"I see that Aldland wasted no time in making their opinion known," Holly said sourly. "I hate those guys. I had to do an interview, preparing for the trade summit, and I swear the guy was an absolute creep. Kept looking at my blouse, you know the way. I finally had to ask if I'd dropped some mustard or something to get him to stop staring so obviously."

  "Creep barely scratches the surface," Clara said, seeing yet another article and growling softly. "And listen to this! ‘Aldland is disappointed in Fervia's openness to outside influence. The young prince has only been engaged for a month... if he is this easily influenced, perhaps its best that he be removed from political decisions altogether, as well as’... oh my God!"

  Holly blinked. "What?"

  "He's saying that Erik should basically be banished! What an utter, unspeakable arse!" Clara hissed. She forced herself to take deep breaths, then took a fortifying cup of tea. "It's not fair. It simply isn't fair."

  "Who said politics was fair?" Holly said with a wry grin.

  “Well, this is more than unfair. This is petty, and pointless,” Clara said. She forced herself to eat a few spoonfuls of yogurt. It really was tasty—creamy vanilla yogurt, with fresh berries and obviously homemade granola. She sighed softly. Thank God the morning sickness had largely passed.

  "Pointless, why?" Holly asked.

  Clara bit her lip. "Holly—can I trust you?"

  Holly nodded. "I promise. We've known each other a while, and even if we didn't, I take my journalistic ethics seriously. I'm not going to put you in a bad position, just for a story. I couldn't live with myself."

  Clara believed her. She took another deep breath, then leaned forward, pitching her voice low. "The Aldland trade delegation has signed the agreements. They weren't happy, and the provisions they wanted—which were bigoted and homophobic and transphobic and, God, you wouldn't believe the list of things they wanted to hit with economic punishment—anyway, they were removed."

  "Ugh. It doesn't surprise me at all that they'd have those kinds of tariffs," Holly said, rolling her eyes. "It's so funny, how they decry 'moral decency' while they're trying to X-ray through your bra, I swear."

  "I know!" Clara agreed, shaking her head. "I almost wish I'd seen them when they had to swallow those provisions, but I wasn't at that meeting."

  Holly's eyebrows went up.

  "I'd caused enough problems the day before," Clara explained.

  "But you want to be a politician," Holly said, so simply that it almost hurt Clara's heart. "And from what I've heard, you clarified very salient points. Why would you miss the next day's meeting? I'd have thought you wanted to show them they couldn't cow you."

  "You see the comics, the articles. They're already giving Erik a hard time about all of this. I didn't want to make things worse for him."

  Holly nodded, but she looked sad. "I say this because I care," she said cautiously, then continued, "but Erik is a grown man."

  "And?" Clara asked, blinking with surprise.

  "And he can take care of himself," Holly said.

  "He wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for me, though," Clara protested. "I was the one who interjected herself into the discussion, who forced their hands. And I can guarantee the King was none too thrilled that I decided to step up and make a trade negotiation The Clara Show!"

  "Were you, though?" Holly protested. "Erik said he wanted you there. If the King had a problem with it, he could have kept you out of it."

  "I think he expected me to sit there and look pretty, though," Clara said with a sigh. "And he certainly didn't mind me missing the next day's meeting."

  "He's a traditionalist," Holly agreed, sipping her own latte. "In the few years I've been covering Fervia, I do know that he's staunchly protective of his family, and this country. I can't imagine him pushing hurtful legislation. He's not a hard-liner."

  "Still, I'm not a Fervian yet." Clara felt disappointment settle in her chest. "And even when I do marry Erik, I don't want to be the reason for his father's disappointment, you know?"

  Holly surprised her with a laugh. "Dear, that man went to university to study music, when every other royal son of Fervia went into some kind of international diplomacy or business or similar major," she said. "He even had a gap year that he spent traveling through South America and Asia, learning more about traditional music and electronic music, of all things. He's not what the King had expected for a son, that's for sure. I sincerely doubt that he's going to be disappointed that Erik married a woman who is actually interested in politics."

  Clara nibbled away at her yogurt, unsure of how to feel about that. She knew that Erik's choice of study had been unconventional, but she hadn't realized just how much he'd swam against the current with that particular choice. "So, you think the King might approve of me for Erik?"

  "I would think he'd be pleased to have you as a daughter-in-law."

  Clara grinned. "You're just saying that because you're my friend."

  "Well, I would like to think I'm your friend," Holly agreed. "But I also think it's true. Are you ready for the gala tonight?"

  "Yes. The royal stylist got me this amazing mermaid dress, you won't..."

  Before she could finish the sentence, she saw her own face pop up on the television screen. Obviously, the morning show was discussing her. "I'm sorry, Johann. Could you turn that up, please?"

  Johann quickly got the remote, turning up the volume. The show's female host was discussing the party headquarters where Clara had volunteered. "So, late breaking news out of England. Popular politician Terrence Abercrombie is now in the middle of a scandalous affair with one of his former aides, who turned up pregnant and confronted him at a presser where he was announcing his re-election bid."

  Clara gasped, turning to Holly. "Do you remember him? Oh my God! I was working the office when he was starting his first election run!"

  "I interviewed him," Holly agreed. "But why...?"

  Clara's picture flashed back up. "Since Abercrombie's dirty secret has emerged, other women with whom he had a sexual relationship are emerging. It looks like Mr. A was busy!" the male host said with a too-boisterous laugh.

  "I do wonder how he had time to legislate," the female host agreed, with a cat-like, vicious smile. "And it turns out the future Fervian princess, Clara Campbell, was a volunteer in his very campaign, just a few years ago."

  "It also turns out," the male host said, his tone salacious, "Ms. Campbell had to leave the campaign before he had finished his run, abandoning the party headquarters and her volunteering duties for a number of months. Why?"

  Clara's mouth fell open.

  "The official reason is apparently 'medical reasons,' which seems conveniently vague," the female host said.

  "Medical reasons can cover a lot of ground," the male host said. "I mean, pregnancy is technically a medical concern."

  "Not that anyone is saying that Ms. Campbell was pregnant," the female host added quickly, as if she suddenly remembered the potential legal liability of the situation. "But there doesn't seem to be any corroborating evidence behind her alleged illness, so it does make you wonder, doesn't it? It wasn't like she'd stopped working at her day job. She'd simply stopped volunteering for the campaign."

  "It certainly makes me think twice," the male host said.

  Clara felt tears stinging her eyes. "But it was..." She turned to Holly. "I had a terrible case of bronchitis, for God's sake! It seemed like I spent the better part of two months having trouble breathing, coughing like a smoker, and collapsing into bed at every opportunity. I would have taken more time off work, too, but I didn't have the time and I needed to pay bills, so obviously I couldn’t prioritize working for free. What would they have me do? What the hell are they expecting?"

  "Someone got fed this story," Holly said darkly. "Let me see if I can ferret around a bit, but I'll bet that Aldland did some digging, and decided to give you a hard time. That Terrence got caught was simply something they could take advantage of."

  "Oh, God." Clara felt the blood leave her face. "Erik. He's going to hear about this... he's going to think..."

  "No," Holly said quickly. "Erik will trust you. And he'll believe you."

  "But it's going to make him look bad." Clara’s stomach knotted. It seemed like every time she turned around, her presence, and her attempts at helping Erik, just exploded in her face like grenades.

  "I told you that he loves you," Holly said reassuringly. "Why don't you go up to the castle, talk to him before the gala? I'm sure you'll be able to get things cleared up. And if you decide you don't want to go to the gala—if, indeed, Aldland is behind all this—then that's fine. But either way, forewarned is forearmed, and communication is a key in any relationship. Talk to him."

  Clara nodded. “You're good at this."

  "Married for five years now," Holly said with a grin. "I'm still learning, but it's nice to share some of the lessons, you know?"

  "All right," Clara joked, "but if Erik decides I'm too much trouble and kicks me out, I'm going to crash in your living room until I can make my way back to London."

  "If he kicks you out, I'll put you up in our spare, like you were my very own aunt," Holly promised, making Clara laugh, a broken, jagged sound. "Now go on. You'll feel better for it."

  If only that were true, Clara thought. But she paid the bill, then had the driver take her back up to the castle. She'd discuss this all with Erik, and they'd figure out what to do next, about Aldland, about Erik's reputation, about Clara's future role in the Fervian royal court... about everything.

  15

  Erik was back in his father's study, this time flanked by Pelle. At least he knew what he was here for: not that he was in trouble, per se, but that the woman that he had brought to Fervia to marry was in trouble. It was time for damage control, and even as a political novice, Erik knew that much.

  "It wasn't her fault," Erik said as his opening gambit.

  Pelle's eyebrow went up, and he looked at their father, who sighed heavily.

  "All right, the trade summit thing was technically her fault," Erik conceded. "But she was simply saying what I think we should have been saying in the first place. What Aldland was trying to shoehorn into the agreement was outrageous, their attempt at being sly and sneaking it in was shameless, and they needed to have that challenged."

  "No one's saying that her stance wasn't correct," his father said, looking tired. "There's just... there's a way to do these things, Erik. And the people of Aldland tend to be very old-fashioned in their approach to policy and diplomacy."

  "They're living in the dark ages," Erik said, gritting his teeth a little. "The man actually said we shouldn't have women at the proceedings. Is this really who we want to be having a trading bloc with?"

  "We got the concessions we wanted. Take the win, Erik," his father said sharply, and Erik backed down a little. "If you had been more involved with trade negotiations in the past, you'd know that we've learned how to handle countries like Aldland. It usually takes a little flattery, and some back and forth, but you know I would never agree to anything that prejudicial."

  Erik nodded. "Mother would have gone absolutely mad if you had," he said.

  His father's face pinched, a sharp, involuntary melancholy. His mother had been a staunch supporter of people’s rights. "Yes, she would have," he said, in a quiet voice. For a second, all three men sat silent, sharing how much they missed her in that moment of quiet.

  Pelle was the one who broke the silence first. "Why did you call us here, Father?"

  This surprised Erik, who figured that Pelle was here to side with the King.

  "Just because the trade agreement was salvaged doesn't mean there isn't still fallout," his father rumbled, his eyebrows knit together in a frown. "One that quite simply and exhaustively focuses on your... girlfriend."

  "Fiancée," Erik countered. "And please tell me that you don't believe that manufactured crap about her having some kind of affair with that London politician several years ago!"

  His father waved his hand. "No, of course not," he said. "But it's not going to be the only story released."

  Erik goggled. "What?"

  "There is a targeted smear campaign against Clara," his father pointed out. "Erik, you may have ignored politics, but even you must realize just how much of a hornet's nest she's stirred up. Aldland has set up a hit on her, from a publicity standpoint. They are angry with her, and afraid of her future influence."

  Erik's jaw dropped. "And we can't stop them?"

  "Not if we don't know what they're going to do," Pelle said, shaking his head. "They've been very underhanded, employing sophisticated techniques. They are seeding all sorts of rumors. And it's only going to get worse."

  Erik's blood went cold. "We have to stop this," he said, his voice firm with resolve. "I have to protect her. She can't bear this kind of stress. It won't be good for her or the baby!"

  "About that..." His father looked strangely sympathetic. "When were you planning on having the wedding? Because, being honest, you might want to reconsider it."

  "The timing of the wedding? We were thinking soon, in the next month. I know it's hasty, but she doesn't want to get too big for the wedding dress." He chuckled, thinking of their conversation, her outrage. "I think she's beautiful regardless, but she said that she thought it would be inappropriate, and besides, she would feel like a waddling duck."

  "The image would be ammunition."

  Erik startled.

  "They're already thinking that you are marrying too quickly, and anyone who does the math on the pregnancy will know why," his father said. "At this point, it will be throwing gasoline on a fire they've already started. Is this really what you want to put her through?"

  "Wait. What are you suggesting?" Erik said sharply.

  His father sighed, then turned to Pelle, as if for help.

  "I adore Clara, you have to know that," Pelle said, sounding reluctant. "But... is marrying Clara really what's best for her? Or you, for that matter?"

  Erik's eyes popped wide. "Are you kidding?" He glanced between the two of them and saw there was absolutely no trace of amusement on either of their faces.

  "I know I told you that we needed an heir, to cement the line of succession," Pelle said mournfully. "But in light of recent events..."

  "Her baby will still be an heir," his father said. "It's unconventional, but look at your friend Nic. He's getting married after the fact, and the child was out of wedlock. The bloodline is more important than the details of the marital status, anyway, and we're certainly not as old-fashioned as all that."

  "You're saying that Fervia—and Aldland—will be perfectly happy with me being a bachelor with a bastard child that we're planning on putting on the throne?" he asked.

  "Erik! No need to be crude," his father snapped. “Besides… I imagine you wouldn’t remain a bachelor forever.”

  He was talking about marrying someone else. Erik glared at him. “We’re having a daughter,” he pointed out, his voice a rough growl. “I suppose Aldland and others of their ilk will probably have a problem with having a woman as next in line for the throne?”

  “You might also have other children,” his father said, and Erik could feel his eyes blaze.

  "What we're saying," Pelle interjected, obviously trying to head off a brawl, "is that you might want to think about your options."

  "I don't need to think about my options," Erik said tightly, "because I love her."

  He froze.

  Wait. He loved her?

  Well, of course, he loved her. He just hadn't thought about it in those terms. He had started falling in love from the minute he'd met her at that wedding reception, it seemed, and every moment he'd been with her since—their nights in London, their karaoke, all the time they'd spent together in the past few months... it had all only showed him how lucky he was, how special she was.

  "You can't ask me to dump Clara just for the sake of political expedience," he said, his voice so sharp it could have drawn blood.

  "What about protecting her?" Pelle asked softly. "Would you break up with her then?"

  Erik blinked. "What do you mean?"

  "Have you ever thought about why Aliana has taken such a private role in the governing of our country?" Pelle asked. "She's brilliant in her own right, an absolutely genius tactician who has helped develop any number of political strategies to benefit Fervia. But few people know that."

  "Why is that?" Erik said. "I'd never even seen her in a trade meeting before the day Clara blew up. I was impressed."

  "She has social anxiety," Pelle admitted. "She prefers to be behind the scenes. Beyond that, I want to protect her. The tabloids were largely kind to her when we wed, because she was Fervian, but let's face it, scandal and turmoil sell, and they would try to push that if Aliana had more of a public profile."

  "So you're saying if I want to marry Clara—if I want to protect her—then I need to keep her on the sidelines?"

  "To be honest, her having such a high public profile doesn't help," his father interjected. "You said that you wanted to contribute more to the family, from a political standpoint. As long as she's in the spotlight, it will only make matters worse by pointing out that you are not in that position."

  "That's ridiculous."

  "They see you as weak; they see her as dangerous." His father's voice was like a clap of lightning, ringing in its vehemence. "They're going to target her. And then God help you both."

  Erik wanted to say that his father was being melodramatic. But he hadn't been in the political sphere—his father and his brother had. What if they were right?

  "There's no way that Clara will agree to simply be behind the scenes," he said, trying to turn over a solution in his mind. "She was born for politics. She studied it—always meant to go back to Oxford and get her degree there."

  "She doesn’t have the degree yet, and she's several months pregnant," his father said. "She can want a lot of things, but we are dealing with several serious realities here."