CHAPTER FIFTEEN

C RISTHIAN HAD ALREADY made certain all the wedding plans were in place. He had foreseen no circumstance where the wedding would not happen. But now that Zia had agreed, he expected to feel an even stronger sense of certainty. He would not have to thwart any escapes or overcome any overzealous nos.

Everything should be fine and settled with her agreement and everyone in the household on the same page.

If anything, as he got word the minister would be arriving shortly, he felt the opposite. As though her saying she would marry him without incident harvested an entire field of doubts inside him.

Which was ridiculous. Marriage was the right course of action. And he would protect her, their children, her sister. Anyone else. From all that the monarchy so carelessly hurt.

That was the legacy his father had left him.

And look how that turned out .

He shook his head. They weren’t running away. If anything, they were standing up to the pressures. Just as he had done as a young man, extricating himself from a family who had never cared about anything other than their own reputations.

He was taking that need to run away from her. For her. In all the ways he’d been too young to do it for his parents.

He had been a success ever since he’d stepped away from his mother’s family. So how could getting Zia away from hers not be a success?

And the king had agreed. Even now, their lawyers were hashing out the details. All necessary agreements would be completed and signed before the small ceremony tonight.

But what had caused the king’s change of heart? Something to do with Beaugonia. It had to be. The timing made no sense otherwise. Which was really none of his business.

So he tried to convince himself. Still, the worry, the confusion, the frustration lingered.

If whatever had gone on between the king and Beaugonia hurt Zia...

Eventually, Cristhian could not stand it any longer. He had one of his staff members hunt down Beau and bring her to him. Without Zia.

It took longer than he would have liked. First his lawyers swept in with their concerns and paperwork. Things the king had tried to sneak by them, things they had tried to sneak by the king. But in the end, Cristhian had what he wanted.

A legal guarantee Zia would not be required to fulfill any royal duties she did not wish, that their children would make their own decisions on if they would like titles or not. A small and, to Cristhian’s mind, unnecessary inheritance, but he wouldn’t fault the king for that.

All would go into place once he and Zia were married, and then all would be just as Cristhian wanted it. Everyone protected as he saw fit. By the law and his own hand.

And still no sense of calm came over him.

When Beaugonia was ushered into his office, he was certain once he dealt with her, he would feel it. She was the last loose thread.

“Good afternoon, Cristhian,” she offered cheerfully, though he didn’t fully believe the cheer. “It seems you are in desperate need of my company.”

“I have an important question to ask you, Your Highness.” He walked over to the door, closed and locked it himself. Beaugonia looked at the knob with great suspicion, so Cristhian stayed by the door rather than approach her. It was not his goal to make her uncomfortable.

But he had to know the truth.

“I would like to know what you and your father discussed this morning that had such an...effect on you.”

Beau looked him up and down, head cocked to one side. “Too bad.”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. When he did, he was alarmed to find his voice had raised an octave. “I beg your pardon.”

“I don’t want you to know. So you won’t. Not yet, anyway.” Then she shrugged. As if that was that.

He supposed he finally saw some of the resemblance between the two sisters. Stubbornness in direct opposition to his goals.

“Princess—”

“You saw me through a panic attack, Cristhian. I think you can call me by my name.”

It was hard to reconcile this self-possessed woman with the woman from this morning, shaking and struggling to breathe, the one he’d initially met who hid behind her parents and didn’t speak. And yet he’d always seen his mother as a whole, complicated woman, hadn’t he? Sometimes she was upset, and sometimes she had it all handled. She was not all one thing.

Perhaps none of them were all one thing.

“Beaugonia,” he said then, keeping his gaze on hers. A firmness in his tone so she could understand he was serious and would not be deterred. He needed answers. With answers, everything would be sorted. “Your father had a seemingly miraculous change of heart after charging out of that room. I would like to know what caused it, and if it might affect Zia in some way that she is not aware of.”

Beau didn’t react to this right away. She stood, still and blank-expressioned. Then she turned away from him, walking around his office, poking at books on shelves, papers on his desk. She settled herself at the window, looking out over a world of white.

“Everything I do is for my sister,” she said at last. “For the entirety of my life, she has put herself in front of me like a human shield. Because I was different and couldn’t be what our parents wanted me to be. Well, I’m old enough, clever enough and aware enough now to deal with all that. Strong enough to be the one shielding Zia this time around, so she can protect those children.” She met his gaze then, direct and determined. “I would do anything to keep my parents from having any influence on another generation.”

“I may not know your sister as well as you do, but I can assure you, she wouldn’t want you to sacrifice yourself for anything.”

“No,” Beaugonia said with a smile. But it didn’t last long. Her mouth curved back into a frown. “But I didn’t always want her to protect me at great cost to herself. Helping someone isn’t always about wants. I suppose that’s love, all in all.”

Love . Cristhian did not like how this topic kept coming up, how it seemed to root him to the spot. Like an anchor.

Drowning him? It should feel like it was drowning him, against his will. But he had a strange new thought then. An anchor didn’t drown. It tethered. Kept a boat secured to an important shore.

And if love...could be an anchor. If he loved Zia, told her that, would she stay tethered to his very important shore?

What the hell was wrong with him thinking in boat analogies?

But then Beaugonia crossed the room to him. She stopped a few feet away, but he could see Zia stamped all over her. The soft cast of her mouth, the intelligence behind her eyes. All behind a very thin mask of wariness.

But willing to brave the wariness to do what needed to be done, say what needed to be said. Protect who needed protecting.

How could he not respect that?

“I think you might be a good man, Cristhian Sterling. And if you’re not, I’ll make sure to make you suffer. But for now, I’m entrusting you to protect Zia. And that niece and nephew of mine.”

“There is nothing I take more seriously. I could protect you, too. Now, or in the future should you need it.”

She smiled. “That is very kind. Zia never mentioned you were such a softy.”

He scowled a little at that, and she laughed, reminding him of Zia.

“Should I need it, I’ll take you up on that help. But for now, I need you to leave this. To make Zia leave it as well. These are the things I need to do for my sister, with no interference. Please.”

Cristhian normally would have left nothing. Not for anyone.

But with love rattling around inside him, some unwieldy thing, he could only nod and let Beaugonia go.

Zia had needed a nap before she was to start getting ready for the wedding. She hadn’t slept well last night due to stress, and the aches and pains of pregnancy were really announcing themselves because of it.

It was just the stress of everything. The doubts. The fear she was making a mistake. The fear she was doing what was right, what needed to be done, and it would still somehow turn out all wrong.

The loop of wondering if thinking you knew what the right thing to do was an endless generational curse on your children.

And worse, so much worse, silly little fantasies about somehow...somehow creating a real marriage with Cristhian. Something with chemistry and trust and partnership and...love.

Oh, honestly. Could she be more foolish?

She maneuvered her way up and out of bed. She had to pause once she was standing, breathe deeply a few times through all the anxiety making breathing feel harder than it should. That and two babies squishing up against her lungs making it impossible to take a full breath. Every day it seemed a little bit more impossible that this could go on for weeks .

And still she wasn’t eager for the alternative. She took a step, a sharp pain lodging itself in her side. Sort of like a cramp after running too hard and long. And certainly too far to the side to be anything involving the children. She’d probably pulled a muscle or something while she was sleeping, or maybe when she’d struggled to get up off the bed.

She took another step and the pain loosened a little, so she went in search of Beau. But as she went from room to room in their suites, she was nowhere to be found. She couldn’t find her mother, either, which was odd since they had said they would be ready to help her get ready once she woke up.

She searched the entire upstairs to no avail. The pain in her side pretty much disappeared, until she started going down the stairs. Then it started up again. She stretched her arm up above her head, moved around a bit, and it went away.

Once downstairs, she decided to find Cristhian, see if he knew what was going on. Staff members were scarce. Alejandra had said most of them were in the main ballroom getting it ready for the ceremony. So she went to the rooms Cristhian favored, starting with his office.

He sat behind his desk, frowning over a stack of papers. Zia stood in the entrance, simply watching him for a silent moment.

In a few short hours, she would agree to marry this man. She would commit herself to a life of...controlling behavior. He would do everything he thought was right, and she would have no say.

But did it matter if he was doing it to love and protect their children? He had been kind to Beau, when so many people had not been—including their own parents. Should their children struggle with something, he would be kind to them, too.

What more could she really ask for? Love? When the only love she had ever witnessed was the kind that sacrificed self over all else?

She shook her head. She had to find Beau. She had to go through with this, so Beau could escape. She would find a way to make sure Beau got out. With Cristhian’s help, she could do it.

He glanced up, as if he’d sensed her there. He got to his feet, something like concern flitting over his face. “Is everything all right?” he asked when she didn’t speak.

She moved a little farther into the office, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Have you seen my sister?”

Cristhian looked at her and frowned. “Are you quite all right? You’re looking pale.”

“Fine. Just tired. But I can’t find my mother or Beau. I asked Alejandra to search for them, but it’s been quite a while now and she hasn’t returned either.” The pain seized her side again, and she rubbed at it, taking a few more steps into his office in hopes of soothing it out.

“You couldn’t find any of them?”

Zia shook her head. “Mother and Beau are supposed to help me get ready for the ceremony. I don’t know where they could be.”

Cristhian skirted his desk, but before he moved fully to her or said anything else, one of his staff members entered the room. The man cleared his throat.

“Sir, I am to inform you that the king and queen and the princess have left.”

“Left?” Cristhian and Zia echoed at the same time.

“Yes, sir. Just now. I was just told of this and came to relay it immediately.”

“Why was I not informed of their plan?” Cristhian demanded, and he seemed very convincing in his surprise, so Zia didn’t think he was acting.

“I’m very sorry, sir. Apparently they made all of the arrangements themselves. The princess even carried their bags out to the waiting vehicle. No one knew about it until just now, when they were seen driving away.”

Zia was utterly speechless, but the man turned to her. Held out an envelope.

“This was left in their rooms with your name on it, ma’am.”

Zia took the envelope with nerveless fingers. It was her sister’s handwriting on the outside, and on the inside as well.

Zia,

I’ve got this under control.

Love,

B

It made no sense. Why would Beau go off with Mother and Father? Why would any of this be happening before the wedding that was supposed to make everything all right?

“Cristhian, we have to... We have to go after her.” The pain in her side was getting worse, but she tried to ignore it. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I prom...” She couldn’t finish the word. A wave of pain seemed to clamp down on her.

Cristhian was at her side immediately. “Are you in pain? What is it?”

“Just...” But she couldn’t quite get the words out. She had to grit her teeth against the wave of tension that seized her body.

“Go get the doctor,” he said in harsh tones, and the man quickly disappeared.

“Cristhian.” Zia was panting now, though she couldn’t understand why. Maybe she was having a panic attack. “She can’t just leave.”

“Once we have you settled, I will see what I can do. But for now, we must have you checked out. Yes?” But he wasn’t allowing her a chance to respond, he was just ushering her to a different room. One with a couch.

He eased her onto it. That did help, lying down. Cristhian crouched next to her, brushed some hair off her face in a move so gentle her heart stuttered.

“I promise, I will do what I can, but I think your sister had some plans of her own. I know I can’t tell you not to worry about her, but I think she has a better control of whatever situation she’s in than you think.”

“Her letter. She said she has it under control.”

Cristhian nodded, his gaze never leaving hers, his fingers still on her face.

“I believe her. Your parents have their deep, deep faults, Princesa, but they have raised two very capable women.”

Zia didn’t know why that made her want to cry, but the tears filled her eyes. She didn’t let them fall, mostly because the doctor strode in, bag in hand. She went straight for the couch, immediately shooing Cristhian out of the way.

“What has happened, Your Highness?”

Cristhian opened his mouth, but the doctor held up a hand. “In the patient’s own words, thank you.”

Cristhian clamped his mouth shut, though he looked stormy and angry about it, which almost amused Zia enough to smile.

“My side was hurting,” Zia told the doctor. “I thought I’d simply slept on it wrong, but it got worse.”

The doctor had her point to where it hurt, asked her more questions about the pain, then enlisted Cristhian to help arrange things so the doctor could do a more in-depth exam.

The doctor made considering noises as she took different vital signs, both from Zia and from the babies, then poked around at this and that. When she was done, and she let Cristhian help Zia into a more comfortable position on the couch, she smiled at both of them.

“Everything is just fine.”

The doctor’s words sent a wave of relief through her, even though she still worried about Beau. About what her father thought he was doing making them all leave before the wedding even happened.

“I think I was just panicking,” Zia said on a whisper.

The doctor shook her head. “Princess, you’ve begun to dilate, and you’re having some very minor contractions. Perhaps panic played a role, but that’s not the whole story. You’ll want to stay in bed for the next few days. We’ll monitor, make sure everything calms down. It should, but stress is to be avoided.”

The doctor glanced at Cristhian, then returned her gaze to Zia and smiled. “Rest. Relax. That’s the best thing for you right now. Should you have more pain, call me immediately.”

Zia managed to nod at the doctor. Everything was fine. Fine . She placed her hands over her stomach, felt a tiny little roll against her palm. They were good.

But what about Beau?

“Once the pain is completely gone, move her up to her room,” the doctor was telling Cristhian. “She should stay there. All meals brought to her. Supervision when she needs to get up. This is very common, particularly with multiples, but it’ll require some more care taken from the day-to-day to make sure she isn’t overtaxing herself.”

“I will make certain she doesn’t.”

The doctor nodded. “Either of you, fetch me if you need anything.” And then she was gone as quickly as she’d come.

Cristhian stood at the threshold to the room. He didn’t say anything, and a long silence stretched out between them. Until Zia couldn’t take it any longer.

“I suppose we’ll have to postpone the wedding then.”

He gave a short little nod. “Of course.”

“I didn’t mean for...”

“Zia.” He sounded pained. “Of course you didn’t. Our number one priority is that you and the children are healthy. Weddings can wait.”

“But—”

“You need not worry. Doctor’s orders. Trust me. I promised you. I will protect you all. Beau included.”

She studied him then, and there was something different about him. A softness she had not fully seen in him before—at least before he hid it behind that arrogance and control. She understood that Beau’s panic attack had made him realize things about his mother, and she supposed that’s why he was offering to be so supportive of her, but...

“Why, Cristhian? I understand the children are yours, but Beau and I are not. You don’t owe us your protection.”

“I have never been a fan of the word owe . It was used against me for many years. What I owed my mother’s legacy.” He shook his head. “But what I discovered in those difficult years is that anyone’s life is a tapestry. What might life have been like if my mother’s family had included my father’s, instead of trying to fight a war? My children will have all the pieces they can of people who will put them first. That includes their mother, and their aunt.”

“Aunt,” Zia repeated. She’d spent so much of the past few months trying to set up a life for her children, but she admittedly had spent little time thinking of them as...little people in the world, in her world. Calling Beau Aunt . And Cristhian Father .

“Family protects, or it should. So that is what we will do.” He took her hand then, clasped it between his two much larger ones. “But I’m discovering there is more, Zia. Quite unexpectedly, I find myself...being in love with you.”

Love . For a moment, she didn’t breathe, but even when she reminded herself to, she didn’t say anything.

Ever since he’d introduced the idea, what felt like forever ago but was only perhaps a week now, she had been convinced that she would allow him to fall in love with her . That this would be best, really. And she would stay perfectly...detached. She would use his love as a kind of safeguard, but she would not allow herself to feel that much, that deeply, so that it ended up affecting her choices when it came to their children.

So she didn’t speak. Even with her heart racing in her chest, even with this strange...elation soaring through her. She didn’t respond to him.

He could love her, and that would be okay. Best even.

But she would not allow herself to love him.

Ever.