Chapter Ten #2
But he figured that was only fair, since he didn’t understand her at all.
Except he wasn’t poking into her pain. “You think you will find some…childhood trauma that you will—what? Fix?”
She shook her head sadly. “No, of course not.”
“Then, I do not see the purpose of this.”
“I can’t want to understand you?”
“There is nothing to understand beyond the fact I am the king of Alis.” He had truly believed she’d understood this. For almost a year she had, and he could not fathom what had changed. What he had done wrong for all of this to come crumbling around him.
Except he had done nothing, changed nothing.
She had been the agent of all change. If she had not pushed for an annulment, if she had not run away, if she did not continue to push at him to behave differently than he knew he should—walks in gardens, spending the night in her bed, sex in his office—they would not be having these conversations. He would not be in turmoil.
“I know you wish that were true, but it isn’t,” Ines said quietly. “You can’t be a crown, Alex. You are a man. A man with a wife and a child on the way.”
“A queen and a prince or princess.”
Her expression hardened at that. “We are not our titles. However you see yourself, you will not reduce me to a title. A pawn.”
“Fine, but I am a title. I will always be. This is fact. Not a point to be argued.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. Good. Better frustrated than soft. Better they argue about titles than his mother.
“Do you want our child to be raised the way you were?” she asked him.
He could see it so clearly. Standing in that doorway as his father pounded his fists into his mother’s dead body, Evelyne crying down the hall as the nurses tended to a child without a mother.
But no one had tended to him, so he’d watched a nightmare.
“No,” he rasped out. He did not want that for his child. Didn’t she see he was trying to protect them all from that?
“I do not want them raised the way I was either. I want something different for our child. But we are responsible for building that, Alex.”
“He or she is not the heir, so it will be different.”
Her mouth tightened. “That is not what I meant, Alexandre. And you know it.”
Perhaps he did. But he didn’t care. It would not be his concern. She would raise the baby. His job as father was simply to guide the child in the ways of the palace. Because a king was a father to many—not just one.
Perhaps it was not everything, but it would be better than anything his father had ever done for him.
His gaze moved, without him fully realizing it, to the stone with his mother’s name. And what had she done for him in those few years he’d had her? If I didn’t love you so much, everything would be different.
His father sobbing over an already-dead woman he was desecrating with his feelings.
“I mean love, Alex,” Ines said quietly, as if she could hear his memories echoing around him. Using that weapon when he was at his weakest. “Our child will be loved. And I will love you. It is what we all deserve.”
Perhaps they did all deserve something so destructive, but he would not abide by it. Or her words. Or these memories.
Because he was the king, and nothing would be destroyed on his watch.
So he left her there.
And didn’t look back.
Ines stayed in the encroaching dark. There was something peaceful about this spot. Or maybe she was tired of crying, and she was afraid if she went into her bedroom, she’d just end up sobbing until she fell asleep.
It was silly to feel this crushed. She could not expect to get through to a person like Alexandre in one or two conversations. It would take time. To get through to him, to get to the source of his pain, and even once she understood it he would need time to heal from whatever it was.
Could he heal? She gave a little derisive snort. She should be worried about getting through to him at all. Healing was so far off it shouldn’t even be a consideration.
But they had a child to think about, and he still didn’t really acknowledge that. Maybe she didn’t either. Though she had symptoms, it still felt strangely not real. That a child should be growing inside of her.
And she still had months to accept the reality. To bring it on board. For both of them.
Trying to shake the disappointment and sadness and worry away, Ines made her way back to the palace. So she could not get through to him regarding his mother—which was no doubt at least some of his pain, which seemed to be brought on by the idea of love.
God knew Enzo had not loved his son. So the only love he could have gotten was from his mother. There had to be something there, but he rejected letting her in. Letting her know.
He rejected everything when it came to her. Except sex. And even that she thought he’d reject if he could. But the powerful attraction between them was just a little too much to resist. She’d once seen that as a positive sign.
Now she wondered.
Once in her bedroom, she did as she’d feared.
Cried herself to sleep and woke up feeling exhausted and achy, a headache from all yesterday’s tears drumming at her temples.
She felt so poorly she didn’t even bother to get ready for the day.
She simply trudged into the sitting room in her pajamas where tea and breakfast waited. And Jonet. Which wasn’t a great sign.
“Good morning,” Jonet greeted her brightly. A sure sign something was very, very off.
“What is it?” Ines asked. She had no polish, no strength to be anything but straightforward today.
Jonet shifted in her seat. She poured Ines a cup of tea. She took her time speaking.
“I have gotten a memo from the king’s assistant. The king has, uh, been required to travel into the city and attend an economic conference.”
“And I am being told this because…?”
Jonet blinked, clearly surprised by the acid in Ines’s tone. Ines might have been surprised too, but she was too tired to work up to conveying it.
“He will be staying in the city, and so he wanted you to know he would not be attending any meals or walks or appointments for a few days.”
Ines wanted to laugh—bitterly—but she didn’t have any energy for that either. “Of course,” she said instead. She looked at the tea, then waved it away. “I’m going back to bed.”
“Ines…”
But Ines simply walked away, back to her bedroom.
The next few days passed in a kind of blur.
Jonet kept Ines on track, but it was the first time since joining the royal family that Ines needed to be told what to do and prodded into doing it.
Usually, she took all of her tasks quite seriously, but she couldn’t seem to now.
Those who knew she was pregnant blamed that.
Those who did not know whispered behind her back—about her long absence and now her detached behavior.
Ines couldn’t even bring herself to care.
Because, funnily enough, she thought both sides were right.
Part of this exhaustion and emotional turmoil was brought on by pregnancy and hormones and growing a child.
And part was just plain old heartbreak.
“Are you giving up on him?” Evelyne had asked her last night.
Ines hadn’t known how to answer that. She did not want to give up on him. She did not know how to get through to him. It left her in a terrible kind of no-man’s-land, just waiting for the blow to take her out.
The morning Alexandre was supposed to return—in time to go to her anatomy scan—Ines forced herself to get ready in a way she hadn’t been doing lately. She made sure she looked elegant and put-together, as befitted a queen.
Alex had missed their meals and walks, but tonight would be their previously agreed-upon appointment night, and if he thought he was getting out of it…
Well, they would just see about that. Even if she didn’t particularly want to have sex with him right now or sleep in the same bed or even see his obnoxious face. He wasn’t getting out of this because of the bad mood that he’d put her in.
She held on to that little blaze of anger because it felt like something, when most of the past few days had felt like nothing. Just gray. She’d take anger over that.
But the ultrasound technician had arrived with her equipment, and the palace nurse had ushered Ines into the room that was set up for the scan to take place.
The technician gave her directions, and Ines followed them, settling herself on the bed. The technician was ready to start, but there was no sign of Alexandre.
“My husband is supposed to be here,” Ines said, her confidence slipping. What if he just avoided her from here on out? What if he was calling her bluff—daring her to run away? What then?
The door swung open, and in strode the king.
“I apologize,” Alexandre said, closing the door behind him. He didn’t even glance at Ines. His apologies were for the technician. “You may proceed.”
“Um, well, of course.” The woman smiled down at Ines reassuringly.
“This is quite easy, I promise. You only need to relax, Your Majesty,” she said kindly.
“I’ll be looking for a variety of things, but once I can confirm the sex of the baby, I’ll let you know.
Unless you were wanting to be surprised? ”
“No,” Alex said, his voice very regal. The one-word answer a command. “We will know the sex.”
“Of course, sir,” the technician murmured. She got to work, and Ines didn’t look at Alexandre. She watched the screen as the woman made the occasional humming noise as she clicked on this or that, zoomed in, hit another button. Anxiety tightened in Ines’s chest.
She glanced at Alexandre helplessly. He was frowning at the screen, his own expression one of tension. She wanted to reach out for his hand, but he was just absent. And had been late. And what was there to reach out for if he would always walk away from her?
“Everything is measuring just as it should. Heartbeat, size, et cetera, all in line with your current due date.” She smiled down at Ines. “Congratulations, Your Majesties, a princess is on the way.”
A girl. They were having a girl. Every feeling in Ines’s body simply whooshed out of her. She felt boneless. Empty. Terrified and…somehow overjoyed all at the same time.
She looked at Alex, tears spilling over her cheeks. Happy tears, a joy she couldn’t fully understand. A girl, a princess. Something about this tangible thing to hold on to felt real when so little else had.
Alexandre clearly did not agree. His expression was blank. He held his hands behind his back, just as he had when he’d entered. There was nothing in him that gave way to any kind of reaction to the news.
“I’ve sent the results to your medical team.
You’ll only need to go to your follow-up appointment in a few weeks, unless there are any concerns.
They’ll contact you. I’ll leave you two alone to…
celebrate.” The woman’s smile was tight but polite, and she curtsied to both of them before exiting the room.
Alexandre stood there in silence, and Ines still lay on the bed, tears drying on her cheeks.
A daughter. She was to have a daughter. Who would be a princess. Who would be Alex’s daughter.
He seemed very unimpressed, and it made her sad and angry at the same time. Better than nothing, right? She wanted to believe that, but it all felt so awful.
Except… No. She wouldn’t let him ruin this. They were to have a daughter.
“We will need to discuss names,” she announced, finally pulling her shirt back down over the swell of her stomach.
“Names,” Alex echoed.
Ines got off the bed. She stood to face him. He didn’t look at her, which made her angry. “Yes, our child is a person who will need to be named, Alexandre. I can handle it on my own, but I thought the king might have an opinion.”
He looked down at her now, a bit like she was a bug to be wiped off his shoe. He had never used that expression against her. It made her feel worse. Everything about him made her feel worse.
“I’m sure you will choose appropriately.”
She stared at him, fury turning her mute for a good minute or two. He wasn’t even going to make a suggestion? He was going to leave it to her?
Fine. Good, even. Because she was done with this. Done with him. Her daughter would not live like this, hoping for something from her father only to get nothing. Ines didn’t know how to accomplish that just yet, but she’d find a way.
I am the storm.
“Just so you know, you do not need to attend any meals, walks or appointments today. I do not wish to see you or be anywhere near any kings at the moment. I will let you know when that changes.”
And with that, she marched off.