by Renna Peak
“Princess—Justine—I only want to walk with you. If we should see a spot where we might take a meal together, I’d love nothing more than to sit with you. I just…I’ve missed you.”
I frown. I’ve missed him, too—more than I’ll ever tell him—but I can’t let him back into my life. “So we’re to be…what? Friends now? I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“Because you have so many friends here?”
“Because…because we both know how this ends—”
“Ah, again with talking about the ending.” He cocks his head. “How about we speak only of the beginning—?”
“The beginning was nearly as bad.”
His grin widens. “Then we’ll speak only of today. Nothing else.” He extends his elbow to me. “Shall we?”
I’m still shaking my head as I take his elbow, and we begin walking to the exit of the dormitory.
“How do you like living here so far?”
“It’s fine. I’m somewhat disappointed that there isn’t snow yet this winter.”
“You like the snow?” He grins down at me. “I’d have thought you wouldn’t—”
“You don’t know me, William. You never did.”
“You’re quite right, of course. It’s something I’m here to remedy.”
I can’t even look up at him—I keep my eyes firmly in front of me. As much as I would love to be with him again—to learn to trust him again—I’m not even certain I can find the will to be nice. “I highly doubt you’ll have time to remedy anything in an afternoon.”
“I will if it extends into an evening. And perhaps another day. And another evening after that…” He pauses. “And if we like, it can continue like that for eternity.”
“Why are you doing this? Do you really wish to torture me?” Can’t he see how much he’s hurt me already? Can’t he understand how much more pain he’s going to cause?
He stops suddenly, turning me to face him. “Do you think the last six weeks haven’t been torture for me, as well? I’ve thought of nothing but you.”
I can’t seem to stop my anger from spilling out of me. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that I don’t believe you. You aren’t the only one who reads the tabloids, you know.”
He shrugs. “I don’t generally read them at all. I only wanted to see how you were getting on—”
“And you thought I didn’t want to see how you were getting on?” I glare at him. “I might have come to America. I might have—how did you put it? Come here to live my dream? But I didn’t run into the arms of a former lover—”
“I did not.” His eyebrows draw together. “You’re assuming what you read was true. And it wasn’t.”
“Hm. It isn’t for me to judge, William. We’re no longer married. And you and our fathers agreed that our marriage never even existed, so according to the laws of both of our countries, we were never married.”
He blinks a few times. “That isn’t how I’m going to remember our time together—”
“No, neither will I. But say what you will about me. I didn’t go running into the arms of my former lover—”
“Perhaps if you’d gone to Harvard, you would have.”
I glare at him, and it takes all my strength not to reach up and slap him. “I think you should leave.”
“I think I should stay.”
“To what end? So we can argue all the more?” I wave my hand between us. “This is all there is. All there ever was. All there ever will be. I’m sure you can find a nice Montovian girl—some non-noblewoman to argue with. One that your family will approve of.”
“My mother approves of you. She approves of my being here.”
“She said that?” I tilt my head. “She actually encouraged this brazen foolery?”
“Well, she didn’t actually say the words, but I know she approves. She’d welcome having you back in the palace if you’d come.”
“But I’m here. For now, at any rate.” I begin walking down the path that leads to the edge of campus. Luckily, not many students attend the intersessions, and the place is not nearly as full of students as it will be in a month. Though I still feel like there is someone or something staring at me, there is no one nearby—no one close enough to overhear anything I might say.
“You’re planning on leaving?” He catches up to me in a few strides.
“I won’t be living here forever.” I can’t tell him my days are numbered here—when this session is over in a month, my pregnancy will likely already be showing. It won’t do for me to be out in public if no formal announcement has been made. I don’t need the news getting back to my father through some tabloid’s photographs of my baby bump.
“Obviously. But it sounded like…” He shakes his head. “Can we at least speak civilly? Over a meal, perhaps?”
The mere mention of food has me wishing I could go take one of my nausea pills. “I don’t want to eat. If you’re hungry, I’m sure there are places—”
“Coffee, then. Or something stronger. Surely there are bars—”
“I’m not thirsty, either.” I can’t tell him I can’t drink alcohol for other reasons, but he doesn’t need to know.
“Then we can go somewhere else.” He points to a nearby building. “How about there? Surely there will be somewhere to talk in there.”
“That’s a library, William. You see the end of the sign where it says library? I’m not sure where you went to school, but in most places, they frown upon loud conversations in libraries.”
“It wouldn’t have to be loud.” He grins. “Though I do suppose our conversations do get a bit heated from time to time.”
“Can we just agree to go our separate ways? Please?” I’m not sure I recognize my voice—it sounds a lot more defeated than I’d realized.
“I’m not ready to leave. The way I left you last time is still something I deeply regret.”
“And as true as that may be, you still broke my heart.” My words still cause tears to sting at my eyes and the same wrenching twist in my chest. “I don’t really want to let you anywhere near it again. I hope you can understand that.”
“I do. I…do. And I know it’s difficult to believe me now, but I’m not going to ever let it happen again. I learned my lesson. And I’m going to do what I can to make it up to you.”
“Please, William. Please. I can’t. Perhaps one day you’ll understand. I need…I need you to go. I need to do this on my own.”
He stares at me for a long time, his eyes shining. But he says nothing else. He finally shakes his head before he turns.
And I watch him walk away.
William
I return to her dormitory in under an hour, a full plastic bag hanging from one arm. When Justine answers my knock and sees me, she starts to shut the door in my face, but I block it with my foot.
“I have some things to show you,” I tell her, lifting the bag.
“I thought we were done here.”
“We’re not. And I think we both know that.” I level my gaze at her. “You have every right to be angry with me, but I would appreciate it if you let me in.”
Her eyebrow arches. “And if I refuse?”
I shrug and grin. “Then I’ll just sit outside your door all night. Maybe your neighbors will take pity on me and bring me a pillow to sleep on later.”
She shakes her head, but I swear I see the hint of a smile on her lips. “You never give up, do you?”
“Where you are concerned? Never.” I sober a little. “Please, Justine?”
The hesitation is still plain on her face, but as she’s considering, I hear footsteps behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see a couple of young people coming down the hall, laughing and chatting with each other. They don’t pay much attention to me at first, but as they pass, one of them glances in my direction—then does a double take.
I quickly turn back around, but I’m not sure if the young woman recognized me or not. Either way, Justine seems to realize the risk, because she opens the
door, grabs my sleeve, and yanks me into the room.
Once we’re safely inside, she releases me. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Don’t worry—I have no intention of making a public scene.” I raise my bag again. “Can I at least show you what I’ve brought?”
“Fine,” she says, though she doesn’t look too pleased by it. Still, I might be imagining things, but I see something in her eyes that gives me hope. I think, deep down, she wants to reconnect as much as I do—she’s just frightened, and with good reason.
Was there any friend she could turn to during these last few weeks? I find myself wondering. Even though I was experiencing turmoil, I had the loving support of my family around me. Somehow, I doubt Justine has had the same. Even after everything that’s happened, I’ve never doubted that my family wants the best for me—even if I disagree with what that best might be—and I’ll never forget what I’ve learned from watching my older brothers find true love. The image of Leo and Elle looking at their new child will stay with me forever.
I want Justine to know that, too. I never want her to feel alone ever again. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make her trust me again.
I reach into the bag and pull out a stack of magazines. “This is every tabloid I could find. We’re going to flip through all of them, and if you have any questions about anything they’ve said about me, I’ll answer every single one honestly.”
She stares down at the magazines. “This really isn’t necessary.”
“But it is.” I take her hand. “There’s only one way to restore trust, and that’s to offer full honesty, no strings attached. Ask me anything, and I swear on my life—on the lives of my entire family—that you’ll have the truth.”
Her eyes drop to the pile of magazines on the floor. She gives the stack a small kick, spreading the tabloids across the grungy carpet, revealing one with a picture of me and a lingerie model on a beach.
“So you didn’t sleep with her?” she asks quietly. From the way she blinks after the words have left her mouth, I suspect she didn’t mean to ask that out loud.
But I don’t hesitate to answer. “That picture is three years old. I suspect they only dug it up now to fuel the rumors surrounding the breakup of our marriage. I did sleep with her—but only back then. I haven’t seen her in over two years. And I haven’t slept with anyone since our marriage was annulled.”
She’s silent for a long moment. “No one?”
“Do you think I’m some kind of animal? That I’d run off the moment the papers were signed and find someone else? I love you, Justine. I don’t want anyone else.”
She closes her eyes, and then opens them again. “Why now? Why did it take you six weeks to show up here?”
“For exactly the reason I told you earlier—I kept trying to tell myself that I’d made the right decision, that I was doing the right thing by letting you go. But then the baby came…” I can’t help but grin, even though I still feel grim on the inside. “Leo and Elle had their baby. The news hasn’t broken yet, though I’m sure it will within the next day or so. They had their baby, and when I was standing there in the room with them, they were just so happy, and…and I don’t know exactly how to explain it. I knew I needed to find you. I couldn’t stay away from you another day.”
I squeeze Justine’s fingers, but when I look into her eyes again, I realize her face has gone very white.
I’m losing her. Nothing I’m saying is helping. Good God, how do I get her to trust me again? To understand that I belong here by her side?
And then I realize what I’ve said. And I remember how uncomfortable she got back in Rosvalia whenever anyone brought up the four male heirs she’d need to have before she could inherit, and how upset and defensive she got whenever I suggested we get started on our family. I didn’t want to listen to her back then, but I’ve had a lot of time to think during our weeks apart. I won’t make that mistake now.
“That isn’t to say I would want us to dive right into having children,” I say quickly. “Not at all. In fact, I think it would be best if we took some time to ourselves, got to know each other a little better first. I shouldn’t have pressured you before about the heirs. In fact, it’s probably better to keep any children out of this until we know what your father’s up to. Our lives are too complicated to even think about kids right now. In the meantime, I just want to be by your side again. To start over and build something between us.”
Her face is still ghostly pale, and she yanks her hand out of mine.
“I…” She glances around as if looking for an escape. “I need to run to the bathroom.”
My stomach sinks even further—looks like I managed to scare her after all.
“Of course,” I say, stepping out of her way. While she dashes into the small washroom, I look down at the stack of tabloids I brought.
So much for that strategy. Crouching down, I gather them up and walk over to the bin next to the room’s kitchenette. I’m about to drop the magazines inside when I catch a glimpse at what’s on top of the rest of the rubbish.
Pamphlets. But not just any pamphlets.
I drop the magazines and grab the papers from the trash. One of them is titled, “So you’re having a baby.” Another is about the adoption process. Still another details what to expect during the first trimester of pregnancy.
My hands are shaking. Why would these be in Justine’s bin? Why, unless…?
The sound of the washroom door opening makes me spin around, the pamphlets still in my hands. And when Justine’s eyes fall on them, the look on her face tells me everything. My entire body tenses.
I can’t keep the anger out of my voice as the words spill out of my mouth. “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”
Justine
The only word that comes to mind is…forever. But I can’t tell him the truth—especially now. He just made it clear he doesn’t want children, so now what am I supposed to do?
I straighten slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
‘Th-these.” His voice is shaking as he shoves the stupid pamphlets at me. “You… You’re…”
I grab the papers from him and shove them back in the bin where they belong. “That means nothing. Those…” I glance at the leaflets in the bin. “Those mean nothing.”
He grabs my wrist. “Justine—”
“Unhand me.” I wrench my arm away. “I think you were saying you were leaving.” I march over to the door and open it, motioning for him to go.
The color has drained from his face, and he seems unable to move. “I never said—”
“I’m saying it, then. It’s time for you to leave.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you’re honest with me.”
“I haven’t been dishonest with you.” And it’s true—I haven’t lied to him. Not yet. But I will do what I need to do. And now that he’s made his feelings about children known to me, what else am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly spring the news on him. And even if I did, there is still the issue of my father. As soon as he finds out, I’m quite certain there won’t be an issue any longer. And there’s nothing saying William will hold true to his word, anyway. I trusted him once and he betrayed me. There’s nothing stopping him from doing so again.
“Justine.” William runs a hand through his hair and leans against the counter separating the small sitting area from the tiny kitchen. “Justine.”
I let out a long sigh before I close the door again. “There’s nothing to say.”
“There is, though. How…how long have you known?”
I stare at him for a long moment, unsure of what I should say. But there is little point in lying about it. And truly, having him know might make things easier. If he knows, my father will find out. And when my father finds out, there won’t be any more choices to make.
I let out another long breath. “Four days.”
“Oh.” He nods. “I suppose…I suppose
that isn’t very long.” He nods again to himself, almost as though he’s trying to convince himself the news is true. “But…but you were planning to tell me.” His voice is flat, and there is no question in the statement.
I frown, dropping onto the sofa. “William…”
“Well…I suppose I know now, right?” A small smile comes to his face and he lifts his gaze to meet mine. “We should…we should celebrate. I’ll get champagne—no, you can’t have champagne.” He laughs. “I…I’m going to be a father. This…this is amazing. This is unbelievable.”
I shake my head slowly. “William, sit down.”
He’s still laughing, almost giddy, as he drops onto the chair across from me. “How do you feel? We should see a doctor, be sure that—”
“I’ve seen a doctor. It’s where I got those leaflets.” I stare at him for a moment. “William, I—”
“My family is going to be overjoyed. Two grandchildren in a year…”
My eyes widen for a split second before I realize he’s speaking of Leopold’s child. His would be first. Mine would be second—of course he doesn’t know about the third.
I’ll admit, William looks much happier than I’d ever anticipated he would. He does run his hand through his hair every few moments as he laughs to himself, showing how nervous he is, too. The thought of bursting his bubble is like a knife in my stomach—he doesn’t understand that there is nothing to be happy about in our situation. Nothing at all.
“I’ll move here to be with you, of course. Though…” He looks around the small room. “I think we should get something a little bigger. Perhaps, something more appropriate.”
I glance around myself. The room is somewhat dingy, but I don’t mind it at all. It makes me feel normal—human. “I haven’t decided what I’m doing yet, William.”
His gaze snaps to mine. “What you’re…doing?” His mouth falls open, and it looks like some of the air has deflated from his chest. “Justine… You can’t be serious. You—”
“I am serious.” I cross my arms over my chest. “And it isn’t as though it matters.”