Maisey Yates - The Queen's Baby Scandal

“Mr. Bianchi…”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not going to make an international incident. Provided she falls in line.”

“WHAT THE HELL were you thinking?”

The voice boomed.

“Excellent,” Latika said, her tone dripping with disdain. “His Majesty King Gunnar has arrived. Oh, wait. But he is not king, is he?”

“I still outrank you ,” Astrid’s brother said, sweeping into the room, each one of his thirty-three years evident on his face thanks to years of hard living. “And lest you become confused, darling Latika, I don’t covet my sister’s position. In fact, I would rather die. However, I do have some opinions on how she might conduct her business.”

“That’s very fascinating,” Astrid said. “Except it is not.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his tone turning fierce, and she felt momentarily bad for her anger. Momentarily.

“Because. Telling you defeats the purpose. This is no one’s business but mine. And that’s the entire point of it. My heir. No one else’s.”

“Except, there is someone, isn’t there?” Gunnar asked. “I know how these things work.”

“Science is a wonderful thing,” Astrid said drily. “Perhaps that was the method I employed to find myself with child.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me,” Gunnar said.

“No,” she responded. “But you didn’t have to return to Bjornland on my account.”

“I fear very much that I did. You have created an incident.”

“You create incidents nightly, brother dear.”

“I am not the heir, Astrid. And I am a man. You know that unfair as it is… It is different.”

“There is no incident,” Astrid insisted. “I am well within my rights to do this. I have done all of the research required to discern that.”

“Father’s council will oppose you. That is their function. To keep control and power, to keep traditions. To curb your power, because father believed that men were best left in charge and not women at all.”

“They can try,” Astrid said. “But they won’t succeed. They will not, and they cannot. Don’t you think, Gunnar, that I made absolutely sure I could not legally fail in this before committing?”

Gunnar shook his head. “You underestimate the power of old men who feel their traditions are being threatened.”

“This is a very old law,” Astrid said, looking square at her brother. They could not be more opposite in temperament. Gunnar was a risk taker. The rebel prince who spent his life skydiving out of planes, serving in the military and piloting helicopters. Who would have been perfectly at home at a club party like the one Astrid had attended only three months ago. When she had turned her world upside down, and made a choice to wrest control of her life away from the hands of those men he was talking about now.

He was like a Viking. His eyes the color of ice, his hair blond. His beard a darker gold that gave him a roguish appearance the press waxed poetic about.

The Viking Prince.

He was also her very best friend in the entire world, in spite of the fact that he was a massive pain. Latika saw him only as a pain, that much was clear. The feeling, it often seemed, was mutual.

“I have not underestimated anything. And I’m prepared for a fight. But there is a reason that I could let no one know before I made my announcement public. I also made sure that every media outlet was aware of the law in Bjornland. The one that protects the queen should she need to claim an heir as solely hers. Well, Latika ensured that made its way out to everyone.”

“Did you?” Gunnar asked. “Just how involved with all of this were you?”

“Latika does what I ask her to,” Astrid said.

Latika held up a hand and arched her dark brow. “It’s all right. I don’t need you to protect me from him. I have done my duty by my queen. And by this country. I may not be a citizen by birth, but I swear my allegiance, and you well know it.”

“For now. Until you go back to America. And then, all of these problems will be ours and ours alone.”

“Problems that I willingly took on,” she said, her tone firm. “I am a queen, I am not a child.”

“Your Majesty.” One of her guards rushed into the room, his expression harried. “It seems that we have an uninvited guest at the palace, and while we had thought to shoot him on sight, he is quite famous.”

Astrid blinked. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“A man has walked into the palace without permission,” the guard clarified.

“Then why didn’t you shoot him?” Gunnar asked.

“The fame,” the other man said. “We would be liable to create an international incident.”

“Who is it?” Astrid asked.

“Mauro Bianchi.”

Astrid’s stomach clenched, the blood in her veins turning to ice. There was no way. No possible way that he could know. She just didn’t give him that much credit. That he would recognize her. That he would care.

“What does he want?”

“He wishes to see you.”

“Now I really don’t like this,” Gunnar said. “Please tell me that this man was not involved in the creation of your child.”

“Define involved ,” Astrid said.

“You know exactly what I mean. Don’t play coy, particularly if you don’t want to be treated like a child.”

“The child is mine,” Astrid repeated. “And mine alone.”

“Please speak to him?”

“Yes,” Astrid said. “I will speak to him.”

“And I shall accompany you,” Gunnar said.

“No,” Astrid said. “I will speak to him alone.”

“You’re not my queen,” Gunnar pointed out.

“I was unaware that you had become an expat of our beloved country, my dear brother.”

“You are my sister,” he said. “And that takes precedence over any title.”

“Then as my brother I ask you to respect my wishes. The fact that men would not respect my wishes is the reason this is happening.”

“I understand,” he said. “I understand full well why you feel you had to do this, Astrid. But you’re not alone. You have my support, and you will have my protection.”

“I don’t need it,” Astrid said. “I possess the power to command that he be shot on sight. Frankly, I could ask the same of you.”

“Were you… Issuing an order?” her guard asked.

“Not yet.” Astrid flicked a glance between her brother and Latika. “Will you please keep an eye on him?”

“I don’t get paid to babysit,” Latika pointed out.

“And I receive no compensation for spending time in the company of a snarling American,” Gunnar bit out. “But here we are.”

Astrid left, muttering about how she wouldn’t have to have him shot on sight, as he and Latika were just as likely to kill each other during her absence.

She made her way out into the antechamber of the Royal Palace, her heels clicking on the marble floor. When she saw him, her stomach dropped. His impact had not been diminished by their time apart. Not in the least. In fact, if anything, her response to him was even deeper. More visceral. Possibly because she knew exactly what he could make her feel now.

“May I help you?” she asked.

He stopped and reached into his jacket, and all of the guards in the room put their hands on their weapons.

“Stand down,” Astrid said. “He isn’t going to shoot me.”

“Not at all,” he responded. Instead, when he pulled his hand out, he was holding a shoe. Her shoe.

“I had thought that you might possess its partner.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that so? Alice .”