The Royal Rogue

by Karina Halle

  I look up to see a nurse stick her head in the room. “Princess Stella?” she asks. So far, none of the staff will call me Stella. In this setting it just makes me feel like I’m spoiled. “There’s someone here to see you. Are you accepting any more guests?”

  I frown. I think I’ve seen everyone at this point. “Who is it?”

  She clears her throat, looking uncomfortable. “I believe it’s someone important.”

  I’m still confused so I just nod and look at Anya. “Sweetie, can you give me a minute? I have a guest.”

  “Okaaaaay,” she says, grabbing her book and walking to the door. The way she narrows her eyes at me says, this conversation isn’t over.

  Just as she leaves the room and turns the corner out of sight, I hear her shouts.

  “Prince Orlando!”

  No.

  I can barely breathe and then there he is, appearing in the doorway.

  Orlando.

  He’s here.

  He’s here.

  And I barely recognize him.

  He’s tanned as hell and he’s lost a lot of weight, the navy sweater he’s wearing is filled out at the shoulders but seems to hang off the rest of him. His blue eyes stand out amongst his tawny skin, though there are dark circles underneath them. He looks tired, worried.

  And somehow still amazing.

  “Stella,” he says in a choked voice and suddenly he’s rushing over to me.

  If we’re supposed to act a certain way around each other, that doesn’t matter at the moment. I know all of my feelings of resentment and hurt and loss for him are pushed to the side as he grabs my hand between his and holds on tight, staring at me in shock.

  “I came as quickly as I could,” he says, squeezing my hand as if he can’t believe I’m real.

  Honestly, I feel the same way.

  How is he suddenly here?

  “How did you know?” I ask. Shit, is this already in the tabloids?

  “Your brother,” he says, reaching over and smoothing the hair off my face. I close my eyes, surrendering to his touch. “Aksel called me. I dropped everything and came right away.”

  “Weren’t you in Africa?” I ask, opening my eyes and taking him in again. The fact that he was there is obvious on his face. It’s not just that he’s gotten so dark being under that sun, it’s that there is strength in his features where there wasn’t before. His eyes have aged, they’ve grown, acquired wisdom. This is a new Orlando.

  “I was. In Ethiopia,” he says. “I caught the first plane out. Let me tell you, that was a doozy. Some of the roads were blocked due to rioting so we couldn’t take a convoy. We had to fly on a tiny four-seater plane that could barely get off the ground. We almost hit powerlines. And all I could think about was Ernest Hemingway.”

  “Why Ernest Hemingway?”

  “Because he flew in the same plane in Africa and it crashed and he barely survived.”

  “It wouldn’t be the same plane if it crashed…like, sixty years ago.”

  “I just couldn’t help but think that would be my fate. The irony. You know? Go to Africa, fly home to see my baby, die in a plane crash.”

  “Well, your baby is fine.”

  “I know. I was talking to the doctors. But what about you?” he asks, trailing his fingers over my cheekbones. “I came back to see you.”

  “I’m fine,” I manage to say, my voice coming out soft.

  I’m better now that you’re here.

  I want to say that to him, too. I should. But I’m still mad, still hurt. I don’t know what it means with him being here, I don’t know how to act, how to be.

  Then again, it’s always been so complicated between us. It’s never been easy.

  But it’s been worth it.

  He gives me a sad smile, his eyes searching mine like he’s looking for something. Maybe the truth. That I haven’t been fine until he got here.

  “I don’t know where to start, Stella,” he whispers. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to repair the damage that I’ve done to you. I don’t know how to regain your trust. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to make it up to you and the baby. I want to be a part of your lives, I want to be with you.”

  “How?” I ask. “How can you do that? How can we make this work? It all seems impossible.”

  “We have a saying in Monaco, that anything is possible. Even the word impossible itself says I’m possible.”

  I manage to laugh. “That’s not a saying in Monaco. That’s a quote from Audrey Hepburn.”

  “And so it’s my saying now and it’s a good one.” He chews on his lips for a moment, those lips I’ve missed so much. “Look, we’re going to make this work.”

  “I don’t want to keep you a secret,” I tell him. “It’s not right. I’ll do it if I have to but…”

  “I don’t want to be a secret either,” he says. “I won’t be. I told you I want to be with you and that’s what that means. It means it’s going to be you and I together, as a team.”

  “Just a team?” My heart starts to lurch inside my chest.

  What if we announce the baby to the world and stay friends?

  What if that’s how it’s going to be? There will be no secrets but I also won’t have him in the way that I need him. I don’t just need him as the father of my child, I need him as a lover, too.

  “Stella,” he says gruffly, his voice now thick with emotion. “I love you.”

  Oh my god.

  “I love you,” he goes on as my heart and mind struggle to keep up, to soak those words in, “I love you so fucking much. I wish I had a chance to tell you earlier but I wasn’t sure how I felt. I wasn’t sure if my feelings were for you or for the baby. Or because of the baby. I was so confused and it’s so complicated. But then I realized that love can seem complicated at times, but really it’s pretty simple. It’s a yes or a no. And I love you, Stella. It’s a yes. It’s a very big fucking yes.”

  He kisses me on the lips, soft, full of yearning and passion and…love. “I just needed you to know,” he says as he pulls away. “And I understand if you don’t feel the same way and I get it if you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. What I did…I’m ashamed I made the wrong choice there. I should have always chosen you and the baby. It’s just that I loved you so, I thought maybe I was being selfish by doing so. Choosing that love for myself.” He pauses. “Honestly, it was the first real choice I’ve made for myself, not for the person I’m supposed to be, but for me. You’re that choice.”

  Tears are prickling behind my eyes and my nose feels hot. I’m struggling to keep it together. “What about Zoya?” I ask. I don’t want to ask but I have to ask.

  “I’m going to tell her my choice. She won’t like it but it doesn’t matter this time. It’s the right choice to make. I’m choosing love, I’m choosing my life, I’m choosing you and the baby. I won’t be made to feel bad or guilty for making any of those choices. Zoya is an adult, so is Emily. They have the means to figure shit out. But our baby is our baby. I won’t have her grow up without a father, without having me in the picture every step of the way.”

  My eyes flutter. “Her?”

  A slow, sheepish grin spreads across his face. “Shit.”

  “Anya told you she thinks it’s a girl, right?” I ask him, searching his eyes. “Right?”

  He rubs his lips together for a moment. “No,” he admits, sounding wary. “The nurse told me.”

  “What!?” I cry out. “The nurse told you! When, why?”

  “I asked. I’m the father after all.”

  “It was supposed to be a surprise!”

  “Well,” he says, putting his arms out. “Surprise!”

  I shake my head. “A girl?” And then it dawns on me.

  We’re having a little girl!

  I put my hands on my stomach and think about my little star.

  He puts his hand on top of mine.

  “I love you,” he says. “The both of you. Very much.”

&nbs
p; “And I love you,” I tell him.

  Oh god, it feels good to finally admit it.

  The most breathtaking smile spreads across his face, radiating so much joy that I feel it in my bones. “You do? You love me?”

  “I love you, Orlando,” I say, giving his hand a squeeze. “So much more than I can say right now without crying.”

  “I don’t mind if you cry.”

  I shake my head, pressing my lips together and taking in a deep breath. “No,” I say when I’ve calmed down. “Once I start, I won’t stop. Everything…the baby, you, being here in the hospital. It’s been too much.”

  “And I’m so sorry that I did that to you.”

  “I know you are. I trust you. Don’t think I can’t feel it from you, see it in your face. I know you Orlando, just as you know me.” I manage a small smile and we lapse into silence for a few minutes. Just holding hands on top of my stomach, hoping she can feel us, feel the love and the hope and everything else that’s good and pure and beautiful.

  After a while I say, “So I’ve been thinking about names for the baby.”

  “You have?”

  I nod. “But only one name came to mind, a girl’s name. So maybe, deep down, I knew.”

  “Or maybe Anya is that persuasive.”

  “Maybe. Probably, actually.”

  “So what’s the name?”

  “It’s French,” I tell him. “In honor of you.”

  “Technically, it should be in Monégasque then.”

  I raise my brow.

  “I mean, I’m flattered,” he says quickly. “Go on, go on.”

  “It’s Estelle.”

  “Estelle,” he repeats, looking awestruck. “Of course. It’s perfect. A star.”

  “Our little star,” I say.

  “Our little star.”

  Chapter 17

  Orlando

  One of the scariest things I ever had to do was get in that plane with Matilde in Gambella and fly all the way to Addis Ababa.

  When I got the phone call from Aksel, well, that was scary too. But he didn’t tell me much, just that Stella was in the hospital and that she needed to see me. That’s all I needed to know anyway. She could have fallen down and scraped her knee and I would be rushing to her side. So I immediately started making plans to leave, with Matilde in tow. I wasn’t going to leave her behind.

  The plane was small and the pilot seemed under a lot of stress, maybe because there was fighting breaking out, maybe because I was stressed, maybe because it was hard to find a pilot at the last minute and he had been drinking in the bar.

  Regardless, the plane barely took off and we just managed to skirt over the powerlines at the end of the runway. All I could think about was (other than Ernest Hemmingway, who happened to cheat death many times, by the way, until he welcomed it with a shotgun. But that was on his terms, so I guess there’s that), what would happen if I died? Who would I leave behind? I would leave behind a child I never got to meet and a woman I never got to tell the truth to, that I loved her. I would leave behind a life that I never got to sink my teeth into and really live, for myself.

  Somehow, though, we made it and then onto a big jet in Ethiopia’s capital. It flew to Paris and from there, I went to Copenhagen and Matilde went to Nice. She offered to come with me but I said I had to do this on my own.

  When I went into the hospital, ushered in secretly through the back door, I didn’t know what to expect. Once I talked to the doctors and found out the baby was going to be okay (and once a nurse spilled the beans about the sex), then the rest of the fear kicked in. That same fear I had on the plane.

  What if I go in that room and see Stella and she rejects me?

  What if that life that I want gets left behind anyway?

  Aksel was at the hospital too, which didn’t help. I guess he wanted to meet me in person, to see how legitimate and serious I was about her. I only got a few words in before he seemed to dismiss me (in a very king-like fashion, I must add). I guess he saw the truth in me. Either that or he figured he would deal with me later.

  Then I saw Anya, who seemed genuinely happy to see me.

  And then I saw Stella, who, thank the lord, looked like she was happy to see me, too.

  And just like that, everything was okay. Even before I said a word, even before she said a word, I knew that we were going to work it out, that this was the right choice to make and the only choice to make.

  I’ll never choose anything but her again.

  And Estelle, of course. Our shining little star. I couldn’t be happier about the name Stella chose, couldn’t be happier to learn that she’s a girl.

  I just can’t be happier. Period.

  But even with all the happiness that seems to be bursting through me like a meteor shower, I know that this isn’t over yet. I have to make things right by talking with Zoya and ending it for good.

  I also have to talk to my father and tell him the truth.

  I’ve been in the hospital on and off for the last forty-eight hours. I sleep next to Stella in the chair, though sometimes, when Aksel or Aurora or Maja or Anya come to visit, I steal away to the palace and get some shut eye and a shower. I even get a chance to say hello to Mokey.

  This morning I’m taking the opportunity to place a call.

  But when I call home asking for my father, I get Penelope instead.

  “He isn’t here,” she says. “He’s in the council meeting.” She pauses. “Where are you, Orlando? I talked to Matilde and she’s being rather secretive about it. Are you okay?”

  “I am now,” I tell her. Well, I wasn’t about to let it all loose to Penelope. I would have rather she heard it from my father. But I guess it’s going to be the other way around.

  “I have to tell you something,” I add. “I was going to tell the both of you but…”

  “What is it?”

  I take in a deep shaking breath. I have had this damn talk with every single person I know at this point and it never gets easier. I mean, I know where I stand but I can’t predict how others will feel and my father and Penelope are total wild cards.

  “I’m in love with Princess Stella,” I say bluntly.

  Long silence. “From Denmark?”

  “And she’s pregnant with my baby.”

  An even longer silence. “What?”

  “Yup.”

  “Orlando…are you serious? This isn’t a joke?”

  “Very serious.”

  “How pregnant is she?”

  I laugh. “She’s very pregnant. Almost six months.”

  “I can’t believe this.” She sounds shocked. Very shocked. “Wait until I tell your father.”

  I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

  “I mean…he’s going to be so happy,” she goes on, her voice growing excited. “Maybe I should film his reaction. Those videos are always a hit on YouTube.”

  “Happy?”

  “Yes. My god. We’ll finally have an heir! You know that’s all we ever wanted.”

  “Well, I also figured you would probably want my happiness, too.”

  “But we do! You said you’re in love with her. That’s wonderful.”

  “Aren’t you wondering about Zoya?”

  “I guess,” she says slowly. “I assume she knows.”

  “She does.”

  “I haven’t seen your break up in the news, though. You’ve done an excellent job at being discrete. That’s a hard thing to learn.”

  “We haven’t broken up yet,” I admit.

  A pause. “But…you said she knows.”

  “Yes but you see…” Part of me hesitates. Maybe Zoya doesn’t want them to know the truth. But then again, it’s my truth too. “Zoya is in love with someone else. A woman.”

  “Oh…oh. Wait. Since when?”

  “Since maybe a year or two after we started dating. I agreed to stay with her as a front. She was afraid of coming out.”

  “I don’t blame her,” she says.

  �
��I tried to break it off with her before but…it’s just so complicated.”

  “Yes, well life is like that sometimes. But Orlando, you have to break it off with her. You’re in love and you have a baby on the way and I’m sorry but there’s nothing more important than that.”

  “I’m just surprised. I thought you liked Zoya. You guys were pressuring us to get married from the start and have kids.”

  “Of course. That’s what parents do. And we thought you were in love, though in hindsight now, I can see the signs. We just wanted to give you a little boost.”

  “You said that Zoya was getting too old,” I point out.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little pressure. And anyway, it’s all worked out.”

  “For everyone but Zoya,” I say under my breath.

  “You don’t understand, Orlando. Choosing your child is the most important thing you can do. In the end, Zoya will come to respect your decision and respect the mother of your child. You know,” her voice goes low, “there’s a reason why I always wear black in public. It’s out of respect for your mother.”

  “My mother?” This is news.

  “Selene was beloved and even though I loved your father, I knew that I would never be her. So I never tried to be. I stayed out of her role and fulfilled my own and I wanted you and everyone else to know that I respect her and her influence on your life. The black is a sign of mourning. I’ve never actually told anyone that, but it’s the truth Orlando. I thought by wearing black, it showed that I would never forget who came before me. Your mother.”

  Shit. I mean…damn. I know I’ve been a mess of emotions lately but this confession from my stepmother is hitting me deep inside.

  “I love you, Orlando,” she says and I think she’s said it before but this time I really feel it. I really let it in.

  I swallow back a choked word before I manage to say, “I love you, too.”

  She sniffs loudly. Then she says, “You’re ruining my makeup.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She laughs. “Listen, why don’t you call again after dinner. I’m sure your father will be waiting to talk to you.”