Page 91 of The Queen's Crown
Heather’s eyes filled with tears. “My child will serve as a backup in case you don’t get pregnant or deliver a healthy child in time.”
“Why did you feel the need to tell me this?” Sabine asked. “Rainer is perfectly capable of speaking on his own behalf.” It felt strange to use Rainer’s name and no title. It was too informal and personal.
She shrugged, her delicate shoulders rising and falling. “I wasn’t sure if he’d tell you,” she whispered. She wiped her eyes, her fingers shaking. “I’m already losing Rainer. If my child is taken away from me as well…”
Sabine reached out, patting Heather’s arm. “I understand.” There was nothing Sabine could do about it. Rainer was the king and what he said was law. If Sabine didn’t get pregnant in time and Rainer decided to pass off Heather’s child as Sabine’s, they had no choice. Heather understood that and had come here to speak to Sabine as a mother, fearful for her unborn child. However, Sabine couldn’t offer any sort of assurance. “It is my intention to give him a child and heir for this great kingdom.” It couldn’t be that difficult. People got pregnant all the time. Hopefully she’d only have to share Rainer’s bed once or twice and then she’d be with child.
Heather flinched.
This was about more than just the child, Sabine realized. It had to do with Sabine sharing the king’s bed. Heather still loved Rainer. “I think it is best if you leave with Cutler as soon as possible. Being here and having to see the king with another woman can’t be easy.” She almost apologized but stopped herself from doing so. As a princess and queen, it wasn’t her job to apologize. “I’m here to make Lynk stronger. To secure a bright future.” Not deal with a jilted lover.
Heather nodded. “Rainer wants me to return after I have the baby.”
Sabine curled her fingers in, forming two fists, trying to figure out if Heather was implying that she’d resume her relationship with Rainer as his consort. Rainer had told Sabine he would not be taking a lover, but she didn’t know him well enough to know if he’d been telling the truth or not. Perhaps things had changed since that conversation.
“He still loves me,” Heather added. “I know he does.”
“My marriage to the king is not about love,” Sabine said. “It is about providing for Lynk and Bakley. I am a royal. And as such, I have a duty to the thousands of people in my kingdom. I know you are concerned about yourself and your unborn child. But I am concerned about thousands of people and thousands of unborn children. I will do what’s best for everyone involved. I don’t have the luxury of doing what I want or what’s in my best interest.” With that, she turned and walked away, her arms shaking.
Her guards fell in line behind her. Once she turned the corner, she spun around, facing them. “If any one of you ever pull something like that again, I’ll be sure the king knows of it. Unless I’m queen when it happens. Then I’ll have you all killed for treason.”
“Your Highness,” the guard to her right said. “We were told she needed to speak with you. We assumed you’d be amiable to the meeting.”
“Don’t ever assume anything about me ever again,” she said, her voice a tad deeper than she’d intended. From rage or on the verge of crying, she couldn’t be sure. But her emotions raged within her. She longed for home and the comfort of her family.
“My apologies. It won’t happen again.”
Sabine resumed walking. “Thank you.”
They went up a flight of stairs and along another hallway, the left side containing several archways revealing the courtyard below. Glancing down, she noticed movement, so she slowed to get a better look. Axel had a woman at his side. He kissed her, and they embraced.
The palace seemed to be abuzz with activity this evening.
The day of the masquerade ball arrived. Late last night, she’d sent a note to the king since she hadn’t been able to speak with him privately, asking if they’d be wearing matching masks this evening. She was pleased to find his response when she awoke stating that she was free to wear whatever she wanted.
Originally, she’d planned to dress as a peacock or some form of elegant bird. However, in her dream last night, she danced with hundreds of beautiful butterflies. Unable to get the image out of her head, she quickly drew one on a piece of paper, deciding that she simply had to be a butterfly for the ball. She sent the drawing to the royal seamstress asking the woman to design a mask.
After dressing for the day, she went out onto her balcony. A light mist covered the nearby mountains like a soft, fuzzy blanket. Even though the sky was light, the sun had not yet risen high enough to see it. She breathed in the fresh air, reveling in the crispness of it. No heavy wheat or animal smells here in Lynk.
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” a deep voice said from behind her.
Her heart pounded as she jumped from fright, a yelp escaping her mouth. She spun around and saw a man dressed head to toe in black blocking the archway leading to her room. His legs were slightly bent as if he’d just jumped onto her balcony from up above.
“Forgive the intrusion,” he said, his gloved hands facing out in a placating gesture, “but I need to speak with you.” The only things visible were his pale green eyes.
She took a step back, away from him, hitting the railing.
He reached up, pulling his mask down, revealing his entire face.
Sabine recognized him as one of the men from the Avoni delegation. He was the youngest of the group and the one with the dark red hair. “Are you here to kill me?” she whispered, unable to speak any louder since she was so stunned. She couldn’t even scream for help.
His brows drew together in confusion. “Kill you?”
She nodded.
“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead instead of standing here talking to me.”
She slid her hand down her side, reaching for her dagger and not finding it strapped to her leg like it was supposed to be. Panicking, she glanced into her room and spotted Harta sneaking up behind him.
