Jacqueline Diamond - The Improperly Pregnant Princess

Now that a year of mourning for Byrum had ended, her grandfather must have decided to hand the reins of power to Markus. Her cousin had made no secret of his eagerness to assume the role.

She wasn’t sure why Easton wanted to announce the transition to his granddaughters in person. The most likely explanation was that he sought the family’s support for the new king, along with their attendance at the coronation.

Of course they would go. CeCe only hoped her pregnancy wouldn’t be too obvious by that point.

“I’ve decided to step down from the throne,” Easton said.

CeCe nodded. It was what she’d assumed.

“We’re sorry to hear it,” Charlotte said.

“Don’t be. As long as I can hand Korosol to a strong, benevolent monarch, we should all rejoice.”

“When is the coronation to take place?” CeCe asked.

“That depends on you.”

“On us?”

“On you personally.” Easton studied her closely. “You see, Princess Cecelia, I’ve decided that you are to be my successor.”

In the stunned silence that followed King Easton’s announcement, CeCe became acutely aware of the ticking of an antique clock. Of the swirl of dust motes down long shafts of light. Of the swift thumping of her heart.

Was he joking? One look at his face told her otherwise.

Her mother and sisters sat frozen. If anyone had dared to light a bomb under Charlotte’s chair, she wouldn’t have stirred.

Queen of Korosol? Such a thought had never entered CeCe’s mind, even in those childhood days when she and her sisters used to play at being princesses for real.

Of course, they were princesses for real. Living in New York, however, those titles meant little beyond the interest they stirred among the status-conscious.

“I don’t even know Korosol,” she said, then realized how ungracious that sounded. “I mean, I don’t deserve this honor. I haven’t visited the country since I was nine.”

“I’m aware of that.” Her grandfather sank back on the couch, looking weary. “I blame myself for not insisting that you girls spend a month each summer with me. However, a businesswoman with your credentials should be able to familiarize yourself with Korosol’s needs rather quickly.”

Charlotte coughed before managing to speak. “Your Majesty, I’m astounded. We’re all incredibly grateful—”

The king lifted one hand to halt the flow of words. “It’s a lifelong commitment. Since my granddaughter hasn’t been prepared for it the way I was, I won’t try to force it on her.”

“Naturally, my daughter will do anything you ask,” Charlotte assured him.

CeCe couldn’t begin to absorb the ramifications of becoming a queen. Moreover, her grandfather’s decision puzzled her.

“Although I realize the law doesn’t require it, I always assumed Markus was next in line,” she said.

Her cousin, who was half a dozen years older than CeCe, maintained an apartment in New York and a playboy lifestyle. Having seen him often over the years, she found him charming at times and manipulative at others.

Thin frown lines puckered Easton’s forehead. “I have reason to believe my grandson may not be, well, quite right for the job. That’s all I care to say on the matter.”

Perhaps it was Markus’s occasional heavy drinking that bothered their grandfather, CeCe thought. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for her cousin, who’d mentioned several times how much he looked forward to assuming the throne.

“I think CeCe will make a wonderful queen,” Amelia said, fulfilling her accustomed role of peacekeeper.

“She’ll be terrific, if it’s what she really wants to do,” said Lucia.

Queen Cecelia of Korosol. CeCe was sophisticated enough to know how the world would trumpet the storybook elevation of a New York executive into such a romantic position.

Romantic to others, perhaps. She doubted Shane would be impressed. He’d made it clear he admired people for their accomplishments, not for what was simply handed to them.

That was one of the reasons that his respect meant so much to her. Until that embarrassing night they’d spent together, she’d secretly looked forward to their negotiations. The flare of approval on his face when she raised a point that he hadn’t considered, even when it came at his own expense, thrilled her.

She’d missed Shane these past few months. Even though he sometimes annoyed her, she came alive during their verbal battles.

Becoming queen meant CeCe would never again walk into her office and see him standing there. She would never be able to call him on the phone and ask his advice or outline her latest idea.

Of course, she wasn’t queen yet. Under the circumstances, she reminded herself, she probably never would be. Could she possibly have timed her pregnancy worse?

CeCe knew she ought to say something now, but she couldn’t bear to blurt out the truth and see the disgust on her grandfather’s face. Not to mention that Charlotte would squawk loud enough to set off car alarms for blocks.

Despite lacking a course of action, she still needed to give her grandfather a response. “It’s a tremendous opportunity,” she said. “One I’m not sure I’m ready to handle. Would it be all right if I think it over?”

“There’s nothing to think about!” snapped her mother. “If your father were here—”

“If Drake were here, he’d be pleased that she takes the matter so seriously,” said the king. “I’m glad you don’t grab at the chance to glorify yourself, Cecelia. You understand, as you should, that saying yes will change not only your life but the lives of thousands of people.”

It was a solemn responsibility to have all those people counting on her. CeCe had never shrunk from taking charge, and she wasn’t about to start now—if it turned out her grandfather still intended to give her the chance, once she figured out how to break her news to him.

“We’ll get to know each other over the next few days,” the king said. “That will give you a chance to weigh the matter, and me an opportunity to make sure you’re the right person to rule my land.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said.

The monarch rose stiffly to his feet. The four women jumped up also. “I want to make sure my room is arranged to my liking before Ellie leaves. I shall see you all at dinner.”

“Let me show you the way.” Charlotte accompanied him from the room.

The young women sat in stunned silence for a few minutes. Then Lucia said, “I’m glad he picked you and not me!”

“I can just imagine you turning the royal palace into an artists’ loft like the one you live in,” Amelia teased.

“Well, I am an artist, and I can’t live my life to please other people,” replied their younger sister.

“You’re the one who’d make a good queen, Amelia,” CeCe said. “You could still work with the International Children’s Foundation. I’m sure they’d love to have a queen as a figurehead.”

“I’m not a figurehead!” Amelia answered in a rare display of temper.

“Of course not. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Although CeCe didn’t know the details of her sister’s work, she couldn’t help noticing that Amelia vanished from the apartment for weeks at a time. Often, she suspected, to travel to war-torn lands.

The ICF, a nonprofit relief organization, rescued orphans overseas and found them good homes. Because of the risk of being kidnapped if anyone discovered her identity, Amelia worked and traveled under an assumed name.

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to take the job just because grandfather and mother want you to,” Lucia told CeCe. “Once you become a queen, you won’t have a moment to yourself. Forget about finding the right man, not that it’s so easy for the rest of us.”