The Billionaire Prince’s Pregnant Fiancée by Leslie North

14

It seemed like forever since Clara had been in the small charity cafe, but she agreed to meet Holly there, just two days after her regrettable outburst at the trade summit. Tonight would be the gala, the big, dressy event that would tie up the entire conference, and Clara couldn't wait—not because she was dying to dress up and party, but because it would put the whole embarrassing thing behind her.

"Clara," Holly said, giving air kisses on either cheek. "It's so good to see you. How are you adjusting?"

"I've been better." She turned to the waiter, who brought her a cup of herbal tea and a yogurt parfait. "Thank you, Johann."

The man—barely more than a boy, really—smiled shyly, then shuffled away. She was glad she'd remembered his name. She knew that she had some people stare and murmur when she came in, especially with the bodyguard hovering by the front door, but she liked this cafe. It was cozy, and nice, and reminded her a lot of the cafe where her mother worked, except it had a nice, new flatscreen telly mounted against one wall. It was currently playing some morning talk show, the volume on very low. A few other people were dotted around various tables. She leaned back.

"I suppose you've seen the tabloids, then," Holly said with a wince.

Clara lifted a small stack of newspapers from one of the chairs near her. Holly picked one, opening it with a shake. "Is Prince Erik letting his new girlfriend make all his decisions?" Holly read, then grimaced. "Um, hello. You're his fiancée, not his girlfriend."

"I personally liked the one that has the comic of me yelling with a vein sticking out of my forehead, while he cowers and holds my purse," Clara tried to joke, then poked at her parfait with her spoon. It wasn't funny, not remotely. "Damn it, Erik is a strong person, and I know I'm not running his life. I made one slip, and then things just sort of went wrong!"

"I see that Aldland wasted no time in making their opinion known," Holly said sourly. "I hate those guys. I had to do an interview, preparing for the trade summit, and I swear the guy was an absolute creep. Kept looking at my blouse, you know the way. I finally had to ask if I'd dropped some mustard or something to get him to stop staring so obviously."

"Creep barely scratches the surface," Clara said, seeing yet another article and growling softly. "And listen to this! ‘Aldland is disappointed in Fervia's openness to outside influence. The young prince has only been engaged for a month... if he is this easily influenced, perhaps its best that he be removed from political decisions altogether, as well as’... oh my God!"

Holly blinked. "What?"

"He's saying that Erik should basically be banished! What an utter, unspeakable arse!" Clara hissed. She forced herself to take deep breaths, then took a fortifying cup of tea. "It's not fair. It simply isn't fair."

"Who said politics was fair?" Holly said with a wry grin.

“Well, this is more than unfair. This is petty, and pointless,” Clara said. She forced herself to eat a few spoonfuls of yogurt. It really was tasty—creamy vanilla yogurt, with fresh berries and obviously homemade granola. She sighed softly. Thank God the morning sickness had largely passed.

"Pointless, why?" Holly asked.

Clara bit her lip. "Holly—can I trust you?"

Holly nodded. "I promise. We've known each other a while, and even if we didn't, I take my journalistic ethics seriously. I'm not going to put you in a bad position, just for a story. I couldn't live with myself."

Clara believed her. She took another deep breath, then leaned forward, pitching her voice low. "The Aldland trade delegation has signed the agreements. They weren't happy, and the provisions they wanted—which were bigoted and homophobic and transphobic and, God, you wouldn't believe the list of things they wanted to hit with economic punishment—anyway, they were removed."

"Ugh. It doesn't surprise me at all that they'd have those kinds of tariffs," Holly said, rolling her eyes. "It's so funny, how they decry 'moral decency' while they're trying to X-ray through your bra, I swear."

"I know!" Clara agreed, shaking her head. "I almost wish I'd seen them when they had to swallow those provisions, but I wasn't at that meeting."

Holly's eyebrows went up.

"I'd caused enough problems the day before," Clara explained.

"But you want to be a politician," Holly said, so simply that it almost hurt Clara's heart. "And from what I've heard, you clarified very salient points. Why would you miss the next day's meeting? I'd have thought you wanted to show them they couldn't cow you."

"You see the comics, the articles. They're already giving Erik a hard time about all of this. I didn't want to make things worse for him."

Holly nodded, but she looked sad. "I say this because I care," she said cautiously, then continued, "but Erik is a grown man."

"And?" Clara asked, blinking with surprise.

"And he can take care of himself," Holly said.

"He wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for me, though," Clara protested. "I was the one who interjected herself into the discussion, who forced their hands. And I can guarantee the King was none too thrilled that I decided to step up and make a trade negotiation The Clara Show!"

"Were you, though?" Holly protested. "Erik said he wanted you there. If the King had a problem with it, he could have kept you out of it."

"I think he expected me to sit there and look pretty, though," Clara said with a sigh. "And he certainly didn't mind me missing the next day's meeting."

"He's a traditionalist," Holly agreed, sipping her own latte. "In the few years I've been covering Fervia, I do know that he's staunchly protective of his family, and this country. I can't imagine him pushing hurtful legislation. He's not a hard-liner."

"Still, I'm not a Fervian yet." Clara felt disappointment settle in her chest. "And even when I do marry Erik, I don't want to be the reason for his father's disappointment, you know?"

Holly surprised her with a laugh. "Dear, that man went to university to study music, when every other royal son of Fervia went into some kind of international diplomacy or business or similar major," she said. "He even had a gap year that he spent traveling through South America and Asia, learning more about traditional music and electronic music, of all things. He's not what the King had expected for a son, that's for sure. I sincerely doubt that he's going to be disappointed that Erik married a woman who is actually interested in politics."

Clara nibbled away at her yogurt, unsure of how to feel about that. She knew that Erik's choice of study had been unconventional, but she hadn't realized just how much he'd swam against the current with that particular choice. "So, you think the King might approve of me for Erik?"

"I would think he'd be pleased to have you as a daughter-in-law."

Clara grinned. "You're just saying that because you're my friend."

"Well, I would like to think I'm your friend," Holly agreed. "But I also think it's true. Are you ready for the gala tonight?"

"Yes. The royal stylist got me this amazing mermaid dress, you won't..."

Before she could finish the sentence, she saw her own face pop up on the television screen. Obviously, the morning show was discussing her. "I'm sorry, Johann. Could you turn that up, please?"

Johann quickly got the remote, turning up the volume. The show's female host was discussing the party headquarters where Clara had volunteered. "So, late breaking news out of England. Popular politician Terrence Abercrombie is now in the middle of a scandalous affair with one of his former aides, who turned up pregnant and confronted him at a presser where he was announcing his re-election bid."

Clara gasped, turning to Holly. "Do you remember him? Oh my God! I was working the office when he was starting his first election run!"

"I interviewed him," Holly agreed. "But why...?"

Clara's picture flashed back up. "Since Abercrombie's dirty secret has emerged, other women with whom he had a sexual relationship are emerging. It looks like Mr. A was busy!" the male host said with a too-boisterous laugh.

"I do wonder how he had time to legislate," the female host agreed, with a cat-like, vicious smile. "And it turns out the future Fervian princess, Clara Campbell, was a volunteer in his very campaign, just a few years ago."

"It also turns out," the male host said, his tone salacious, "Ms. Campbell had to leave the campaign before he had finished his run, abandoning the party headquarters and her volunteering duties for a number of months. Why?"

Clara's mouth fell open.

"The official reason is apparently 'medical reasons,' which seems conveniently vague," the female host said.

"Medical reasons can cover a lot of ground," the male host said. "I mean, pregnancy is technically a medical concern."

"Not that anyone is saying that Ms. Campbell was pregnant," the female host added quickly, as if she suddenly remembered the potential legal liability of the situation. "But there doesn't seem to be any corroborating evidence behind her alleged illness, so it does make you wonder, doesn't it? It wasn't like she'd stopped working at her day job. She'd simply stopped volunteering for the campaign."

"It certainly makes me think twice," the male host said.

Clara felt tears stinging her eyes. "But it was..." She turned to Holly. "I had a terrible case of bronchitis, for God's sake! It seemed like I spent the better part of two months having trouble breathing, coughing like a smoker, and collapsing into bed at every opportunity. I would have taken more time off work, too, but I didn't have the time and I needed to pay bills, so obviously I couldn’t prioritize working for free. What would they have me do? What the hell are they expecting?"

"Someone got fed this story," Holly said darkly. "Let me see if I can ferret around a bit, but I'll bet that Aldland did some digging, and decided to give you a hard time. That Terrence got caught was simply something they could take advantage of."

"Oh, God." Clara felt the blood leave her face. "Erik. He's going to hear about this... he's going to think..."

"No," Holly said quickly. "Erik will trust you. And he'll believe you."

"But it's going to make him look bad." Clara’s stomach knotted. It seemed like every time she turned around, her presence, and her attempts at helping Erik, just exploded in her face like grenades.

"I told you that he loves you," Holly said reassuringly. "Why don't you go up to the castle, talk to him before the gala? I'm sure you'll be able to get things cleared up. And if you decide you don't want to go to the gala—if, indeed, Aldland is behind all this—then that's fine. But either way, forewarned is forearmed, and communication is a key in any relationship. Talk to him."

Clara nodded. “You're good at this."

"Married for five years now," Holly said with a grin. "I'm still learning, but it's nice to share some of the lessons, you know?"

"All right," Clara joked, "but if Erik decides I'm too much trouble and kicks me out, I'm going to crash in your living room until I can make my way back to London."

"If he kicks you out, I'll put you up in our spare, like you were my very own aunt," Holly promised, making Clara laugh, a broken, jagged sound. "Now go on. You'll feel better for it."

If only that were true, Clara thought. But she paid the bill, then had the driver take her back up to the castle. She'd discuss this all with Erik, and they'd figure out what to do next, about Aldland, about Erik's reputation, about Clara's future role in the Fervian royal court... about everything.