Page 16 of The King's Secret Baby

“Sounds great.” I know it won’t wash away all the pain I’m feeling, but at least a day with my best friend will be a decent distraction.

“You can crash here, if you want.” She hands me the wine glass.

It’s so sweet of her, knowing that I’ll be incredibly sad and lonely tonight — but it also makes me feel shittier. I’m that sad, single friend, married to her career and not even committed to keeping a house plant — forget about a pet or a boyfriend.

Yep. I’m the person who has nothing to go home to, ladies and gentlemen.

“Auntie Hailey!” Lake barrels towards me in a whirlwind of blond curls and sticky fingers. I crouch down to scoop her and Howie into a hug, their innocent joy thawing some of the ice around my heart.

“Hey, munchkins! What trouble are you two causing today, hmm?”

“We’re playing castle! I’m the queen and Howie is my knight!” Lake proclaims proudly, plastic tiara askew on her head.

“Lucky queen to have such a brave knight,” I say with a smile I don’t quite feel. If only real life worked out so neatly.

“All right, kiddos, Mommy needs to talk to Auntie Hailey now. Why don’t you go set up a tea party for us and we’ll be there in fifteen minutes?”

They scamper off with delighted giggles, and Millie loops her arm through mine, leading me to the overstuffed couch.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

I take a long sip, the rich merlot warming my throat. “I waited, Millie. For two hours, like an idiot. He never showed.”

She rubs my arm soothingly. “I’m sure there’s an explanation. Maybe an emergency came up with his family? Or he got stuck in a meeting?”

I shake my head, throat tight. “He could have called my office. Gotten my cell number there.”

“Are they allowed to give that out?” She frowns.

“Well… no. But there’s someone answering the phones on Saturday. If he had called, they would let me know.” The tears threaten again and I blink them back angrily. “It’s fine. It’s probably for the best. I mean, who was I kidding? Thinking I could have some whirlwind romance with an actual prince?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Guys like Luca don’t end up with girls like me. I was fooling myself to ever think otherwise.”

Millie frowns, opening her mouth to object, but I hold up a hand to stop her. I can’t handle her well-meaning platitudes and pep talks right now.

“I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, Mill, I really do. But can we just… not talk about him anymore today? I think I need to lick my wounds in peace for a bit.”

Understanding fills her eyes and she nods, giving my hand a squeeze. “Of course. Whatever you need.” She stands up, mustering a bright smile. “Now, I believe we have some very impatient royalty waiting for us. Shall we go see what Her Majesty demands?”

I drain the rest of my wine and set the glass down with a determined clink. Broken heart or not, I refuse to wallow. Time to paste on a smile and go play pretend.

If only I could convince myself that this ache in my chest is make-believe too.

CHAPTER 9

LUCA

The funeral suit hangs on the wardrobe like a specter, black fabric seeming to suck all light and joy from the room. My fingers tremble slightly as I button the crisp white shirt, fumbling with the onyx cuff links.

Each step of dressing feels heavy, weighed down by the grim reality of what this day holds. My father, my king, lying cold and lifeless, about to be sealed away forever. It still doesn’t feel real.

I stare at my reflection — pale face, shadows beneath red-rimmed eyes, golden hair combed into rigid submission. The picture of a grieving son and solemn future monarch. But inside I’m screaming, raging against the cruelty of fate that ripped him away too soon.

A quiet knock at the door interrupts my spiraling thoughts. “Sir?” Stefan peeks his head in. “It’s nearly time.”

I nod curtly, not trusting my voice not to crack. Shrugging on the jacket, I take a shuddering breath, trying to steel myself. But how can I possibly be ready to lay my father to rest? To take his place on the throne, when all I want is to beg him not to leave me?

Our last conversation plays through my mind for the thousandth time. I’d been so rude to him, so unwilling to listen and see his point of view. Yet even though I acted like a brat, he still took it upon himself to tell me I wasn’t a disappointment, that I “never could be” — his last words to me.

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