Shock Heir For The Crown Prince

Yes. That. Her daughter wasn’t used to sharing and Ana had no explanation whatsoever for the kiss. ‘Okay, we’ll add a dying king and a prince—who is a donkey—to the story.’

‘Is he really my father?’ Sophia asked abruptly, and there was a world of hurt in her voice and no little accusation.

‘Yes.’

‘You said he was dead.’

‘I know. I thought—’ I thought it better to tell you that than the truth. ‘I thought wrong.’

‘What does he want?’ Sophia asked next.

‘Right now he wants to protect us.’ Give the devil his due. ‘And then I think he wants to get to know you.’

‘You’re not leaving me here and going home, are you?’ Fierce golden eyes were even more breathtaking when they were vulnerable.

‘No. I will never do that.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise. What else do you want in this story?’

‘No frogs.’

‘Got it. No frogs.’

‘And no kisses,’ Sophia said fiercely.

‘Not even a mother’s goodnight kiss for the princess?’

Sophia hesitated. ‘Am I a princess?’

Pyjamas! Finally. ‘Here. Get changed and jump into bed and then there will be storytelling. As for whether you’re a princess or not... I don’t know. Your father’s a prince. He’s about to become a king. But he and I aren’t married, and that complicates things. It’s something else to ask when we see him next.’

Mothers were wise, and it was their duty to make chewable that which was complex. Or, in this case, to avoid talking about Casimir altogether.

‘So. Let me tell you a story about a castle and a dragon and a princess. You want to hear it in Russian or in French?’

* * *

An hour later, Sophia was asleep and Ana was in the other room, castle phone in hand and too afraid to use it. She needed advice and with that came confession. For seven years she’d shut her parents out as far as the identity of Sophia’s father was concerned. They’d helped her get back on her feet after Sophia had been born. With their financial help she’d been able to continue her studies and find childcare for her baby. They hadn’t let her fall. They’d supported her.