It wouldn’t have been proper for me to stay where the royals did, not until Roman’s and my marriage was complete. As an American female in a foreign land, it would also not have been acceptable for me to live on my own.

  Never mind the fact I had lived on my own in New York for years.

  This rarely used configuration of apartments allotted me the space to live and rooms to learn. Months of classes as well as direction from Lady Buckingham were spent here. This setting was my introduction to life as a royal. My escape was the gardens. I’d always loved the outside but as a future royal, my safety was paramount. I couldn’t walk the sidewalks of Molave. Therefore, the paths that I strolled filled with flowers and trees within the security of the palace walls were my oasis.

  It wasn’t a stretch to assume that this was also where the palace would house the princess of Borinkia. I didn’t know which apartment until Isabella told me. Similar to my adventure down below the infirmary, I was again solo.

  I wouldn’t say I was going against any of the royals. No one had forbidden me from visiting the princess. Other than mentioning the possibility to the queen, I hadn’t asked.

  It had been two days since Roman visited her.

  While I thought he should visit again, the last we’d spoken, he’d said he hadn’t returned. In his defense, his schedule was increasingly full. The next few days would be the last of the parliament’s session before the holiday. King Theodore had Roman scheduled to make multiple speeches in committees as well as to the entire parliament.

  Despite not going back to see her, I could tell the presence of the Borinkian princess was a concern for my prince. I saw it in his eyes whenever she was mentioned. While King Theo was increasingly confident in Roman’s ability—both in relaying his message and not being questioned as to his identity, Roman’s confidence had waned since his one meeting with the princess.

  When I couldn’t get a feel for Inessa’s reaction from Isabella, I made myself a deal. If Roman didn’t go back to her, I would. She deserved to know what the plan was for her child.

  I couldn’t imagine that she’d want to stay in Molave or at the palace if she knew the queen’s intentions. My hope was to appeal to her, mother-to-be to mother-to-be.

  Outside the double doors to the apartment where Inessa was staying, I stopped, took a deep breath, and lifting my chin, knocked on the door. My visit was unannounced. There was no reason to believe the princess would be away from her apartments.

  An older woman answered, pulling the door inward. Her eyes opened wide before she curtsied. “Your Highness.”

  “I’ve come to speak with the princess.”

  The woman took a step back, unwilling and unable to forbid my entrance. However, her expression was not one that said welcome. “Ma’am, the princess doesn’t have you on her schedule.”

  “Is she not here?” I asked, looking around the front parlor.

  “I will inform her of your arrival.”

  “Thank you,” I said with all the graciousness I could muster.

  “Would you like some tea?”

  “No. I’ll wait for the princess.”

  “Please, Your Highness,” the woman said, gesturing toward the arrangement of chairs and loveseats. “You may rest. I’ll inform Princess Inessa.”

  Truth be told, the nerves that had been twisting tighter during my walk to these apartments disappeared the moment I stepped through the door. Queen Anne was right. Inessa wasn’t my concern. I was and am Roman’s wife, his princess and his future queen. If he was uneasy about confronting her, I would do it.

  My high-heeled boots clipped along the marble and sunk into the thick rugs as I walked around the room. There was nothing about my appearance to suggest I was expecting a child. The waist on my tweed slacks still fit without a problem—if anything I’d lost weight. Roman had been accurate, my breasts were larger, but not noticeably—to anyone but him. I had my long hair secured in a low ponytail and my long-sleeved blouse was fitted with tight cuffs and flowing arms.

  Flames radiated heat from the fireplace.

  I peered into the ashes, wondering if the shards from the princess’s temper tantrum were buried beneath or if some poor butler had been tasked with cleaning the hearth.

  With each passing minute, my ire grew.

  “Privet.”

  My ability to speak other languages was minimal, but I recognized the Russian greeting. Spinning around, my gaze met Inessa Volkov’s.

  “Hello, Inessa,” I replied with a smile.

  The color of her eyes was strikingly light, barely containing blue pigment. Her blond hair was in a topknot, and I’d apparently caught her before she had a chance to change. Her clothes were soft, comfortable, and baggy. Yet I could assess evidence of a baby in her petite form. As far as her clothes, I wasn’t certain if they were pajamas or lounging apparel. Her feet were covered in only socks.

  The princess’s forehead furrowed as she opened her eyes wider, her blond eyebrows almost invisible. “Lucille?”

  I nodded. “I believe we saw one another at Forthwith a few weeks ago.”

  “I don’t recall.” She lifted a throw pillow and held it in front of her as she settled on the couch with one leg beneath her.

  Taking her cue, I sat across from her, on the edge of the seat, my ankles crossed beneath the chair, and my hands in my lap. “Since you’re staying in my husband’s family’s home, I thought I should welcome you.”

  She lifted her chin.

  I’d come to her with good intentions; however, each second in her presence hit me wrong. I would do what I could for her child. That didn’t mean I was here to make a new friend. “Queen Anne has spoken about you.”

  Inessa moved the pillow and ran her hand over her larger midsection. “Mum is sweet. She’s happy about a grandchild.” She lifted her hand. “She gave me this beautiful bracelet.”

  Mum.

  I nodded. “She is happy about a grandchild. Roman and I are expecting. The heir to the Molave throne will be born next summer.”

  From the clenching of Inessa’s jaw, I assessed that Isabella had been honest about not sharing my condition with the princess.

  “My baby,” she said, “he’s coming sooner.”

  “Oh, do you know that you’re having a boy?”

  Inessa nodded. “The royal physician here in Molave, he did an ultrasound.” Her smile grew. “Boy.” Her faint eyebrow quirked. “Yours?”

  “We don’t know yet.”

  “Why are you here?”

  I shrugged. “I wanted to see you, speak to you.”

  “You don’t like me,” she said, her expression adding that the feeling was mutual.

  “I don’t know you, Inessa.” Saying her name still left a sour taste. “I feel bad for you. Your brother is upset because you have brought shame on your country, sleeping with a married man. My husband is over you. Honestly, you’re pathetic.”

  Okay, that wasn’t what I planned to say, but as the words came forward, I couldn’t or wouldn’t stop them.

  “Me?” She sneered. “Roman doesn’t want to be married to you. Yet you get pregnant to save a broken marriage. I think you should look in the mirror if you want to see pathetic.”

  Smiling, I clasped my hands. “Inessa, I’m going to be as brutally honest with you as I can. Queen Anne is interested in your child, so much so, she doesn’t want him to be raised in Borinkia. Should you choose to raise your child elsewhere, she will keep tabs on you and him. Regardless of the savage origin of his mother, that boy is believed to be a Godfrey.”

  “Savage?”

  “Your father’s treatment of the good people of Letanonia.”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t even born. My child and I don’t deserve to suffer for what was done long ago.”

  “You’re right. You don’t. Leave Molave. Go anywhere but Borinkia, and the queen and I will see that you’re taken care of, well taken care of. Your son will have the best education, and you will both live in comfort and safety.”

  She lowered her feet to the rug. “The queen doesn’t want me to leave Molave.”

  “It would be better if you did.”

  Her smile quirked. “It isn’t my problem if you can’t keep your husband happy, Princess. I won’t be the one to leave Molave—it will be you and your child. Go back to the States. Cry to the press. It won’t matter. When Roman and I marry, we will unite Borinkia and Molave.”

  I sucked in a deep breath.

  Delusional.

  She is crazy.

  “Inessa, I know you have no reason to believe me, but let me make this as clear as possible. Prince Roman and I are married. We’ve both made mistakes, but that doesn’t define our future—our future together. I am his wife, his princess, and one day will be his queen. My child will be our heir.”

  Inessa brought the pillow back in front of her. “Something isn’t right.”

  “You, you’re not right.”

  “No, Roman. He’s different.”

  “Correct,” I said, “he’s different. He’s decided to stay committed to me. Leave Molave while you can.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t threaten me.”

  “I’m not,” I answered, keeping my smile intact. “I’m giving you the best advice I can. For the sake of your child, leave. As long as that destination isn’t Borinkia, you will be fully supported.”

  Inessa stood. “I’m not a mistress to be dismissed. I am to be queen.”

  “You’re right. You’re not his mistress. You’re nobody.” It was my turn to shake my head. “He lied to you.” I stood. “I promise you, the next queen of Molave will be the daughter of Baroness Polina Astid, not a Borinkian whore.”

  Her lips opened. I took the opportunity of her speechlessness to excuse myself.

  As I reached for the doorknob, I heard her response.

  “You will not win.”

  Craning my neck over my shoulder, I broadened my smile. “I already have.”

  Lucille

  Beyond the windowpanes, a light flurry of snow swirled in the cold wind, reflecting like small crystals in the light of the streetlamps. The clock read close to eleven by the time Roman finally arrived back to our apartments. As soon as I heard him enter, I made my way to his side. Lord Martin stepped away as I entered, leaving us with a bow and wishes for a restful night.

  Despite the late hour, as I scanned from his head to his shoes, I was struck with how incredibly handsome my husband was, still dressed in his shirt and suit pants from dinner. The sleeves on his shirt were rolled to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms, and the splint on his right hand was smaller than he’d had this morning. The top button of his shirt was undone, and his tie in his hand, recently pulled from his collar.

  Wearing my dressing gown over my nightgown, I unceremoniously made my announcement. It was the one I’d been rehearsing since I left the Borinkian princess; nonetheless, it came out rather bluntly. “I visited Inessa today.”

  Roman spun toward me, an incredulous expression on his face. Dropping the tie on the floor, his hand went to his head, and his long fingers raked through his dark hair. “Fuck, Lucille. You could have said good evening before dropping that bomb.”

  I stood tall, straightening my shoulders. “Good evening, Your Highness. You weren’t going back to her, so I did.”

  “It has only been two days.” Inhaling, the prince paced back and forth.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as his dark stare intensified, darkening the brown irises or dilating the pupils. In the fire’s light, they looked like black holes pulling me in.

  “Roman, listen to me.” I walked toward him. When I stood in the way of his trek, he stopped. Laying my hands against his shoulders, I met his gaze. “Think about it. My husband’s mistress is under the same roof as us—all of us. She has claimed to be carrying your child. Who would expect me to not talk to her?”

  “Noah.”

  His answer took the wind from my sails. My hands dropped to my sides.

  Furrowing his forehead, Roman narrowed his gaze. “If I were Noah, would you have gone to her?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t answer that.”

  “Or you don’t want to answer.”

  In my bare feet, I stood decimeters shorter than my husband. It wasn’t only that my Roman towered over me. His shoulders were twice as wide as my own. He outweighed me by over forty kilograms. If the man before me hadn’t shown me that I could trust him at every turn, I could and would be frightened.

  If he were Noah…

  “Fine,” I said, stepping away. “You’re right. If you were…not you, I probably wouldn’t have done something that I knew would upset you.” Slapping my hands against my robe-covered thighs, I sighed. “Or I might have done it to garner your attention.”

  “You have my attention, Lucille. You’re admitting that you knew this would upset me.”

  Tucking my chin down, I looked up through veiled lashes. “I hoped it wouldn’t.”

  “Does Mum know?”

  “I don’t know. I went to the princess earlier this morning. I didn’t tell Queen Anne or Isabella. I didn’t mention it to anyone until now.”

  “Because…” He prompted.

  “Because if I would have mentioned it to you earlier, we would have had to table the subject until after dinner” —I looked around— “until now, and I knew you’d want to discuss it.”

  Clenching his jaw, Roman shook his head. “Damn it, Lucille. The princess is a liability.”

  “I agree.”

  “What did you say to her?” he asked.

  “I told her to leave Molave. I told her if she went anywhere except Borinkia, the queen and I would make sure she’s well taken care of.”

  “But you didn’t talk to Mum first?”

  “No. Queen Anne wants the princess here until the baby is born. I don’t agree. If you’re nervous about Inessa suspecting you’re different, then I say we get her out of here.”

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  “I told her we were expecting a child next summer.”

  Roman’s eyes widened as he shook his head.

  Scrunching my face and speaking fast, I added, “I said she shamed her country, was pathetic, and I might have added something about her being a nobody. But” —I opened my eyes wide— “I did reassure her that she would be well cared for—if the child is a Godfrey. Which we both know it isn’t.”

  The prince exhaled. “Answer me, Princess, how will antagonizing Inessa help?”

  “She will leave.”

  “Or she will dig in her heels.” He shook his head. “I fucking hate having to think like him.” Roman turned toward me. “For months I’ve worked to make Roman me, the man I am. I can’t be me with her. I have to be him.”

  “Could he be him?” I asked. “Noah?”

  “No,” Roman answered quickly. “For one, we don’t resemble one another as much anymore, and two, allowing Noah and Inessa to communicate seems like a very bad idea.”

  I again stepped closer, inhaling the aroma of Roman’s cologne mixed with his unique scent. Leaning into his chest, I smiled up at him as his heart thumped beneath my breasts, and I wrapped my arms around his torso. “She must leave. Queen Anne said if she lived anywhere but Borinkia she would only be watched.”

  “I spoke with Mrs. Drake about her yesterday.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  Roman shook his head and reached for my shoulders with both hands. “I wish I could remember every word I think of telling you throughout the day.”

  Leaning my face toward his right hand, I smiled. “I feel your grip.”

  He nodded. “It’s getting better each day.”

  “You think of me throughout the day?” I asked.

  “Only every second.” He sighed. “No more visits to Inessa.”

  At arm’s length, I could see the exhaustion on his face, the lines around his eyes and darkness below his eyes. “You’re tired.”

  “I am. Tonight after dinner I was informed that Papa delegated another meeting with the parliamentary committee on defense to me. I’ve spent the last few hours reading about Molave’s military.”

  “Another reason, my prince, why you shouldn’t be dealing with her. Let me.”

  “Papa wants to know what she knows.”

  “About what?” I asked as I picked up Roman’s tie from the floor and began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

  “I don’t know. I’ve quizzed Noah a hundred times. He swears he didn’t tell her that he was an impostor.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I do. He’s been…ill.”

  I took a step back. “Noah’s ill? With what?”

  Roman shook his head. “Mr. Davies said it’s a virus. I don’t know how he could have gotten it. He’s isolated from almost everyone.”

  “Maybe one of the medical staff?” I suggested.

  “Mr. Davies suggested I stay away until he’s better.” Roman sighed and sat on the bench near the end of his bed. “I shouldn’t care. There’s so much happening; he should be the least of my concerns.”

  Going toward him, I shook my head. “You’re right. You shouldn’t.” I sat at his side. “But you do.”

  Roman reached for my hand. “Lucille, some days I worry that I can’t do this.”

  My eyes opened and my mouth grew dry.

  He closed his eyes with a sigh. His attention went to our hands, turning mine in his. “I love you.” He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I already love our child.”

  Palming his cheek, I swallowed. “I can’t lose you.” Tears prickled the back of my eyes.

  “Do you remember asking me if I truly believed King Theo to be ruthless?”

  I nodded.

  “He has made ruthless decisions. Mrs. Drake presented me with one.”

  “What decision does she want you to make?”

  “She suggested that if I’m concerned about Inessa, there is an alternative.”

  “An alternative to keeping her here? Good. What is it?” As soon as the question left my lips, I knew the answer. I could read it in Roman’s expression. “No.” I stood and walked back and forth. “No, absolutely not.”