Читать книгу United By Their Royal Baby - Therese Beharrie - Страница 11

Chapter Two

XAVIER WATCHED THE shock in her eyes disappear behind the curtain that hid all her emotions. The emotions he’d once been able to read as easily as he did his favourite books.

‘What does that mean?’ Leyna asked softly. He wanted to tell her—would have, had it been ten years before—but he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was infertile. The fact that he’d alluded to it at all told him how much she shook him.

And how much he wanted to shake her.

How much he wanted to crack that perfectly logical, reasonable veneer she wore like a shield.

‘It means there are cracks in that perfect plan of yours. And it’s all a little...desperate.’

‘You were the one who brought it up,’ she shot back, reminding him of yet another of his slips. ‘And yes, a child is desperate, but aren’t we in a desperate situation?’

‘So, you’re saying desperate times call for desperate measures?’

‘If you’d like to use that cliché to help you understand it, then yes.’

‘And how would we conceive this child?’ He knew he wasn’t asking it because of his fertility problems but, again, because he found himself wanting to pierce through that cold facade. ‘Should I stay after the banquet for us to get...reacquainted?’

He hated how bitter he sounded—worse still, how the bitterness had made him more vulgar than he’d intended. He watched her honey-coloured skin go pale, and felt the satisfaction of it just as acutely as he felt the shame.

Her lack of colour made the golden-brown of her hair—the green of her eyes—all the more striking. And if he added the gold dress she wore, which clung to her curves in a way that made him forget she was a queen...

She wasn’t the delicate Princess from their youth any more, he thought. Though her face still had its slight angles and there were still freckles lightly spread over her nose, the woman who had laughed with him in the waters that separated their islands—the woman who’d once agreed to marry him—was gone.

The woman who stood in front of him now had a realism in her eyes that sent an ache through his body. The light that had always been there had been dimmed by whatever she’d gone through in the ten years since they’d been close. There was power, more authority, too. She’d changed, he knew.

But then, so had he.

‘It won’t work,’ she told him, colour flooding her skin again. ‘I know you’re trying to shake me, but it won’t work.’

‘Won’t it?’ he asked, taking a step towards her. Her eyes widened, and awareness sizzled through his body. He’d loved those eyes once. They’d told him everything he needed to know. And though there were many less disturbing memories to choose from, his mind offered him the day Leyna had agreed to marry him.

Her eyes had shone with a love he hadn’t thought capable of hurting him the way it—the way she—had. And then there had been the desire in her eyes a few moments later. When he’d had her against a tree. She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her, but there had been fear, uncertainty, too.

He saw those emotions in her eyes again now. And it made him wonder whether they were caused by the same reason. That she’d never been with a man before. The thought stirred a mess of emotions in his chest that he didn’t want to think about. Though there was one thing he couldn’t ignore, and that was the fact that he still wanted her, regardless of what the answer to that question was.

It shocked him into stepping back.

‘No, it won’t,’ she said, and he heard the breathiness she tried to mask. ‘Because we both have kingdoms to think about. Unless you’ve forgotten that’s the real reason for all of this?’

She was right, he thought. He needed to think about his kingdom. And that meant he couldn’t deny her suggestion had merit. If he pushed all his feelings about it aside, he could recognise the strength and subsequent protection a marriage and child would offer Mattan.

He was also sure his family would approve. Sure, they’d treated his relationship with Leyna as an indulgence in the past. Mostly because they couldn’t deny how beneficial a union between him and Leyna—between Mattan and Aidara—would have been. But the moment they’d realised that wouldn’t be happening, they’d told him to snap out of it. To think of his kingdom.

Since that was what drove him now, too, he knew they would approve. And since the man he and Leyna had grown up with no longer seemed to exist in Zacchaeus, Xavier was forced to face that this might be their only option.

Which meant he needed to tell her the truth of his fertility problems.

The thought had him heading straight to the alcohol decanter next to her desk. He flipped over two glasses, and poured a splash of the brown liquid into each. He offered her one and, when she took it, downed his own. He would have liked another, but that wouldn’t have been wise considering what he was in Aidara to do. Or what he was about to say.

‘I can’t have children.’

He set the glass back in its tray. It gave him a reason to avoid the emotion on her face.

‘You...’ Her voice faded. ‘I’m so sorry, Xavier.’

‘I’ve accepted it.’

‘How...how do you know?’

‘I was married, Leyna,’ he reminded her, and saw hurt pass over her face so quickly he didn’t know what to think about it. So he continued. ‘Erika and I tried to have children before she died. We could never conceive.’

‘That must have been terrible for you...and Erika. I’m sorry.’

Emotion churned inside him. Erika had been devastated by their battle to have children. And when they’d found out that there was no medical reason why they couldn’t, she’d turned angry.

By then, she’d learnt that the allure of marrying a king had only been in her imagination. That the reality of it was far more demanding—and sometimes more demeaning—than she’d wanted.

Would she still have felt the same if she’d become a mother?

He never gave himself the permission to consider it. All he knew was that the only thing that had kept Erika committed to being Queen had been the prospect of a child. And when that hadn’t happened she had become more and more withdrawn. And he’d felt more and more guilty. Because though there’d been no proof that it was him, it had to be.

‘Why not? Why can’t you have children?’ Leyna’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

‘We tried and we didn’t conceive.’

‘Yes, you said that.’ She frowned. ‘That doesn’t mean you were the reason you couldn’t conceive.’

‘It wasn’t Erika’s fault,’ he said sharply.

‘I wasn’t saying that it was. But there is such a thing as unexplained infertility.’

It was what the doctor had told them, too. But, as someone who’d needed answers, Xavier hadn’t been happy with that. Neither had Erika. So he’d accepted the blame for it.

‘So there’s no medical reason that you can’t conceive?’

He clenched his jaw. ‘No.’

‘Then we still have a chance.’

‘I must have missed this unfeeling side of you when we were friends.’

He saw her flinch, but her voice was steady. ‘The reality of our lives—of our duty—doesn’t always allow us to feel, Xavier.’

‘Is that how we’ll conceive this child then? Without feeling?’

‘Why not?’

‘You have to have some kind of feeling to conceive a child, Leyna.’

‘Perhaps, if you want to do it naturally.’ She raised an eyebrow—taunting him, he knew, with the insinuation. ‘But, since this is going to be a contract, I think we should consider other options. To keep things...official.’

Relief and disappointment mingled in his chest. ‘You mean artificial insemination?’

‘Or IVF.’

‘It would take time we might not have.’

‘Which is why we should do it as soon as possible.’

With each word, his heart grew heavier. It weighed down his response so that, although he knew she was right, he couldn’t bring himself to agree. Agreeing would mean that the distance he’d sought from her for ten years would be destroyed. It would bring back all the feelings he’d avoided thinking about since Erika had died. Feelings of failure, of heartbreak.

And if he agreed to marry Leyna he knew he would feel as though he was being disloyal to Erika. Worse still, if it worked and Leyna fell pregnant, he would feel as though he’d betrayed Erika. He’d be living the life she’d once accused him of always wanting.

He wasn’t sure he could live with that guilt.

‘Do you agree, Xavier?’

‘Does it matter? You seem to have everything neatly planned anyway.’

‘Neatly?’ she repeated, disbelief in her voice. ‘This is probably the least neat thing I’ve ever planned, Xavier. Do you think I want to be married to you, to carry your child?’

‘Well, if it’s such a burden then—’

‘Stop it,’ she snapped, anger turning her cheeks red. ‘Our lives are filled with burdens. They’re called responsibilities. They’re a part of our duty.’ He saw her chest heave, revealing the passion with which she spoke her words. ‘Duty comes first, Xavier. It always has and it always will. This plan I’ve so neatly outlined is going to require sacrifices from the both of us, and it won’t be pleasant. In fact, I’m pretty sure it might destroy me.’

Her eyes widened and she turned away from him. It had been her first real show of emotion—proper, spontaneous emotion that told him the veneer of aloofness had been cracked. It had surprised her and, though he’d wanted to crack that shield, it had surprised him, too.

He didn’t know what to make of her words. What would destroy her? Working with him? Being married to him? Carrying his child? Was she just as affected as he was by the prospect that this decision would make them share their lives in the way they’d always imagined? Or was it because the circumstances of this life together were nothing like they’d imagined, ensuring that this decision would make their lives infinitely more complicated?

‘Perhaps there’s a simpler solution,’ he said suddenly, his thoughts turning him desperate.

‘There is no simple solution for us. For this,’ she said, turning back to him. Her eyes were bright, troubled, and he wanted to reach out and comfort her. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He didn’t know her any more. Comforting her wasn’t his job.

‘Duty is never simple,’ he said mockingly. But she responded seriously.

‘No, it isn’t. It will never be simple for us, nor will it ever be simple between us.’

It was the first time she’d made any kind of mention of their past, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. So he didn’t respond, instead letting the silence stretch. He felt it build, felt the tension pulse from both of them.

It made him want to ask her why she’d done it. Why she’d broken his heart. Why she’d broken them. It made him want to tell her how long he’d been broken. How he’d still had to pick up the pieces in the first years of his marriage to Erika. How that had started the cracks that had eventually broken him and Erika, too.

‘We can try to set up a meeting with Zacchaeus one more time,’ she said, breaking the silence.

‘You know that won’t work.’

‘Then we move on to Plan B.’

‘Marriage and a child?’

‘Marriage and a child,’ she confirmed.

‘We don’t have the luxury of time here,’ Xavier said quietly. ‘If Zacchaeus decides to attack either of us, our kingdoms will be helpless to stop him.’

‘One more attempt at diplomacy, and then we move on to Plan B, Xavier,’ Leyna said again. ‘Now, we should get back before they realise we’re gone.’

She set the glass down, its contents untouched, and walked out of the room before he could reply.