Page 20 of His Hidden Royal Heirs

“Ah, of course. Were you desperately in love with him? Did you know each other well? My guess is no if you so willingly went to my bed all those months ago.”

She had no argument for that. She had met Lyon Traverso all of twice. And they’d never been alone together. He’d shown about as much interest in her as he’d shown in the salmon that had been served at dinner.

“So, what is the difference?” Cristhian asked, with a kind of patience she didn’t trust at all. “Rank?” he asked silkily.

“It has nothing to do with rank.” He wanted to paint her some spoiled, ignorant, materialistic princess, and maybe she should let him. Maybe it would take this ridiculous idea of marriage off the table.

“Then what does it have to do with?” he asked, with an innocence so ludicrous she was tempted to chuckle herself.

“It has to do with the fact I have a right to...make my own decisions. To be free of yet another man who wants me to follow along, regardless of my own thoughts or opinions or fears. I knew what I was getting into with the arranged marriage.” Protecting her sister if nothing else, but now she had children to protect. “I don’t know what I’m getting into with you, Cristhian, and I will not put myself through that simply becauseyouthink it’s the best course of action, whenIknow it’s not.”

All his casual masks melted off his face in that moment. His mouth got very hard, very serious. His eyes all dark flame and intensity, which reminded her of things it shouldn’t when he looked as angry as he had when his gaze had met hers through the window back in her cabin.

But her body couldn’t seem to tell the difference between anger and heat. Fury and lust. They seemed all tangled up together low in her belly, in the heaviness of her breasts.

When he stepped closer, she had to internally remind herself to breathe. Not lean in.

“One thing I will make sure of, Zia, regardless of you, is that these children will come first. Your whims are immaterial.”

Whims. He really was the most frustrating and infuriating man she could have made this mistake with. “My whims?” She gestured at the castle around them. “What about yours? They seem to be winning.”

“Iam thinking about what’s best for the children.Youkeep talking about yourself.”

Perhaps that’s what it sounded like to him. She couldn’t even quite blame him for thinking that was what she meant. Even if it poked at her so that everything seemed to deflate. Exhaustion crept in, tears trying to find purchase in her eyes, though she fought them.

She could explain it to him. What it was like to watch a mother bow and scrape to a father who had all the control. She could tell him what it felt like as a young girl to watch her mother whisper truths, but always,alwayscapitulate to her father’s orders and mandates. No matter what she told her daughters. She could tell him in no uncertain terms she wanted more for her children. A mother who they could be proud of, who they could trust.

That all the things she desired for herself were really for them. And so much she’d done before this pregnancy had been for Beau, not herself. Because for all Beau’s strong personality, her panic attacks left her vulnerable. She’d needed a protector. Zia had the ability to be that. Just like she had the ability, therequirementto be her children’s staunchest supporter. Thiswas love, above all else, she believed. Sacrificing everything to protect those who needed it.

But he couldn’t possibly understand. He wanted her to be the selfish, pampered princess. And so, in his mind, she always would be. So it was with her father, so it was with no doubt every man.

“Well, Cristhian, thisselfyou’re so disdainful of will have to sayI dofor you to force me into marriage. So unless you have mastered brainwashing or ventriloquism, I think we are at an impasse.” And with that, she turned on a heel and left his grand dining room and his fuming expression.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CRISTHIANDIDN’TFUMEfor long. He knew how to deal with selfish, childish royalty. Let her throw her tantrums. Let her storm out of every room in this place.

He would come out on top. He’d spent his morning after breakfast lining up a minister to arrive once the roads were passable. He’d had a long call with his lawyer about all the necessary legalities of naming heirs of his own fortune.

They would deal with her family...after a time. Because he still had not determined the right approach to King Rendall. According to Zia, he would want the same thing Cristhian wanted: a marriage. Admittedly, in the privacy of his own head, Cristhian didn’t love the idea of wanting the same thing as a king, but it was the only plausible option to give his children the family they deserved.

Zia could worry aboutherfreedom,herwhims,herselfish desires all she wanted.Hewould not be swayed. Their children would have the support of two parents, no matter what Cristhian had to threaten to accomplish it. They would have the options of the best of everything. But most of all, they would receive the same foundation Cristhian had received.

Which meant he was in charge. He did not have to convince Zia to follow his way. She would simply follow it or...lose.

What, he did not know yet, but he would use whatever means he wished to protect his children, and their mother, no matter how selfish she might be. And now that he had the practicalities out of the way, and nothing to do but wait for the snow to stop, he called his grandparents.

He decided on a video call, as he wanted to see their faces when they reacted to the news. He’d taught them how to answer one on their phones, but that didn’t necessarily mean they would manage. Still, after a few rings, his grandmother’s face appeared on his screen.

“Did we do it right?” his grandmother asked, squinting at him.

“If you can hear me.”

“Yes, we’ve got it. Well, now. To what do we owe this out-of-the-blue call?” His grandfather looked older every time Cristhian got on a video call with them. It was a sad mark of time, and yet one his parents had never gotten to enjoy. So Cristhian tried to be grateful for what he had in them.

“I have a bit of announcement. I am to be married.”

“Cristhian!” His grandmother clapped her hands together in delight. “We didn’t know you were seeing anyone. You haven’t even brought her to visit.” It was a scolding, but it was wrapped up in love and joy for what his grandmother no doubt thought a happy occasion.

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