Charles pauses, clearly expecting me to offer that he can stay. I don’t.

“Okay,” he finally says before leaving the room.

I remain sitting, and Anne comes back over to the table. I look back out the window.

“Your Highness?” she asks expectantly.

I don’t say anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Anne shift awkwardly as the silence stretches out.

“I need a pregnancy test, Anne,” I finally manage. I keep my gaze trained outside. I don’t want to see her reaction.

There’s an even longer pause than there was before I spoke. Then, “Of course, Your Highness. I’ll send someone immediately. I’ll make sure they’re discreet.”

I look at her. “Anne, it’s not—it wouldn’t be Charles’s.”

She pales even more. “I’ll go myself. Stay here.”

I watch as she puts on a felt fedora and sunglasses and then rushes out of the room.

Two hours later, I sit on the edge of the pool, dangling my feet in the heated water. The wind whips my hair around my face.

Movement to my right startles me. I glance over to see my mother standing beside me. I move to stand, but to my surprise, she kicks off her heels and lowers herself next to me. She hikes up her silk trousers and tentatively dips her toes in the warm pool.

She doesn’t say anything at first. Finally, she speaks. “Anne mentioned you might want to talk.”

“Did she also mention I’m pregnant?” I ask the water.

My mother is silent for a long moment. “There’s no chance it’s Charles’s?” she finally asks.

“No, there’s not,” I admit.

There’s a pause, and then my mother says one of the last things I expect her to. “I guess he should have stayed at a hotel after all.”

I turn to look at her for the first time. “Are you seriously making a joke out of this?”

My mother looks sheepish for maybe the first time in my life. “It seems it’s a little late for anything else. Do you want a baby?”

“I never thought about it before. I knew—one day, I knew that I would need heirs. It always seemed like a long ways off. But—this isn’t just a baby. It’s…his.”

My mother nods once. “You have options. I’m sure Charles would…” she trails off without finishing the sentence, but we both know what she’s suggesting. “It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened,” she finishes quietly.

“No, I can’t do that. Jace knows things aren’t like that between Charles and me. He knows we haven’t—he would know it’s his. Even if he didn’t, I can’t keep something like this from him. It’d be wrong. He deserves to know.”

“So why haven’t you told him?”

“Because he would come back. He would give up his career, his family, his dreams, and come back.”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“Selfishly, yes. But not for him. And certainly not because he feels obligated to me because of a baby.”