18. Hailey

CHAPTER 18

HAILEY

T he first thing I notice when I wake up is the roiling nausea in my stomach. I groan, curling into myself as a wave of it washes over me.

What is wrong with me? I never get sick.

Maybe it’s the decadent palace food. After years of existing on takeout — and, in between, home-cooked meals at my mom’s apartment — I’m not used to eating all the strange, fancy dishes the palace provides.

I force myself to sit up, rubbing a hand over my face. My head is pounding, and my mouth tastes like something died in it. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I curse. I’m late for breakfast.

I stumble out of bed, fighting back another surge of nausea. I can’t believe I overslept. I pride myself on my punctuality, on always being where I’m supposed to be when I’m supposed to be there. And now, only a few days into my time in Werdenfeld, I’m already falling behind.

I have a quick wash and throw on some clothes, not bothering to brush my hair or put on makeup. I don’t have time. I have to get downstairs before Luca notices my absence.

The thought of facing him after what happened last night in the pool sends a jolt of anxiety through me. I still can’t believe I let myself get so carried away. We agreed that the past was behind us, that we wouldn’t pursue anything of a personal nature.

And what did I do? I sidled up right next to him, like I was going to jump his bones right there in the pool.

I probably would have, too, if things had gotten that far.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. It was just one slip-up. A mistake. It won’t happen again.

I hurry out of my room, making my way down the grand staircase to the dining room. My stomach churns with each step, and I have to pause at the bottom, gripping the banister for support.

When I finally enter the royal family’s private dining room, Luca is already seated at the head of the table, a cup of coffee in front of him. He looks up as I approach, his eyes widening slightly.

“Are you all right? You look pale.”

So much for trying to fake it through the day.

I force a smile and sink into the chair across from him. “I’m fine. Just tired. I’m sorry I’m late.”

He waves away my apology. “Don’t worry about it. I know you had a long day, uh…” He clears his throat. “Yesterday.”

His face is pink. Apparently, I’m not the only one who can’t think about yesterday without remembering our time in the pool.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I can feel his gaze on me, searching, probing. Trying to read me. But I keep my eyes on my plate, focusing on the food in front of me.

Yet even the sight of the eggs and bacon makes my stomach roil. I push them away, reaching for a piece of toast instead.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Luca asks again, concern lacing his voice. “You don’t look well.”

I force another smile, meeting his gaze. “I’m good. Really. Just a bit under the weather. It’ll pass.”

But even as I say the words, I know they’re a lie. Something is wrong with me. I just don’t know what.

I force myself to nibble on the toast, but it tastes like sawdust in my mouth. To make it all the worse, I can feel Luca’s eyes on me, his concern palpable.

Another wave of nausea hits, this one different from any before it. I stand quickly, pushing my chair back. “I’m so sorry, but I need to, uh, excuse myself. I just remembered I have some urgent emails to respond to before your meeting.”

He frowns, but nods. “Of course. Do what you need to do. I’ll see you in the conference room in twenty minutes.”

I nod, grateful for the reprieve, and hurry out of the dining room, my stomach churning.

I make it to my room just in time, barely managing to shut the door before I’m rushing to the bathroom and retching into the toilet. My stomach heaves and heaves, expelling what little I’ve eaten.

When it’s finally over, I slump against the cool porcelain, my forehead beaded with sweat. It’s been a long time since I felt this off. Could it be food poisoning?

I force myself to my feet, rinsing my mouth and splashing cold water on my face. I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror — pale, drawn, with dark circles under my eyes.

I look like death warmed over.

But I don’t have time to dwell on it. Luca’s meeting starts in less than ten minutes, and I need to be there to take notes.

After washing my face, I pull my hair back into a tight bun and apply concealer under my eyes, hoping it will mask the shadows. Then, taking a deep breath, I gather my notebook and pen and head for the conference room.

Luca is already there when I slip in, along with several of his advisors. He looks up as I enter, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Hailey. Are you sure you’re well enough to be here? You still look pale.”

I force a smile, taking my seat. “I’m fine, Lu— Your Majesty. Really. I’m eager to be here.”

He hesitates but then nods and turns to address the room. I flip open my notebook, pen poised to take notes.

But as the meeting drags on, I find it harder and harder to concentrate. My stomach is still off, and I’m so exhausted that I just want to crawl back into bed.

I try to focus on Luca’s words, on the discussion of trade agreements and border disputes. But the words slur together, making no sense.

And then, without warning, my stomach heaves again. I clap a hand over my mouth, leaping to my feet.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, already halfway to the door. I can feel Luca’s eyes on me, hear the murmur of concern from the others in the room.

But I don’t stop. I can’t. I barely make it to the bathroom down the hall before I’m vomiting again, my stomach emptying itself of what little remains.

When it’s over, I slump against the wall, feeling better but sure it will happen again. I guess I need to stop being so stubborn; Luca is right, and I should probably call it a day.

A knock sounds on the door, startling me. “Hailey?” Luca’s voice is gentle, concerned. “How’s it going in there?”

I swallow hard, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m fine,” I call out, my voice shaking. “Just give me a minute.”

But when I try to stand, my legs nearly give out beneath me. I clutch at the sink, struggling to keep my balance.

The door opens, and Luca steps inside. His eyes widen when he sees me, and he’s at my side in an instant, his arm around my waist.

“You’re not fine,” he says firmly. “You’re sick, Hailey. You need to be in bed.”

I want to argue, but the truth is, I feel awful. My head is pounding, my stomach still churning. And the thought of facing the rest of the day like this is unbearable.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to let you down.”

Luca shakes his head, his fingers brushing my cheek. “You could never let me down. Your health is what’s important now.”

He helps me out of the bathroom, his arm still around me. I lean into him, savoring the warmth of his touch, the strength of his body against mine. It’s all temporary, of course, but I relish it all the same.

We make our way slowly down the hall and into the elevator, Luca supporting me with every step. When we reach my room, he opens the door and guides me inside.

I sink down onto the bed, exhaustion washing over me. Luca kneels beside me, his hand on my forehead.

“You’re not warm,” he murmurs.

“I feel much better.” I turn onto my side, meaning it completely.

“I’m going to send for the palace doctor. You need to rest. Don’t move.”

I start to argue, but he’s already moving away from me, and then he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him. I burrow beneath the covers, my heart racing.

It’s not right, but I can’t help but feel a thrill of pleasure at the memory of Luca’s touch, at the tenderness in his eyes as he helped me into bed.

I know I shouldn’t want him, shouldn’t crave his touch. But in this moment, with my defenses down and my heart laid bare, I can’t stop myself from wishing he were here beside me, holding me close.

A tear slips from my eye, and I wipe it away.

Not wanting to wallow in my misery, I turn on the TV. Might as well catch up on the news while I wait for the doctor.

Not thirty minutes have passed when there’s a knock on the door, and a woman enters the room. I’ve seen her around the palace but never knew she was the doctor here.

“Ms. Warren? I’m Dr. Novak, the palace physician. His Majesty asked me to check on you.”

She has a kind face, with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile. I push myself up to a sitting position, trying to smooth my tangled hair.

“Thank you for coming,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I woke up really nauseous and weak.”

Dr. Novak nods, pulling a chair over to the bedside. She takes my wrist, checking my pulse, then places a cool hand on my forehead.

“Can you describe your symptoms for me?” she asks, reaching for her stethoscope.

I take a deep breath, trying to focus through the haze of nausea and fatigue. “I’ve been throwing up, and I’m so tired. And a little dizzy. After I throw up, I feel better for a while, and then the nausea starts building again.”

Dr. Novak listens to my heart. “Have you eaten anything new lately?”

“I’ve just been having what everyone else here is eating.”

“If it were food poisoning, someone else would be sick, and no one is today. When was your last menstrual period?”

It’s a standard question, one that every doctor always asks me, no matter the reason I’m seeing them. “It was…”

I freeze, my mind racing. I try to think back, to remember, but the weeks have blurred together in a haze of work and stress and Luca.

“I… I’m not sure,” I stammer. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t really been keeping track…”

Can I really have missed it? How could…? My breathing picks up, and my chest tightens.

Dr. Novak nods, her expression sympathetic. “Based on your symptoms, it’s possible that you may be pregnant. Would you like me to bring you some tests?”

“Uh, y–yes please.”

The world tilts on its axis. Pregnant . The word echoes in my mind, a terrifying, impossible truth.

There’s only one man who could be the father of my child. One night of passion, of reckless abandon, that I’ve tried so hard to forget.

We used a condom, though!

Yep. A condom that had been in my nightstand for months. For all I know, it was probably expired.

I close my eyes. Shit .

“I’ll be right back. Sit tight.”

I try to do exactly that as she fetches me a couple of home pregnancy tests, though inside I’m panicking. When she returns, I take both of the tests into the bathroom, follow the instructions, and wait three minutes.

And there it is: the truth. Both tests are positive.

“Oh, my God,” I hiss.

With shaking hands, I return to the doctor, who is waiting patiently in her chair. The look on my face must say everything.

“As your doctor, everything between us is confidential,” she says, then pauses. “Also, for what it’s worth, I know what it’s like to be a woman in this palace. We really get the raw end of the deal sometimes.”

I more collapse than sit on the end of my bed. A baby…

For the first time, there’s a flutter of excitement in my chest. Am I ready to be a mom? I understand what Dr. Novak is suggesting; it’s challenging to have a woman and a family.

But maybe… maybe I’m up to the challenge.

Dr. Novak stands. “Can I do anything for you?”

I swallow hard. “No. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” She exits with the same formality that she entered with, leaving me alone once more.

I close my eyes. Can this be happening? I’m pregnant!

Pregnant by Luca.

Prince Luca. The king-to-be, the man who’s made it clear he wants no future with me.

I close my eyes, fear and panic and a wild, desperate hope warring in my chest.

What am I going to do now?