Page 48 of Coronation
The quiet chime of the alarm on my phone sends my heart into my throat as I turn on my heel, hurrying into the bathroom, desperate to finally put this horrifying possibility to rest. My hands, which were so shaky a minute ago, are perfectly steady as I seize the pregnancy test.
Negative, negative, negative.
No. Not negative.
Positive.
The entire world seems to still as I stare at the test, my lips moving as I silently read the word printed on the tiny screen.
Pregnant. I’m pregnant.
I’m having a baby, and its father is the King of Stelland.
Have we seen the first crack in King Benedict’s notoriously frosty facade?
By now, it is common knowledge that His Royal Highness King Benedict (41), isn’t what many of his people would describe as “warm.” His obvious disdain for human emotion is well documented, earning him nicknames ranging fromHis Royal BitternesstoBenedict the BlandtoThe Crown Frown,and a historically low approval rating of only 26%. In the eighteen months since he took the throne, we haven’t found a single flaw in His Majesty’s proverbial wall of ice—until now.
Pictures snapped Sunday afternoon at a party in Ashwell Palace’s rose garden caught the king in an unprecedented moment of admiration, directed toward a very unlikely source.
Zelda Flowers (25), an American actor best known for her roles inThe Ghost of EverdeenandWallflowers United, appears to be the woman responsible for the king’s display of something other than frostbite. In attendance with several of her co-stars, the young starlet is seen in the image above, crossing paths with Stelland’s notoriously cold-blooded king.
Despite his raging unpopularity among the public, this brief flicker of human interest sparked swift and wild speculation. Was this merely an ill-timed glance or the first hint at a royal romance? Only one thing is certain: Zelda Flowershas done what the Palace Press Corps couldn’t—made King Benedict interesting.
Could Hollywood’s it-girl be thawing Stelland’s coldest heart?
Stay tuned for updates on the rumored royal romance.
Twenty
Benedict
“Sir, we cannot stress enough how important it is that we haveallthe information.”
I must really have done it this time, because Preston Thomas brought backup. He is flanked on either side by a pair of grim, blue-suited press staffers, and resting atop the table between us is a single newspaper. The image on the front page is one of my face, not scowling or expressionless as I’m typically depicted, but filled with undisguised longing for the woman passing me.
I stared at the photograph for a full minute when it landed on my desk, taken off guard by the sight of my face in such an unfamiliar expression. Even without a clear memory of the moment it was taken, it’s obvious what I was thinking as I looked at Zelda Flowers.
It looks like I want her, and apparently, every dubious celebrity news source in the world agrees.
Peering over the table at me imploringly, my always red-faced press director is even more flushed than usualand has lifted his handkerchief to his brow so many times since we sat down that the unfortunate rag must be drenched by now.
“It’s alook,” I bite back, so annoyed at being called into this meeting that I don’t particularly care if I sound like a petulant child. “It must be a slow news cycle. They’ll drop it soon enough.”
The thought of sitting here for even one more minute, discussing Zelda Flowers, while the ache of regret and loss is still so acute, is terrible. Unfortunately, this statement does nothing to lessen the tense expressions on all three palace PR officials’ faces.
On the contrary, Thomas lifts his handkerchief yet again, dabbing at his hairline, his expression full of poorly suppressed panic. “Sir, it’s critical that you tell us if you met Miss Flowers before your visit to the set ofThe Dark House, and if so, what the nature of your relationship was. It will greatly inform how we proceed in our handling of this.”
I hesitate, biting my tongue as I consider how best to respond. While I have no intention of telling them theactuallocation of our meeting, it seems ill-advised to deny it did occur before my brief tour of her workplace.
The look on my face as I looked at Zelda makes it obvious she is much more to me than a casual acquaintance. Then, there’s the fact that we were out in public together while staying at Fernmoor House. Our disguises were flimsy at best, and it isn’t outside the realm of possibility that someone looking through their pictures of the pub from that night could spot me in the background with my arms around a slight, dark-haired woman.
Amidst the raging public speculation about my relationship with Zelda, such an image would surely fetch a hefty sum. It would also invalidate any claims either of us made thatthe lookwas merely the result of my love of the deserts just out ofcamera view, or whatever nonsense Thomas and his team cook up.
For once, the media has it spot on, and I have nothing to gain by lying about it.
Wishing I’d had the foresight to take headache medication before entering this meeting, I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Yes. I met her before.”
Ringing silence follows this, and Thomas looks nothing short of mortified. “Were you—please pardon me, sir—but have you beenintimatelyacquaintedwith Miss Flowers?”
