Royal Babies: Claiming His Secret Royal Heir / Pregnant with a Royal Baby! / Secret Child, Royal Scandal

‘Chiku, papaya, guava, pineapple, rambutan. They all taste different and they are all delicious.’

He reached for a chiku—a fruit he’d never heard of. ‘It looks like a potato.’

‘Wait until you taste it.’

He halved the fruit to reveal pinkish flesh seeded with a mere three black seeds. He scooped out a spoonful and blinked at the intense sweetness.

‘Better than cotton candy.’

She smiled, and once again relief touched him.

‘About last night...’ he said. ‘I know marriage isn’t your ideal option, but I am very glad you said yes.’

‘It isn’t, but it is the best option on the table and I’ve decided to make the best of it. Perhaps if I’d been more upfront two years ago we wouldn’t be in this mess. But we are, and I’ll do my best to be positive about the marriage idea.’

‘Our marriage doesn’t have to be a mess. I think we can make this work. For Amil and for us.’

A pause, and then she nodded. ‘I’ll try. So, what’s the next step in Project Marriage?’

There was no room for further doubts or any more discussion with his conscience. Project Marriage was what he wanted and what he believed to be right for them all. Yet for some reason he felt restless, as if the beauty of the surroundings was somehow tainted. This was the sort of place where real couples should sit and plan their future—couples foolish enough to believe in the concept of love.

‘We need a plan, but I suggest we move this discussion to somewhere else. Is there anything you want to see in Goa? We could hit the beach...visit the old quarter...’

In truth he didn’t care—he needed to move, to get on with the business of the day away from this tranquil fairy tale setting that seemed to accuse him of having behaved like his father, however much logic told him he hadn’t.

Sunita thought for a moment, her tawny eyes dreamy, as if the question needed deeper consideration than it appeared to warrant.

‘I’d like to go to the Dudhsagar Falls.’

There was a nuance in her voice he couldn’t identify. ‘Any reason?’

For a second she hesitated, then she shrugged. ‘My parents came to Goa together and they visited the falls. It’s one of the few memories my mother ever shared about them both—she said it was important sometimes to remember the happy memories or they would all crumble to dust.’

She picked up a rambutan, rolled the lychee-like fruit almost like a dice.

‘I’m not entirely sure what she meant, but I’d like to go somewhere she was happy. Even if that happiness was no more than a mirage.’

He had the feeling that right now Sunita missed her mother—and who could blame her? She was about to step into a whole new world that she didn’t want to enter.

‘I’m sorry you lost her, Sunita.’

‘Me too. But I do feel lucky I had her for the time I did.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t know the details, but I’m guessing you didn’t have much time with your mum.’

‘No.’

Even before the divorce his mother had spent minimal time with him—at least until the divorce proceedings were underway. Then it had all changed, and even now he could remember the glorious happiness his three-year-old self had felt—not the detail, but the joy that finally his mother wanted his company, would hug him, take him out... And then abruptly it had all ceased. She’d gone before the ink had even dried on the papers. The whole ‘loving mother’ act had been exactly that—an act undertaken to up her settlement.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No need. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.’

The words came out rougher than he’d intended, but he didn’t want her compassion. He’d got over his mother’s abandonment long ago, buried those emotions along with the rest.

Pulling out his phone, he did a check on the falls, scanned the information. ‘The falls it is—I’ll speak to Security, see how close they can get us. Looks like the official road is closed off because of monsoon season, but I’m sure we can get something sorted.’

‘Actually, I wondered if we could do what my parents did and walk along the railway track to get there. Just us—no security. I know they’re discreet, but today I’d like to be just Frederick and Sunita—before we get caught up in the reality of being a royal couple.’

The wistfulness in her voice decided him—alongside the fact that, however much he trusted his staff, it made sense to thrash out the details of this marriage in private. Plus if he was being honest with himself, he too wanted to be ‘just Frederick and Sunita’ for one day. To put aside the burden of ruling and his complex need for this marriage for one day.

‘Sounds like a plan.’

Surprise etched her face. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. Tell me the route they took and I’ll figure it out.’

She grinned. ‘I think they came back on a goods train.’

‘We can manage that.’

‘The Prince and his future consort hopping on a goods train? I like it.’

Her smile broadened and it caught at his heart, causing a sudden unfamiliar tug of hope that perhaps this might all work out.

* * *

Sunita glanced up at the sky, and for the first time in the past forty-eight hours her thoughts slowed down as she absorbed the grandeur of the bright grey monsoon clouds.

Most tourists flocked to India in the summer months, but she loved monsoon—always had, even as a child. Loved the drum of the rain, which brought the country much needed water and succour from heat, and lavished verdant green to the trees and fields.

‘It doesn’t seem possible that there can be so many different shades of green—it makes me wish I could paint, somehow capture all this.’ Her outswept arm encapsulated the winding track, the surrounding green and the skies above. ‘Photos never seem to catch the reality of it—they look fake, somehow.’

‘Then commit it to memory,’ Frederick said, putting out a hand to steady her as she stumbled slightly over an awkward rock.

The touch of his hand against hers almost made her gasp out loud, adding an extra level to her already overcrowded senses. In an almost involuntary movement she clasped her fingers around his.

‘Like my mother did. She described this walk to me so many times it almost felt like a story.’

Perhaps a real-life fairy tale, in which a moment of happiness had not led to a lifetime of happily-ever-after.

‘It’s odd to think that they walked here once...maybe took the exact same steps we’re taking now.’ She turned to him. ‘You must feel that a lot as a ruler—the idea of history being always around you. Your ancestors’ spirits looking over your shoulders.’

For an instant she’d swear a small shiver shot through him, and understanding smote her. Perhaps for him it was the spirit of his older brother that haunted his every move and decision.

Yet his voice was light as he answered, ‘I am more worried about current judgement and the opinion of posterity than the line of my progenitors.’

He slowed as they approached a tunnel, half turning for evidence of any oncoming train.

They stepped inside the dark and now it was her turn to shiver at the dank confines. Water trickled down the damp mossy walls and he tightened his grip on her hand. Without thought she moved closer to the strength of his body.