Page 34 of Pregnant In The King's Palace

She shrugged with a helplessness he’d never before seen, her body suddenly too slender for him to even contemplate her carrying a child. His child. ‘I don’t know what to say to you,’ she offered. ‘You said you couldn’t have children and I believed you. Why would you lie? We didn’t use protection because of that very reason, yet here I am. Expecting. Take the test again.’

‘You take the test again,’ he shot back.

‘I have. Too many times and the result never changes. I’m pregnant!’

‘Keep your voice down!’

He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t stop running his hands through his hair and if it had been long enough to grab fistfuls and pull he’d doubtless be doing that too. How could his physicians have got it so wrong? Weren’t they supposed to be the best? Had it all been some kind of plot to unseat him? A mix-up with the results? How the hell could a bunch of experts get it so wrong? ‘You’re sure about the pregnancy?’

‘I took a pharmacy test.’

Bah. ‘It’s wrong.’

‘Six of them. And while it’s true I haven’t seen a doctor yet, that’s only because I wanted to do you the courtesy of telling you first.’

‘It’s not mine.’ How could it be? He came to a halt in front of her. ‘Whose is it? One of your grooms? One of my guards? One of your polo-playing swains?’

She held his gaze but he couldn’t hold hers. ‘Is that what you want me to say?’ she asked at last.

‘I want the truth!’ he spat, hot temper getting the better of him.

‘And when it turns out to be yours? What then? Or can your tiny brain not think that far ahead?’

He couldn’t stay; he had to get out of there before the shadow of his father rose up and pushed him towards behaviours he’d sworn never to emulate. ‘Stay here.’ While he headed for the door. ‘If you leave, I will hunt you down.’

He didn’t wait for her reply as he left the room and started calling for guards. Two for the door to his quarters. Another for the door to the hidden stairs that would take her to the garden. God only knew when he’d feel calm enough to return and she wasn’t going anywhere.

‘Where are you going?’

He heard her words but his stride didn’t slow. ‘Away from you.’

Down, down, past the dungeons to the underground caverns where his forefathers had discovered a river and waterfall, where the water would be icy cold and exactly what he needed and where his body would take a pounding beneath the forceful torrent and if he let the current take him he would wash up against the grate. If he fought the current and swam, his body would soon exhaust itself but his tension and anger would be gone, buried beneath the primal urge to simply survive. He could thank his father for this particular coping method. He’d been a child when his father had pushed him to the edge of the waterfall and ordered him to jump.

Because he was too hot-headed and undisciplined even then.

Jump and cool the hell off.

The icy water helped. The pounding water beneath the fall pummelled his temper into submission, although there would be bruises tomorrow and an aching body to go with them. It would give him something to hold onto besides anger.

‘There are easier ways to die, you know.’ The voice was light and languid, but the mind behind it was sharper than most people knew. He turned to face his sister—younger than him by mere minutes. She’d escaped their father’s notice and much of his wrath simply by being beautiful, outwardly obedient and second in line to the throne rather than first. ‘Our head of security tells me there’s a Cordova locked in your bedroom.’

‘Locked is a strong word.’

‘Is there another word you’d like me to use? Are you sure you don’t want to get out of the water yet?’

‘Positive.’

‘Because your skin is turning blue.’

‘Five more minutes.’

‘That’s four minutes too many. Because I really don’t want to be crowned Queen any time soon—any time at all, if we’re being honest.’

‘Angelique’s pregnant.’

Valentine had the dubious pleasure of seeing his sister rendered speechless.

‘She says it’s mine.’

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