Page 9 of Pregnant at the Palace Altar

He had done the right thing. For his kingdom. For his legacy.

Whatever came next was Katerina’s choice, and he would not feel guilt over that.

He refused to.

Katerina stood stock-still and in place for long ticking minutes after Diamandis exited. She could scarcely catch a breath. She couldn’t think.

He had threatened everything. He had left her with some choice but it was no choice at all. Because he was a king, and she was a no one.

The only way to be someone, darling, is to align yourself to the right man.

Oh, how her mother would love this. Marrying a king. She’d likely crawl out of the woodwork and Katerina would have to deal with her, too.

How could this have all come crashing down so quickly? All because of a chance meeting at a baby store. If she’d stayed in her lane—poking around secondhand shops—she never would have seen the princess. Diamandis would have never known.

She wanted to wallow in the what-ifs, spend time self-flagellating over her mistakes, but Diamandis had given her fifteen minutes, and as much as she might have enjoyed thwarting him, she knew him. She had been his personal assistant for too long not to understand at least in part how his mind worked and what had shaped him to think that way.

He did not want a queen or children, but he would suffer through anything he didn’t want if he could avoid a scandal that might put a stain on the throne. He considered this his duty to his long-dead parents, and that was a duty he viewed as sacred.

So, yes, he would not be above getting her removed from her job, her apartment. He would not balk at taking her children from her, because in his mind there was only one right way: to have control over his heirs, and, for the sake of his royal subjects, the respectability of being married to their mother.

He had truly given her no choice, and if she faltered or hesitated, she would pay the price. She’d have to wait until they were back in Kalyva to wallow in her poor choices.

Fromthatnight on.

She went to her room and packed a few things, but she’d taken very little with her when she’d fled the palace and Kalyva. She’d bought even less since building a life in Athens. Still, she packed the few things she’d bought for the baby, her maternity clothes and toiletries. She gave her apartment one last look.

She could not say she’d enjoyed her time here. It had felt necessary, not fun or independent. But it had beenhers.

And now nothing would be.

She was tired and hungry. Weak and devastated. If she forced herself to look on the bright side, a stay in the palace would mean a comfortable bed and good food and someone else taking care of the details for a little bit.

Maybe once she rested, she’d have a clearer head and be able to come up with a way to get around Diamandis’s will. She had talked him out of things before. She only needed time to talk him out of things again.

She turned away from the life she’d built and walked down the stairs to the sidewalk. The commotion earlier must have been over the sleek car on the street, but it had since been cleared. The driver stood outside the car, as no doubt Diamandis would not risk being seen. He was not well known outside of Kalyva, but Greece was close enough that you never knew when someone might recognize you from old news stories about murdered royals.

The driver opened the door for her as she approached. “Christos,” she greeted with a small smile. Clearly Diamandis did not know that his driver-slash-bodyguard and his partner had been the ones to help her get off Kalyva without detection. “So good to see you again.”

He bobbed his head. “And you, Ms. Floros.”

She turned to the car and looked to the spacious back seat where Diamandis sat.

“If your ridiculous story is not believed by all and sundry, I will take my children and run and you will never,everfind me. I will not tolerate whispers, gossip, or ridicule for my children.”

“Nor will I, Katerina.”

She knew that was true to an extent, but she also knew he didn’t fully understand how people could twist things. How whispers could follow you, ruin you. Which brought her to her second condition.

“If my mother appears in any context, you will refuse to let her anywhere near me.”

Diamandis raised an eyebrow, and she knew this would give him reason to poke into the matter. Of course, he must know a little about her mother from the extensive background check he’d run before he’d hired her, but he likely thought himself above and immune to Ghavriella Floros’s machinations.

Katerina wasn’t so sure.

“As you wish,” he replied, unbothered. “Get inside the car, Katerina. There is much to do.”

Katerina gave one last backward glance at her apartment. At her life in Athens. No matter what happened next, she knew she would not be able to come back here. The door was closing on this chapter of her life.

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