Standing up, Olivia plasters a smile on her face.
My father clears his throat. “Charles, you know Miss Brundle, your betrothed.”
“My what?”
Olivia’s smile trembles a touch, but to her credit, it doesn’t drop. She’s been well-trained—just like a dog.
The King rolls his eyes and waves for the doors behind me to be closed. “Sit down, son. It’s time that we made this official.” His beady little eyes narrow, and I know I can’t fight this right now.
So, I sit down. Olivia settles in her seat again, folding her hands on her lap—just as she was programmed to do.
I miss Elle’s spontaneity, her uniqueness. I miss how casual she’s always been with me. This charade—with royal manners and traditions—it drives me nuts.
I need Elle’s realness.
Olivia bats her eyelashes at me. “I saw what you did at the regatta. It was very brave of you to jump in like that. I’m on the team as well. It made me wish I’d capsized at the finish line.” She giggles coquettishly, and it bores me.
“Brave… or stupid,” the King mumbles. “You could have gotten hypothermia.”
I swing my eyes from one to the other, not knowing what to say. They’re both acting like this is completely normal. Like my father didn’t just drag me in here by force and command me to marry this chick.
A couple of months ago, I’d have played along and probably fucked her. Hell, I might already have done, I can’t remember.
But now?
Fuck no.
“Do you know Elle?” Olivia’s lips pinch when she says the name, and the skin around her eyes tightens ever so slightly.
“Excuse me?”
“Just the way you jumped in… it looked like you really cared about her.”
A tense silence fills the room, and all I want to do is jump up and scream, Yes! Yes, I know her. I’m in love with her, and I’m not fucking marrying you.
But I can’t. If I say anything about her, I’m putting Elle in the crosshairs. My father knows I’m seeing someone, but as far as I’m aware, he doesn’t know who.
Based on the way Olivia was asking about me and Elle, it’s obvious they aren’t friends.
I can’t put Elle in danger. I can’t admit that I know her, because then she’ll become a target of whatever fucked-up ideas my father has. I don’t know what he’s capable of.
So, I pull a Judas and deny it. “No, never seen her. She just looked like she was in trouble.”
“How brave of you,” Olivia smiles, but I can see the jealousy bubbling just under the surface. That’s a great quality in a fiancée I’ve never met before. She’s already feeling possessive.
“Well,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. “I was on my way out. Nice to meet you, Miss Brundle. Father,” I nod. I turn to the door, but my father stops me.
“Where could you possibly have to go that’s more interesting than here? The beautiful and talented Olivia came to the castle specifically to ask if you were all right. Show some decency.”
I make it to the doors, but they’re locked from the outside. My jaw ticks. My father has locked me in this room with him and Olivia Brundle, and now I have no choice but to play along.
Frustration builds inside me until I feel like I’m going to explode. I turn slowly, stalking back to the chair that I just vacated.
Olivia clears her throat and stands up, turning toward the King. “Charlie and I are so pleased that you’ll announce our betrothal today, Your Majesty.” She puts her hand on my shoulder and I flinch, but her fingers dig in and hang on.
I brush her off and she takes a step back from me, her eyebrows arched in surprise.
I turn to my father, my anger quickly turning to rage. “Today?”
My father grins. “Of course. What better day than today? It’s the Spring Regatta. The stage is set up already.”
“Father,” I say, forcing my face to stay steady and my voice to remain calm. “May I have a word in private?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he says, waving a hand. “We’ve had plenty of time to discuss this.” He pulls out a white envelope from his breast pocket and tosses it over to me. It lands on my lap, and I stare at it for a moment. My father has a triumphant grin on his face, and dread trips down my spine and settles in the pit of my stomach.
I’ve seen his face like this before, and only when he knows he’s won something. And right now, I’m the poor schmuck who’s just lost.
With trembling hands, I open the envelope and pull out some papers.
They’re medical records—more specifically, they’re Elle’s medical records. I skim them and my heart drops out of my ass. I read about Elle’s recent visit to the doctor, where her pregnancy was confirmed.
Perfectly healthy, apparently, and not at all secret from my father.
The King not only knows about Elle, he knows about the baby, too. He probably knew she was pregnant before I did. My jaw clenches, and I look up at him. He laughs and presses a button on the side table. The doors fly open. Waiters flood in carrying trays of champagne as if there’s anything to celebrate.
My father and Olivia pretend like they haven’t just ambushed me with this, clinking their glasses together. I stare at the paper again.
Olivia smiles at me, and a part of me dies.
The governess might not be meaningful leverage for my father, but this is. My father has me right where he wants me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
30
Elle
The problem with having a secret relationship is that when it inevitably falls apart, there’s no one there to comfort you. I watch the Prince walk away and my heart breaks. I see the shock on his face when I tell him about the baby. I’ve seen his lockable garbage cans. I know about his past with his governess.
I can put two and two together—this baby isn’t wanted.
But seeing the look on his face still hurts like hell.
It takes me almost an hour to warm up. By that time, the Prince has disappeared, and the medal ceremony is underway.
With a thermal blanket over my shoulders, I accept my gold medal. Typically, it would be the King who presents them. He’s nowhere to be found, so Prince Damon hooks it over my head instead.
“Congrats, Elle,” he says with a wink. “You deserve it.”
“Thanks.”
“Tell Dahlia I said hello.”
I manage to nod. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” My eyes scan the Royal Box and the crowd, but I can’t see Charlie anywhere. I open my mouth to ask Prince Damon where he’s gone, but the Prince has already been whisked away by his handlers.
Frank and Tina come rushing toward me as soon as the ceremony is over. Tina wraps me in a tight hug as they both congratulate me. I plaster a smile on my face, but I can’t quite make it convincing enough.
“Honey, is everything okay?”
I nod. “Still a bit cold, that’s all.”
Dahlia appears, wearing pure-white pants and a pink faux fur jacket. Her multicolored hair is braided in two French braids on either side of her head. Somehow, she makes everything look sophisticated, cool, and way trendier than I’ll ever be.
My best friend wraps her arms around me. “Congrats, Elle,” she says. “How are you feeling?”
I give her a sad smile and understanding flashes across her face.
“You want me to take you home?”
I nod, turning to Frank and Tina. “Thank you so much for coming. Do you mind if we postpone dinner until tomorrow?”
“Of course, honey,” Tina smiles. She wraps me in another motherly hug, and it takes all my self-control not to break down crying.
I wish I could tell them everything that’s happened since the Prince’s Ball. I wish I could tell them about the baby, about the Prince, and about the fact that I’m completely freaking out about everything in my life right now.
Instead, I just pull away and let Dahlia take me home. We drive her orange Jeep back to our run-down house
, and I take a deep breath the moment we arrive. At least I’m home, now. Away from prying eyes so I can wallow in peace.
She leads me to the couch and drapes a blanket over me, and then disappears into the kitchen. I lay there, unable to think or move or feel.
When Dahlia reappears, she has a pot of tea, two boxes of cookies, and a bag of chips. She plops herself down on the couch and grabs a cookie before handing me the rest of the box.
“How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know.” I snort bitterly. “He doesn’t want the baby.”
“You told him?”
“Yeah, in the water. I just blurted it out.”
Dahlia looks at me and exhales slowly. “And he told you he didn’t want it?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
“Well, don’t panic. It’s cold in Farcliff Lake, maybe he was hypothermic. He was probably in shock. He might come around.”
“If he wanted a baby, he wouldn’t need to ‘come around’, Dahlia.”
She pinches her lips and reaches for another cookie. “Don’t panic.”
“Easier said than done.”
“At least you won.”
“Yeah, go me,” I scoff, shaking my head. “Fat load of good that’ll do when I’m kicked out of school next year.”
“Okay, stop.” Dahlia turns to me and puts her hands on my lap. “You need to stop freaking out. We will figure this out.”
“How? I still have another year of college that I can’t afford without this scholarship. I’ll lose that, and then I won’t be able to finish my degree. On top of that, I’ll have a baby to deal with.”
“What about summer classes? Night classes? Part-time? You can work and study. I’ll help. I’ll loan you money. The Prince will pay! It’s his kid, too!”
Tears sting my eyes and I shake my head. “I don’t know about that.”
“Listen to me, Elle. This will work out. You want this baby, yeah?”
“Yes, of course I do.” I put my hand to my stomach. “I want to be the best mother I possibly can be, but I don’t know how to do that.”
“I think most mothers feel that way,” Dahlia smiles. “Don’t forget that you have me, you have the Valencias, and you have the Prince. You’re not alone. We’ll help you, and we’ll figure it all out. Takes a village, right? We’re your village. Right here.”
I take a deep breath and let her words sink in. Nodding, I let a tear fall from my eye. “You won’t abandon me?”
Dahlia laughs. “No, you’re stuck with me.” She grabs the TV remote and clicks it on. “Come on, let’s watch something trashy and forget the world exists.”
I nod, settling into the sofa. My whole body is exhausted from the race, from capsizing, from the shock of telling Charlie about the baby. My eyelids feel heavy and I sink down into the cushions as I make myself comfortable.
Dahlia finds something for us to watch and I’m almost asleep when the show cuts out.
“Breaking news from Farcliff Castle,” the man on the screen proclaims. “We have just received word that Prince Charlie is engaged.”
I sit bolt upright, grabbing the remote from Dahlia and turning the volume way up.
“After years of speculation, the Prince has announced his betrothal to Oliva Brundle, daughter of Marcus Brundle. Olivia is a successful political science student and member of Farcliff University’s rowing team…”
A strangled sort of gasp escapes my lips as my eyes widen. “Olivia?”
Dahlia doesn’t even have a way of explaining this away. She can’t calm me down. My whole body is shaking. We both stay glued to the screen, where the King, Olivia, and Charlie appear at a castle balcony. The Prince and Olivia are holding hands, and they lift their clasped hands up above their heads. Olivia is beaming. Charlie looks sick.
“What… how…” I gulp down a breath as my stomach rolls. I’m going to throw up.
“Don’t panic, Elle, we don’t know…”
I run to the bathroom, but I don’t quite make it in time. I throw up all over the bathroom floor, and then I collapse beside the mess and start sobbing. My head is spinning. My stomach hurts. My heart is broken.
The Prince is engaged to someone other than me.
Even worse, he’s engaged to Olivia fucking Brundle, the girl who has tortured me every day for the past three years.
No wonder he didn’t want the baby. No wonder he reacted like that.
Dahlia stands at the doorway and sighs. She crouches down beside me and brushes my hair out of my face and then disappears for a moment. When she comes back, she has a glass of water and a roll of paper towels. I reach for both, but she keeps the paper towels.
“I’ll clean this up,” she says gently. “You just wash your mouth and get into bed.”
“It’s okay, I can—”
“Clean your mouth and get into bed,” she says, her voice stern. “Go.”
I don’t have the energy to protest. I’m still trying to wrap my head around what’s happened. I won the regatta, which should be the happiest day of my life.
Instead, it’s the worst.
The Prince is getting married.
He knows I’m pregnant, and yet he still agreed to marry someone else.
I brush my teeth and stumble into bed, grateful that Dahlia is here. I lay on my side, eyes wide open, as the TV anchor’s voice replays in my head over and over again.
That’s why Charlie reacted the way he did. He knew he was getting married to someone else, and I just made his life a hell of a lot more complicated.
Didn’t I say this would end with a long, hard fall? Well, turns out it’s a short, devastating one. I knew it would hurt, but I had no idea it would feel like this.
Squeezing my eyes shut, my chest squeezes so tightly that I feel my heart splinter within it. I knew this would happen. From the beginning of my relationship with the Prince, I knew it would end in disaster.
I set myself up for heartbreak, yet I still ran head-first into it. I dove in the deep end without thinking twice, and now I have no future, no money, and no degree.
All I have is an unplanned baby and a broken heart.
I clutch my stomach as the tears start to fall from my eyes. No matter what, I refuse to think of this baby as a curse. Rocking back and forth, I focus on the life that’s growing inside me.
Even if the Prince doesn’t want me or our baby, I know what I want. Even if it means it’ll take me ten years to finish my degree. Even if I have to live with the Valencias until I’m forty, if it means I have to work four jobs.
I’ll do it.
No one can take this baby away from me, and no one can make me love it any less. I’m terrified and heartbroken, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.
The Prince may not want this baby, but I do.
So, as my heart shatters, I focus on my child. This kid is like a pulsing light inside me—the one thing that I can hang on to, the one thing that will bring me joy when everything else in my life turns to ash.
31
Charlie
As Olivia lifts my arm up in the air and flashes a smile at the crowd below, my stomach does another horrible flip. I wonder what the headlines would say if I threw up right now?
Prince Charlie Throws Up on Wife-to-Be
Does Prince Charlie Puke of Happiness… or Disgust?
Engagement Induces Projectile Vomiting
Maybe it would be worth it just to wipe that triumphant smirk off Olivia’s face. But then my thoughts turn to Elle, and that medical record that my father somehow acquired.
Is Elle seeing this on TV? Does she believe it? Does she think I don’t want the baby?
I don’t know how I’ll do it yet, but I need to get out of this. I need to find a way to get my father to release me from this engagement.
If I walk away from Olivia Brundle, my father will refuse to name me his heir and he’ll release the information about Elle’s pregnancy. I wouldn’t mind that, really—but I know it would
be crushing for Elle. The press can be vicious, and I don’t want to put her in that position. I don’t want to put our baby in that position.
Not only that—if I walk away now, I’m putting Damon or Gabriel in line for the throne, and I know they don’t want it. Damon would do it, sure, and he’d be a good King, but I’d be making him give up his dreams for me. I can’t do that to my brother.
But if I agree to marry Olivia, I’m turning my back on Elle—and our baby.
I disengage my hand from Olivia’s and turn back to the door. As soon as I’m inside again, I nod to the guards at the balcony doors. “Close the balcony doors.”
“Charlie...” Olivia starts to say before I raise a hand to stop her.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Excuse me? What am I supposed to call you?” She laughs, frowning. Does she still not understand that my father is using us both? Does she think I want this?
Olivia takes a step toward me. “We’re engaged to be married. Do you really think it’s appropriate to call you by your formal title?”
“I think it’s appropriate to treat me like your fucking Prince,” I answer, turning to face her. My shoulders stiffen and my face gets darker. Olivia takes a step back, her arms falling to her sides.
My father is already making comments about little heirs, and the thought of having sex with this woman is repulsive to me. No part of me wants to touch her.
She’s an attractive woman, sure, but she’s not for me. She’s not Elle.
My father enters the room, smirking. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? I’m glad you came around.”
“I did it for Elle and my brothers, not for you. This isn’t over.”
“But you did it,” the King says, stepping up to me. His chest puffs up and I resist the urge to punch him in his smug fucking face. He thinks he’s won, but I’ll find a way out of this. I have to.
As if he reads my mind, he starts to chuckle. “There’s no slithering your way out of this one, Charles. You will marry Miss Brundle, and you’ll make lots of happy little heirs. You’ll forget about the girl in the lake.”
Knocked Up by Prince Charming: Knocked Up Royals: Book 1 Page 16