The Dare Collection September 2018. Stefanie London
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      “What the hell are you talking about?” I ask.

      Benedict throws an arm around my shoulder. “Join me in the west wing and you’ll see.”

      I run a hand through my overgrown hair. “I was just starting a really riveting book. I think there are vampires in it. I really should finish it.”

      Benedict urges me out the door and pulls it shut behind me.

      “To the west wing,” he says again.

      I glance at my attire—a falling-open robe, pajama bottoms and suede slippers—and shrug.

      “Lead the way,” I say.

      Benedict walks slower than usual, making sure I keep up. Yet he’s silent the whole way. Whatever waits for us at our destination, Benedict doesn’t seem to want to tell me.

      And for good reason. When we arrive, Benedict pushes open a large oak door that leads to a sitting room, yet no one inside is sitting.

      Standing in an arc facing the door is my father, the king; my brother Nikolai and his wife, Kate, our soon-to-be king and queen; Benedict’s new bride, Evangeline; and in the middle of them all, quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, though I am still on some pretty heavy painkillers.

      She gasps when she sees me, and I realize I must look even worse to those who do not see me on a daily basis.

      “Damien,” Nikolai says, the first time he’s addressed me by name since I’ve been home. His voice is laced with disdain. He opens his mouth to finish whatever he wanted to say next, but the young woman rushes toward me.

      “Oh my God!” she cries, then reaches a hand toward my face. I flinch, and she pulls away.

      “What happened to you?” She pulls open my barely closed robe, spots the fading bruises over my ribs. “Damien. Tell me what’s been going on for the past two months.”

      I stare at her, my brow furrowed. Then it clicks.

      “Jesus,” I say, my gaze shifting to Benedict, then my father and Nikolai. “What the hell is the Princess of Nightgardin doing in the Edenvale Palace? Are you all out of your minds?”

      Nikolai crosses his arms. “So you do recognize her. Would you like to explain yourself?”

      I let out a bitter laugh, trying to bite back the pain. But the princess’s hand flies to her mouth. She notices my wince, and I hate that she is perceptive enough to register my weakness.

      “Of course I recognize her. I have read a newspaper or two in my absence—even turned the TV to the news once or twice. Just because I don’t—I mean didn’t—live in my own country, it’s not as if I abandoned all thoughts of home. I’ve kept up with what’s been going on in our enemy nation. Yet now you’ve gone and invited the enemy into our home. Would you like to explain yourself?”

      The princess rests a warm palm on my chest, and I raise a brow. Perhaps this day will prove quite interesting after all.

      “Tell them, Damien. Tell them I’m not a liar.”

      “Tell them what, exactly?” I ask, amusement lacing my tone.

      “About taking me home from the Veil. About our weekend in your Nightgardin penthouse.” She rests her other hand over her abdomen. “About making love to me for three days straight, planting your seed inside me—and then never coming for me like you promised you would.” Bitterness and hurt lace her tone as my head swims.

      I back away, my hands in the air as if someone points a gun at me, which this woman might as well be doing because what she is suggesting could mean an all-out war.

      “Slow down there, doll,” I say. “I’ve seen you in the papers and on TV, but I’ve never met you before in my life, let alone planted my seed in you. What crazy fucking game are you playing?”

      Her beautiful eyes fill with tears, but then she sniffs, straightens her shoulders and juts out her chin. “At least be man enough to say that weekend meant nothing to you instead of pretending like it never happened.”

      “Tell her, Your Highness.”

      I spin toward the door to find X standing right behind me, though I didn’t hear him approach. He does shit like this all the time. He’s not there...and then he is. To be honest, it freaks me the fuck out.

      “Tell her,” he says again, “how you lost the last year of your life.”

      Juliet

      “Lost a year? What do you mean by that?” I snap, my voice husky with raw emotion. So much for my years of finishing school. All those tedious lessons on decorum and personal grace fly out the window. I’m reeling. It wasn’t that I expected Damien to welcome me with open arms, be ready to parent our child and live a life beside me filled with sunshine, rainbows and unicorns as we danced cheek to cheek. But... I did harbor a mad secret hope.

      At the very least, I expected him to express some basic human emotion upon seeing me, even if it was simply to be filled with regret over our ill-advised fling.

      Never could I have expected that he’d disavow me altogether. The psychological blow is too much to take in my delicate condition. Sweat sheens my forehead as my stomach roils. Here it comes. A sickening sensation that is all too familiar of late. Oh no. Not now, I think, but like it or not, I’m going to be sick, and with no notice.

      “Highness.” X hands me a white paper bag, the same receptacle that one might find on a commercial airliner. I haven’t the first clue how he procured it from thin air, but I am grateful nonetheless.

      “Thank you,” I reply as regally as possible. And then I empty out the contents of my stomach in front of an audience that includes not only my erstwhile lover but his entire family.

      I am mired in one royal mess.

      In the end, when my breakfast is folded up in the bag and taken away by a maid, I force my gaze to greet theirs. These faces are all as familiar as my own. My entire life I have been taught about our enemy to the south, how Edenvale has always competed with Nightgardin for wealth, land and reputation.

      The bigger countries in Europe might chuckle at our border squabbles, but this animosity is no joke. It runs deep and cuts to the bone.

      In Nightgardin, children are taught from the time that they are weaned from their mother’s breast to never trust a citizen of Edenvale. Perhaps I should have been a better student.

      “She is with child,” X announces gravely. “And claims the child is Damien’s.”

      The collective gasp fills the room.

      Only Damien remains unmoved. “Bullshit,” he drawls, tightening the bathrobe he wears. “That’s impossible.”

      Prince Nikolai glances to him. “Is it, brother? I wasn’t familiar you possessed so much...restraint...around beautiful young women.”

      Princess Kate places a warning hand on her husband’s arm. “Darling. Deep breaths.”

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