Page 38 of His Hidden Royal Heirs

Zia watched her mother fight back the tears, fascinated. Mother cried quite a lot, really. Always in private, of course. Thepublicmask of Queen Rendall was impenetrable, emotionless. Grace and detachment above all else.

Zia never confused the two faces her mother wore, they were so intrinsically different. The public, perfect queen the king demanded. And the interior woman so afraid of going against him.

But right now, in this moment, Zia felt confused. She had expected recriminations—no doubt that would come. She had expected her mother’s upset...but over the public image. Over the king’s reaction.

Not Zia nottellingher. There were so many things over the years she hadn’t shared with her mother.

Namely, for one reason. “How could I tell you? I knew how Father would react. Which meant that would be how you would react as well. So I had to handle things on my own.”

“Your own?” Mother scoffed, narrowed her eyes at Beau. “I hardly think so.”

But before any more discussion could be had, two staff members entered with trays and quietly and quickly set up the tea for three women, then disappeared. Zia moved forward to pour, but Mother waved her off.

“Well. We must focus on the current situation we are in, not a past that cannot be changed. A small intimate ceremony isnecessary for your condition, of course, but there must besomeroyal formality.”

Zia watched her mother pour the tea gracefully, while Beau piled her plate high with a little bit of everything food-wise. Zia had been starving, but now her appetite left her.

“Mother. I don’t care what Cristhian says, what he thinks he’s planning with Father. I will not be marrying him.”

“Zia.” Mother set the tea pot down with aclank. “You’repregnant.”

“Oh, you don’t say.”

But Mother was so worked up, she didn’t even send Zia a censuring glance. Or Beau one when she laughed. She stood instead, wringing her hands together. “You must marry. And you’ll have to stay out of sight for... Oh, I don’t even know how long. No one can know...” She trailed off again, but the wringing hands certainly didn’t stop. “Your father...” Again she trailed off.

“Alternatively,” Zia replied, trying to maintain her calm and composure. There was really no point in lashing out at her mother. She was simply a vessel for Father’s wants and desires. “I will not marry, but I can happily stay out of sight...forever.”

“You’re the heir,” her mother said, soscandalizedandhorrifiedthat being an heir might not be something Zia was going to prioritize. Not over her children.

Children. She settled her hand over her stomach. She knew her mother meant well, and yet she had caused harm to both Zia and Beau. Was that the curse of a mother? No matter how hard you tried, you would hurt your children?

Would twenty-some years down the line the two little lives growing inside her look at her and wonder why she’d denied them a legacy? Parents who were married? Or would her loving them be enough?

Because Cristhian had talked about loving his parents, and she was sure he did. Sure they sounded lovely and loving. Butsometimes the image of them sounded...too good to be true. Or at least, the story as told from a child, which he had been when he’d lost them.

“I heard this crazy rumor that the king gets to choose whatever heir he likes,” Beau said, interrupting Zia’s thoughts on motherhood. The doubts that continued to creep up, no matter how certain she was in her choice of action.

Shouldshe marry Cristhian...for them? Would that create a kind of insulated safety? Hewascontrolling, but he claimed to want the children to come first. That was certainly not in her parents’ vocabulary.

Mother whirled on Beau and shot her a sharp look. “I told your father we should leave you at home.”

“What’s-his-name insisted I come. He was quite adamant,” Beau said, sniffing a sandwich before taking a delicate bite.

Zia stared at her sister, more than surprised by this information. Beau didn’t really need to be here, and itwashighly unlikely either parent had wanted her here. Had Cristhian insisted...for her? “He did?”

Beau looked at her speculatively. “Yes. That’s what Father said anyway. He made certain I knew I wasn’t wanted on this trip.”

Zia sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. Oh, what kind of idiot was she? It didn’t matter. Cristhian was trying to force her into a wedding. Any gesture that seemed kind was either by accident or to purposefully get under her defenses.

She couldn’t keep falling for that. “Well, we are all here now. And now we must decide how to proceed.” She couldn’t capitulate to Cristhian now. It would be like capitulating to Father. “Because I will not marry him. No matter what Cristhian says. No matter whatFathersays.”

“You were going to marry the crown prince, Zia,” Mother pointed out. “How is this different? A step down, of course, but—”

“A step down?” Zia scoffed, then inwardly berated herself for defending Cristhian when she had no reason to. But at least she hadchemistrywith Cristhian. At least they’d had conversations and...well, sex. If she was going to marry anyone...

But she wasn’t. “Mother. I appreciate that me not marrying might make things...difficult for Father. But he is theking. I’m sure he’ll weather the storm, and as Beau said, choose whatever heir he likes in the wake of me abdicating.”

The queen just kept shaking her head. “You must marry the father of your children. They must be legitimate. They have kingdoms to inherit, Zia. How can you be so selfish?”

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