Page 37 of His Hidden Royal Heirs

“That is enough, Zia,” the king said, speaking over her. “Cristhian and I will discuss this matter in private.”

Zia looked at Cristhian then, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing. But his expression was carefully blank. She knew he was controlling, that he thought he knew best. She knew he could belikeher father, but surely he wouldn’t honestly secret off with her father and handle things without her havinganysay?

“Very well,” Cristhian said, pointing toward the hallway. “Follow me, sir.”

The king stormed after Cristhian and Zia was left with her mother and her sister, a few staff members she didn’t recognize. And the sinking sensation that she was drowning. In a world she’d thought she’d escaped.

A young woman among them cleared her throat. “I’d be happy to show the queen and the princess to their suite.”

“Beau will stay with me,” Zia said, blinking away the tears, the utter disappointment in Cristhian.

“But Mr. Sterling said—”

“The princess will be staying in my suite with me,” Zia interrupted, using all her royal training to sound as commanding as Cristhian no doubt did. She smiled at the woman though, trying to sort through all her conflicting feelings.

Because as much as her heart ached, she blamed herself for that. For having some sort of hope when it came to the man she’d somehow...trusted. But why? Why had she trusted him when he’d shown her, over and over again, exactly what he was?

But mixed in with all that disappointment was utter relief. Because Beau was here, and if Beau was here that meant Zia could find a purpose in all this pain. “The three of us will have tea in the conservatory, if someone will bring it up?”

The woman nodded and quickly disappeared.

“Follow me,” Zia said to her mother and sister, heading for the stairs.

“Zia. You cannot just...take us to some conservatory and not address the...the...the issue at hand,” her mother sputtered.

“Which is?” Zia asked innocently. Beau made a sound that Zia knew was her coughing to try to cover up a laugh. Because this was familiar ground. Her and Beau against the world. It would be okay. They would find a way to make it okay together.

They linked arms and Zia started up the stairs, but Beau looked back to make sure Mother was following. The queen was not happy, but she was following.

Beau leaned close. “He lives in a castle,” she whispered.

“Right? He calls it a cottage. What rot.”

Beau laughed again, earning them a sharp look from their mother. It was so familiar Zia almost felt herself relax. She led them both into the conservatory, offering seats. Beau took oneimmediately, but Mother didn’t. She stood at the entrance to the room, shaking her head.

“Zia, I do not understand any of this. What has happened?”

Zia considered different versions of the truth but decided to go with the most simple and straightforward. “Cristhian and I met months ago. During—what did you call it?—myresponsibility vacationwe...hit it off. When I learned I was pregnant a few months after, I did not know how to find him. Or break it to Father. Or anyone, frankly. So I ran away.”

“Pregnant,” Mother echoed. “By some man you didn’t even know.”

Mother made it sound like she’d murdered someone in cold blood, and maybe in Mother’s world it was all the same. A stain on the monarchy no matter what.

And that was all that mattered, wasn’t it?

“I know him now well enough,” Zia said, trying to be gentle about it. How could she blame her mother for being shocked and appalled? Cristhian had dumped this on them with no warning.

“And I suppose in some strange twist of fate, I have Father to thank for that.” Was it a thank-you in her current predicament? It didn’t feel it. “When Father hired Cristhian to track me down, Cristhian did not know who I was. Until he recognized me. He did not know about the babies until he found me and—”

“Babies? Zia.” Mother sat then, all but collapsing into the chair, her hand to her heart. “Twins.”

“Yes,” Zia agreed. “Twins.” She gave Beau a little smile, because especially now she was so grateful her children would have each other.

“My pregnancy was horrible,” Mother said, almost to herself. She even placed a hand over her stomach. “I was so sick. So afraid. Constantly on bed rest. It was why we never had more children though your father would have liked a boy.”

Zia smiled thinly. Mother had regaled them of tales of her terrible pregnancy, but she tried not to think of that. Or the boy that they all believed would have made their lives better. “Mine has been very uneventful. The doctor tells me all the time how lucky I am that we’re all so healthy.”

“Yes. Incredibly so.” Mother finally looked at her.Reallylooked at her. Her eyes filled. “Zia, darling, why would you keep something like this from me?”

---