to let that happen, and I think my grandparents would have read my father the riot act if he even approached them with the idea. Out of duty, I know he never would have.
“So they got on with it,” he continues. “I was conceived to produce the required heir. Christian, the spare. Then a few years later, they were thrust into the role of king and queen and all the pressure surrounding that. The rows began to escalate from bickering to screaming matches Christian and I could hear behind closed doors. I would hear glass shatter and doors slamming and threats upon threats if my father dared to file for divorce. Mother vowed she would ruin him if he did it. How she would split the public, and a lot of them would hate him, and it would destroy everything the monarchy stood for. And that his father, King Phillip, would die of shame if he could see his son now. And that did it. The threats were always enough to make my father back down.”
My head is spinning. This picture, of a hateful queen, a king loyal to the crown above all happiness, and two boys witnessing this awful example of marriage sounds like an absolute nightmare.
“My God,” I whisper.
“Then there’s the family secret. I’ve never told anyone this. Christian knows, and he told Clementine, as there are no secrets between them. Just like I don’t want any secrets between us,” he says. “But my cousins do not know. Nor does James. Because the secret is about him.”
My throat grows dry. I know I’m about to learn something horrible, something awful, and something I will never tell another soul. But I’m also struck by how vulnerable Xander is in this moment, and how much trust he is putting in me.
I move my hand to the side of his face, caressing it. “I promise you, whatever you tell me stays with me. It won’t be spoken of unless it’s with you.”
Xander places his hand over mine and brings it to his lips, kissing it. “I know. I wouldn’t tell you if I believed otherwise.”
He moves my hand to his chest, holding it there. I feel his heart beating against my palm, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to speak.
“You probably don’t remember this, but there was a time when the tabloids were speculating that my parents’ marriage was in trouble,” Xander begins.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”
“You would have been too young,” Xander says. “The suits in the palace—the team that runs the show, so to speak—knew the marriage was in trouble. They began to limit joint appearances. Well, as you can imagine, the press jumped on this and began dissecting pictures, noting how my father looked miserable. Divorce rumours were rampant in the tabloids, and lo and behold, my mother is suddenly expecting a baby.”
My heart is pounding in my ears. “What?”
“Mother got pregnant to distract the press, to kill the divorce rumours,” Xander says. “And I know it’s true because I heard her say it.”
“No,” I gasp.
“It was when James was three,” Xander says, his voice quiet. “My nanny took Christian and I upstairs to say good night, and my parents didn’t have the door to the sitting room completely shut. And they were screaming at each other. Then my mother spat out that she only had James to cement the marriage in the public view, that James was to prove the marriage wasn’t a sham, and that my father was a fool if he thought the baby was to reconcile. As Christian and I have said over and over, both are horrible reasons to have a baby.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my voice thick. “No child should have to hear those things.”
Xander shifts his gaze away from me to the flames flickering in the fireplace. “No. No child should. Christian and I have vowed to protect James from the truth. He loves our mother, no matter what she does, and this would destroy him.”
I nod. I lean my head onto his shoulder, admiration flooding my heart for how strong Xander is.
“But we put on a good show, don’t we?” Xander quips, breaking the silence. “Christmas Day, for example. We look the picture of a happy family as we walk together to church but as soon as we’re home and behind closed doors, that’s when the rows begin. What a lovely way to spend Christmas
“I’m still trying to get my head around this,” I admit.