give you one.”

  My fingers curl around the edge of the door, blocking her from closing it again. “May I come in?”

  She hesitates only the briefest of moments before nodding and opening the door a little more. I slip inside.

  The washroom is small—far too small for two people. But I don’t care. It gives me the perfect excuse to take her in my arms.

  “I shouldn’t have run off like that,” I tell her. “I was shocked, that’s all. I needed some time to think.” And to yell. And to throw a few punches.

  Her eyes fall away from mine. “I know it’s a lot to spring on you…but don’t worry. I already know this changes everything.”