“And yet you feel the need to break it now?” he drawled sarcastically.
“Yes.”
He turned around, folded his arms across his chest. “Why?” “It might change everything.”
No, he really couldn’t deal with her now, not if she insisted on talking about secrets and blood vows and other silly games. “What would?”
“The truth.”
“Mrs. Sivka, please.”
Her round face creased. “There were two babies, Your Majesty. Two baby girls, not one. Princess Emmeline and the infant princess, Jacqueline.”
Zale blinked. He’d heard what she said but it hadn’t fully registered. “What?”
“Princess Emmeline was one of two. She had a twin sister.” “That’s nonsense. Absolute fiction. King William would have told me if Emmeline had a twin—” “He didn’t know. No one knew—”
“Listen to yourself, Mrs. Sivka! I’m not Tinny. Not interested in make-believe.”
“This is true. I was there. I was there for Princess Jacqueline’s delivery at Marmont, the royal family’s hunting lodge in northern Brabant. Her Royal Highness’s nanny had been my best friend since childhood, and she’d asked me to be there, too, at the delivery. I was to take care of the newborn for the first few days while she tended to Princess Jacqueline.”
Mrs. Sivka took a quick breath, expression pleading, wanting him to understand, needing him to understand. “Of course I went, and we thought we were prepared for the delivery. It was a difficult delivery. No one expected twins, and although there was a midwife on hand, it became apparent that something was very wrong. Her Highness needed surgery. She was bleeding internally. But as you know, Marmont is remote, at least an hour’s drive from the nearest city, much less a modern hospital. We called for help but there was no helicopter available, no emergency medical team near us.” Her eyes turned pink and her mouth pressed thin. “Her Highness knew she was dying—”
She broke off as tears fell and she struggled to keep control. “Her Royal Highness was very brave, and quite calm. She was also very specific about what she wanted us to do. One baby was to go to her brother at the palace in Brabant. And the other baby was to go to the babies’ father in America. I took infant Princess Jacqueline to him with the news that Her Royal Highness had died in childbirth but she wanted him to have their child—”
“He knew Jacqueline had been pregnant?”
Mrs. Sivka nodded. “Her Royal Highness had written to him, told him, but her family wouldn’t give him access to her.”
“I can’t believe this.”
Mrs. Sivka’s shoulders twisted. “But I never told him he had another daughter. I couldn’t, not after the vow I made.” Zale was absolutely numb. “Why tell me this now?” “Because it changes everything.” “It changes nothing.” “You’re not listening then.”
“I am listening. Fairy tales and secrets and blood vows—”
“You don’t have to be afraid, Your Majesty.”
“Afraid?” he roared, hands clenched, fury blinding him. “You think I’m afraid?”
“Yes.” She folded her arms across her middle. “You did this very same thing when you were just a boy. You hated to be disappointed, hated pain, so you’d hurt yourself first so no one could make you hurt worse.”
“You can go, Mrs. Sivka.”
Mrs. Sivka didn’t budge. “Your Majesty, prayers do get answered, and there is goodness and justice in the world, not just pain. Because in your heart you already know the ending of my story.”
Zale ground his teeth together, muscles so tense he ached all over. “That what? This infant princess … this Jacqueline …?” “Is your Princess Hannah.”
Zale sat down abruptly on the windowsill, his legs no longer able to hold him. Can’t be. Can’t. Impossible.
“You shouldn’t tell tales,” he said roughly, hating Mrs. Sivka in that moment for torturing him like this when he had nothing left to go on. He needed to eat, needed to sleep, but most of all, he needed her, Hannah, his woman.
“I’ve never lied to you, Your Majesty. I wouldn’t start now.” Mrs. Sivka went to the door, opened it, revealing a wan-looking Hannah dressed in jeans and a white blouse, her hair loose and her stunning face scrubbed free of all makeup.
Hannah looked at him from across the library, blue eyes huge in her pale face. “Hello, Your Majesty.” Zale couldn’t breathe. Hannah. Here. Here.
And his. Princess or not. It didn’t matter. It would never matter. He’d gladly give up everything for a chance at a life with her.
Mrs. Sivka smiled broadly. “Your Majesty, may I present to you, Her Royal Highness, Hannah Jacqueline Smith.”
Zale didn’t know who