Page 39 of His Hidden Royal Heirs

Selfish. Yes, that kept being used against her, and maybe it was fair. She did not know how to deny it. She wantedsomethings for herself. Some agency. Some freedom. Maybe that was just as wrong as her mother bowing and scraping. She genuinely didn’t know.

She just knew she could not bow. She could not scrape. For herself, maybe, but first and foremost for her children.

Her children would not suffer.Theywould not be made to bow and scrape. Maybe Cristhian wouldn’t expect that of them, but he was currently meeting with a man who would. Who would try everything to have an influence over them if Cristhian did not stand up to him here and now.

She had to protect them, just as she had protected Beau for all these years. It was her responsibility.

“The kingdomIam meant to inherit has only ever been a threat and punishment used against me.” She met her mother’s gaze then. “I will not do the same to my children. Maybe that is a mistake—”

“Maybe?”

“But it is my mistake to make.”

Mother shook her head. “You fancy yourself very strong and very modern.” Tears were in her eyes again. “You’ll stand up to your father, to the world that built you?” She laughed. Bitterly. “They will crush you, Zia. I don’t know why I could never teach either of you that bending keeps you from getting crushed.”

“Why is bending better than crushed?” Beau asked. And Zia wanted to know the answer, but she also knew it wasn’t the time to ask. One of those differences between the two of them. One of those reasons Beau would not be named heir.Timingwasn’t in her vocabulary.

But Lillewasmodern enough. Father did have the right and law behind him to choose an heir of his own making. Maybe he wouldn’t like it, but it did nothaveto be Beau replacing her.

So why did she feel so guilty? Why did bending suddenly seem like it was on the table? Because if she bent... Beau wouldn’t suffer. If Cristhian could bend a little to keep her father out of this, perhaps the children wouldn’t suffer.

Could she find compromise in a man who seemed to have none?

Mother shook her head, whirled around and exited the room in a huff.

Zia closed her eyes, wishing she could take a nap. Instead, she had to leverage herself up out of this chair. “I should show Mother to her room.”

But Beau put a hand over her arm. “She’ll find some staff person to do it. Long before we get you out of that chair.”

Zia laughed in spite of herself, but Beau continued.

“Because Mother is right. You can’t just stand up to them, Zia. We don’t have that kind of power. Theywillcrush us if we try. So we’re going to have to have a plan. We’re going to have to escape.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CRISTHIANDIDN’TCAREfor the realization that the more time he spent with King Rendall, the less he liked the man. It wasn’t just that he was demanding and pompous and, well,royalin all those negative ways Cristhian had grown up hating.

It was the way the king spoke of the women in his family. As though they were nothing more than pawns to be moved about a board. Cristhian could picture, all too easily, his mother’s family talking the same way about her when she hadn’t done what she’d asked, about him when he’d been an orphaned child.

It filled him with a boiling anger he knew he needed to keep control over, but it was a struggle. Anotherslight he could lay at Zia’s feet, once this was all over and they were married.

Settled. Once everything was settled just the way he wanted, the anger, the frustration, this damn uncertainty would go away. Everyone would be safe, and he would be able to relax.

“King Rendall,” Cristhian said, after the king had gone on and on about royal weddings and whatnot. “I think you’ve misunderstood me. You are not in charge here.”

The king narrowed his eyes at Cristhian from his seat in an luxurious overstuffed leather chair seated in the corner of Cristhian’s office. “It is not customary foranyoneto address the king in such a manner.”

“I am not a subject of your country,” Cristhian replied, standing behind his desk. Then smiled and tacked on asir.

The king was clearly not placated. “Do you have proofyouare the father of these children?”

Cristhian didn’t let the insult land. “I will,” he responded calmly.

“I suppose your name and pedigree comes with a certain amount of...reach.”

Cristhian felt he was holding his own in this ridiculous back-and-forth, but this change of topic was...confusing at best. “Reach?”

“Hisla is a small country.”

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