Not Fit for a King

chapter SIXTEEN

ZALE lay in bed with Hannah in his arms, blinds still open so they could watch the sun set. Moments ago the sky had been a spectacular red and orange but the fiery colors were fading, leaving long lavender shadows to stretch across the plaza. The elegant street lamps at the train station were coming on, shining soft yellow pools of light onto the cobbled street.

They’d been in bed for hours. Had made loved for hours. Their lovemaking warm and tender and bittersweet.

Zale had known since birth he’d have to marry a blue blood, a true princess. He’d known since he was fifteen that princess would be Emmeline.

But in the blink of an eye it had all changed.

He wouldn’t be marrying Emmeline.

The woman he loved was definitely not royal.

Duty required that he walk away from Hannah. Common sense suggested the same, and yet somehow she felt as essential to his life as Tinny. And he’d never walk away from Tinny.

But who would assume the throne if he chose Hannah? Who knew this country well enough to lead?

There were cousins, of course, but none of them even lived in Raguva anymore, choosing instead to make their home in far flung places like Sydney and Paris, London, San Francisco and Buenos Aires. Places that were urban, sophisticated, exciting.

On the other hand, he hadn’t been living in Raguva when his parents died. He’d been in Madrid, but he had returned, and learned what he needed to know to get the job done and he’d served Raguva well.

Others could do what he had done. His oldest cousin, Emmanuel, was first in line, and a compassionate, educated man. He’d be a quick study but his health was poor. So poor in fact that he and his wife hadn’t started a family yet due to Emmanuel’s weak heart, which meant succession would once again be an issue.

Emmanuel’s younger brother, Nicolas, was next in line and Nicolas was charismatic but a notorious spendthrift. Despite a sizable allowance, he was always in debt and looking for a quick bailout from one family member or another.

No, Nicolas was not an option. He’d ruin Raguva within a year or two.

So who then would be Raguva’s king should Zale step down? Who would protect Raguva? Who could put Raguva first?

Hannah reached out, placing her hand on his chest. “Stop,” she murmured. “There’s nothing to do, nothing to decide. We both know how this plays out. I’m leaving in the morning.”

“No.”

Her hand caressed the smooth plane of muscle. “I don’t want to go, but I can’t give you heirs, and you need heirs. Not just an heir and a spare, but a whole brood.”

“I won’t lose you.”

“It will be better once I go. Better to make a quick, clean break. We both know the longer I stay the worse it’ll be.”

“I’ve lost so much in my life, Hannah. How can I be expected to give you up, too?”

She was silent a long moment. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “But it’s the only real option. You can’t forsake your country, and you need to be here for Tinny.”

“Tinny can go wherever we go.”

“But the palace is the only home Tinny has ever known. You can’t take him from his home. Nor can you walk away from your responsibilities here. You are the king. This is your country. This is your destiny.”

He cupped her face in his hands, his expression fierce, his amber eyes burning. “You are my destiny. I am sure of it. More sure of it than I’ve ever been of anything.”

She kissed him, once and again. “I love you, Zale, but you’re wrong. I can’t be your destiny, not when Raguva needs you.”

“It’s so easy for you to go?”

“No! It’s not easy, but if you relinquished your throne for me, you’d come to resent me, and I’d always feel guilty.” “There has to be another way.”

Hannah curled closer to him, her cheek pressed to his chest so she could listen to the strong, steady beat. The even steady beat soothed her, reassured her. He was a good man and a true king. “But there isn’t, darling. Is there?”

So it was decided. She’d be leaving in the morning. Zale would take her to the airport, and put her on his plane for Dallas.

Decision made, Zale called the palace requesting Chef to send dinner over, and they ate in her room, and drank a bottle of red wine and talked for hours about everything but Hannah’s departure in the morning.

At midnight they made love again and talked some more, and then somehow it was dawn, and the sun was rising from behind the mountains, turning the sky pale yellow.

Hannah lay in Zale’s arms watching the sky gradually lighten.

She felt Zale’s hand in her hair, his fingers threading through the long strands. He hadn’t spoken in hours but she could feel the emotion inside of him.

“I know I’m not in a position to be asking for favors,” she said softly, breaking the silence, “but I’d like to ask for one anyway. Can I see Tinny one more time before I go?”

Zale didn’t answer.

“Just a brief visit,” she added. “I’ll keep it light. Won’t get emotional. Won’t make a big deal about saying goodbye.”

“I don’t know, Hannah. Tinny already thinks you’re going to be his sister and he won’t understand why you’re not there anymore.”

“But won’t he already be confused as to why I’m not there?” She turned in his arms to better see his face. “I can tell Tinny I have to go to Texas to see some of my family, and I’ll tell him about Texas and ranches and cowboys.” Her eyes searched Zale’s. “Please, Zale. It would help me to leave, help me know I haven’t just walked away from Tinny as if he didn’t matter.”

Zale’s jaw flexed, his expression taut. “Fine. I’ll call Mrs. Sivka and let her know we’re taking morning tea with Tinny.”

“Thank you.”

Three hours later they were sitting down in Tinny’s suite at a small table in the living room for morning tea. The table was covered with a cheerful yellow check cloth and a bowl of daisies sat in the middle. Teacups and plates were at each of the three places and Tinny rocked excitedly back and forth in his chair, delighted that he was entertaining.

Mrs. Sivka poured the tea for them, and presented Tinny with his hot chocolate as Hannah entertained Prince Tinny with stories as she’d promised, telling him about Texas and all the animals on their ranch. He liked that they had horses and cows and chickens. He was really excited she’d had a goat.

Hannah loved Tinny’s laughter and the way he clapped his hands with excitement. But all too soon teatime was over and they were having to say their goodbyes.

Tinny gave her a big hug and kiss. Hannah hugged him back. And then she was holding Mrs. Sivka’s plump, cool hands in her own.

Mrs. Sivka’s blue eyes watered, she squeezed Hannah’s hands tightly. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

Hannah gulped a breath, fighting tears of her own. “Oh, Mrs. Sivka, you can’t call me that anymore. I’m just plain Hannah Smith.”

“Never plain.” Mrs. Sivka’s hands squeezed hers. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will,” Hannah assured her. “And be happy.”

Hannah’s smile faltered. “I’ll try.”

Then Zale’s hand was at her elbow and he was ushering her out the door and down the grand staircase to the waiting limousine. The drive to the royal airport was a quiet one and it was even more strained as he escorted her onto his private plane.

Zale could hardly look at Hannah as she sat down in the jet’s leather armchair, his handsome features hard, expression savage. “And I’m just supposed to leave you like this?” he demanded, voice harsh.

She’d made up her mind in the limousine she wouldn’t cry as they parted, had told herself she’d keep it together for both their sake, and she was determined to keep her vow. “Yes.”

His jaw clamped tight. His cheekbones jutted. “And what am I supposed to say now?”

A lump filled her throat, and a terrible tenderness ached in her chest. Her eyes drank him in, trying to remember every feature, every expression. How she loved this man. How she’d miss him.

Her nails dug into her palms. Her eyes were scalding hot. “You say goodbye.” “No.”

She would not cry. Not cry. Not, would not. Rising, she caught his handsome face in her hands, looked into his eyes then kissed him gently, tenderly. “Goodbye, Zale. It’s time to let me go.”

Zale was in hell. A hell unlike any other hell he’d ever known, and he’d known hell before. He’d suffered terribly when Stephen was fighting leukemia. He’d raged when his brother later died. He’d mourned his parents after their plane crashed and cried in private for Tinny who missed his mother every night, not understanding why she wouldn’t come home. But none of that sorrow, none of that loss, was like the pain he felt now because Hannah had given him something no one else had—peace. With Hannah he felt complete. Strong. Whole.

He hadn’t realized until she’d arrived in Raguva how empty he’d been, how hollow he’d felt.

Yes, he’d known duty and he’d fulfilled his responsibilities but he’d been like a man sleepwalking. He’d been numb, just going through the motions. And then she arrived and brought him to life.

And now she was gone. His woman. And she’d taken his heart.

For two endless weeks Zale barely spoke, moving silently from bedchamber to office, to parapet and back again.

He ate little. Slept less. He wouldn’t even allow Krek to attend to him. When he wasn’t working he ran. He ran early in the morning, in the middle of the day and late into the night. And when he couldn’t run anymore, he stretched out on his bed and prayed.

He prayed as he hadn’t prayed in years. Not since Stephen was ill and Zale wanted him cured.

Zale’s prayers hadn’t been heard then but he prayed anyway now.

He loved her. He needed her. Fiery, passionate, fierce, funny Hannah.

She was flawed and stubborn, impetuous and emotional and he’d never loved anyone more.

His eyes stung and he rubbed at them. He hadn’t cried since he’d had to comfort Tinny after their parents funeral, and he wouldn’t cry now, but his heart was breaking and there was nothing he could do about it. Life was life and it’d dealt him a bitter hand.

It had been nearly a month since Hannah had gone and Zale had run himself to the point of exhaustion. But the exhaustion failed to dull the pain. His heart hurt—burned—constantly and he couldn’t understand how that part of him could hurt so much when the rest of him felt dead.

He was standing at his window in his study, staring out at nothing when a knock sounded on his door.

The door opened and Mrs. Sivka entered looking so much frailer than she had a month ago. It was as if she’d aged ten years in thirty days. “Forgive me for intruding, Your Majesty, but I insisted that your staff let me in to see you.”

Zale had been pacing his office, unable to sit, unable to rest and he walked away from her, to the window overlooking the garden. He kept his back to her so she couldn’t see his face. “Is Tinny not well?”

“The prince is fine. He’s with Mrs. Daum right now. But I need a word with you.”

“What is it?”

She was silent so long that he glanced over his shoulder. “Mrs. Sivka?” he prompted impatiently.

Anxiety was etched into her features and worry in her eyes. “There is something I’ve never told anyone. Something I swore I would never tell. It was a blood oath. One of those promises you cannot break, for any reason, ever. And I haven’t.”

Zale sighed, irritated. He was tired, not in the mood for this. The past month had been absolute hell and the last thing he wanted was to play word games. “And yet you feel the need to break it now?” he drawled sarcastically.

“Yes.”

He turned around, folded his arms across his chest. “Why?” “It might change everything.”

No, he really couldn’t deal with her now, not if she insisted on talking about secrets and blood vows and other silly games. “What would?”

“The truth.”

“Mrs. Sivka, please.”

Her round face creased. “There were two babies, Your Majesty. Two baby girls, not one. Princess Emmeline and the infant princess, Jacqueline.”

Zale blinked. He’d heard what she said but it hadn’t fully registered. “What?”

“Princess Emmeline was one of two. She had a twin sister.” “That’s nonsense. Absolute fiction. King William would have told me if Emmeline had a twin—” “He didn’t know. No one knew—”

“Listen to yourself, Mrs. Sivka! I’m not Tinny. Not interested in make-believe.”

“This is true. I was there. I was there for Princess Jacqueline’s delivery at Marmont, the royal family’s hunting lodge in northern Brabant. Her Royal Highness’s nanny had been my best friend since childhood, and she’d asked me to be there, too, at the delivery. I was to take care of the newborn for the first few days while she tended to Princess Jacqueline.”

Mrs. Sivka took a quick breath, expression pleading, wanting him to understand, needing him to understand. “Of course I went, and we thought we were prepared for the delivery. It was a difficult delivery. No one expected twins, and although there was a midwife on hand, it became apparent that something was very wrong. Her Highness needed surgery. She was bleeding internally. But as you know, Marmont is remote, at least an hour’s drive from the nearest city, much less a modern hospital. We called for help but there was no helicopter available, no emergency medical team near us.” Her eyes turned pink and her mouth pressed thin. “Her Highness knew she was dying—”

She broke off as tears fell and she struggled to keep control. “Her Royal Highness was very brave, and quite calm. She was also very specific about what she wanted us to do. One baby was to go to her brother at the palace in Brabant. And the other baby was to go to the babies’ father in America. I took infant Princess Jacqueline to him with the news that Her Royal Highness had died in childbirth but she wanted him to have their child—”

“He knew Jacqueline had been pregnant?”

Mrs. Sivka nodded. “Her Royal Highness had written to him, told him, but her family wouldn’t give him access to her.”

“I can’t believe this.”

Mrs. Sivka’s shoulders twisted. “But I never told him he had another daughter. I couldn’t, not after the vow I made.” Zale was absolutely numb. “Why tell me this now?” “Because it changes everything.” “It changes nothing.” “You’re not listening then.”

“I am listening. Fairy tales and secrets and blood vows—”

“You don’t have to be afraid, Your Majesty.”

“Afraid?” he roared, hands clenched, fury blinding him. “You think I’m afraid?”

“Yes.” She folded her arms across her middle. “You did this very same thing when you were just a boy. You hated to be disappointed, hated pain, so you’d hurt yourself first so no one could make you hurt worse.”

“You can go, Mrs. Sivka.”

Mrs. Sivka didn’t budge. “Your Majesty, prayers do get answered, and there is goodness and justice in the world, not just pain. Because in your heart you already know the ending of my story.”

Zale ground his teeth together, muscles so tense he ached all over. “That what? This infant princess … this Jacqueline …?” “Is your Princess Hannah.”

Zale sat down abruptly on the windowsill, his legs no longer able to hold him. Can’t be. Can’t. Impossible.

“You shouldn’t tell tales,” he said roughly, hating Mrs. Sivka in that moment for torturing him like this when he had nothing left to go on. He needed to eat, needed to sleep, but most of all, he needed her, Hannah, his woman.

“I’ve never lied to you, Your Majesty. I wouldn’t start now.” Mrs. Sivka went to the door, opened it, revealing a wan-looking Hannah dressed in jeans and a white blouse, her hair loose and her stunning face scrubbed free of all makeup.

Hannah looked at him from across the library, blue eyes huge in her pale face. “Hello, Your Majesty.” Zale couldn’t breathe. Hannah. Here. Here.

And his. Princess or not. It didn’t matter. It would never matter. He’d gladly give up everything for a chance at a life with her.

Mrs. Sivka smiled broadly. “Your Majesty, may I present to you, Her Royal Highness, Hannah Jacqueline Smith.”

Zale didn’t know who moved first—he or Hannah—but suddenly she was in his arms in the middle of the study, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she choked out, voice wobbling as she looked up into his face. “And never is such a long, long time.”

“I know. I’ve been so angry this past month. I was going mad without you here.”

“I heard.”

“How?”

“I called the palace every day and talked to Mrs. Sivka or Krek, asking about you. It killed me to hear that you were so unhappy.”

He clasped her face in his hands. “My staff talked about me behind my back?”

“Yes. Sorry. But I badgered them until they told me the truth. I had to know.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And I’d lose it, absolutely lose it when I heard you were running fifteen, twenty miles a day and not eating. I wanted to jump on a plane and come see you but I was afraid that if I came, I’d never leave.”

“But you’re here now.”

She blinked, and tears fell in streaks. “Because I don’t ever intend to leave. Not unless you forcibly throw me onto the streets.”

Her blue eyes had turned aquamarine from crying and her long black lashes were wet and matted and her nose was pink and she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “I need you here, Hannah. I can’t do this without you. I don’t even want to live without you.”

“That’s what Mrs. Sivka said when I called her on Tuesday. She said she feared for you, feared you’d become too self-destructive, and that’s when she told me who I was.” She bit into her lip to stop it quivering. “The name on my birth certificate is Hannah Jacqueline Smith. I always wondered where my father got the name Jacqueline. He never told me, not until this week after Mrs. Sivka told me everything.”

Zale turned to look at Mrs. Sivka. “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell her the truth! You could have cleared this all up weeks ago—”

“I’d made a promise, Your Majesty.”

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, adding something under his breath about old women and blood vows before clasping Hannah’s face in his hands and kissing her brow, her damp cheek, her salty lips.

Hannah laughed against his mouth. “Don’t be mean,” she whispered. “At least she told us.”

“I should fire her. Throw her out—”

“Zale!” Hannah drew back and gave him a stern look. “She’s your nanny!”

Zale gazed down into her eyes, his expression hard and then turning to awe. “And she knew you before I did. She was there at your birth. Incredible.” And it was incredible, he thought, drinking her in. Hannah wasn’t ordinary Hannah Smith, but Emmeline’s twin sister, and a true princess of Brabant. “It’s a miracle.”

“It is,” she agreed. “And my father supports Mrs. Sivka’s story. She did bring me to him when I was just a week old.”

“He must be stunned to discover he has another daughter.”

Hannah hesitated. “I haven’t told him that part yet. I thought I would, when he flies in for our wedding.”

The corner of Zale’s mouth slowly curved. “And when is our wedding, Your Highness?”

Hannah grinned back. “Mrs. Sivka and I were thinking maybe a week from today?”

Zale glanced at his beaming nanny. “You’re planning my wedding now, are you, Mrs. Sivka?”

“Why not? I used to change your nappies.”

“You may go, Mrs. Sivka,” Zale said with mock sternness.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she answered, heading for the door. But Zale called to her before she could close the door. “Mrs.

Sivka?”

His nanny looked at him with terrible tenderness. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Thank you.” His eyes were warm, his expression grateful. “Thank you for everything.”

“My pleasure.”

Once she was gone, Zale lifted Hannah onto the corner of her desk and moved between her legs to get as close to her as he could. “What kind of wedding do you want, Hannah?”

“I don’t care, as long as you and I are both there.” She reached for his hips, pulled him even closer, so that his zipper rubbed up against her inner thighs. “People are going to talk, though,” she added, sliding a hand over his crotch and his growing erection. “How will you explain that I’m not Princess Emmeline, but Hannah?”

“Princess Hannah,” he corrected, trying not to be distracted by the heat of her hand on his aching shaft. “Emmeline’s twin sister, and a Princess of Brabant.” He lowered his head, brushed his lips across hers and then kissed her again, wetting her lips with a flick of his tongue. “My Princess of Brabant.”

She gasped and shivered against him, her hands pressed to his chest. “Um, King Patek, can we lock the door?”

“I think that’s an excellent idea.” He cupped her face, kissed her deeply, parting her lips to take her mouth completely. “Can’t wait to do that to your body,” he growled. “I’ve missed you. Missed everything about you.”

She kissed him back, legs wrapping around his hips, so turned on she was trembling. “Zale, I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

The corner of her mouth tilted in a wicked little smile as she lightly scratched her nails down his chest. “Prove it.” “Don’t you worry, Princess. I will.”