34| Scare

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Chapter 34: Scare (Nicholas' POV)

When I was done getting dressed and I came back out, she was fast asleep. I didn't want to wake her so I just kissed her forehead and then left. I was going straight down to the library where I was planning on sitting and making notes for my first council meeting but I ran into my mother on the way there. 

"Goodmorning," she smiled. 

"Morning," I sighed, stopping and turning to her. 

"Is something wrong? You seem worried," she frowned in confusion. 

"I was until this morning," I cleared my throat, scratching my brow. 

"How come? What happened?" she questioned. 

"We had... a scare," I mumbled. 

"A scare?" she frowned in confusion before gasping in realization. "A pregnancy scare?" she whispered. 

I nodded. "But she's not pregnant. So... that's good. I guess," I mumbled the last bit under my breath. 

She stared at me quizzically and I stood still under her gaze. "Oh, honey," she sighed, squeezing my cheeks. 

I scrunched up my nose and pulled back. "What are you doing?" I rubbed my cheeks that were now sore thanks to her. 

"You want to be a father," she sang, smiling widely. 

"What?" I scoffed. 

"You cannot lie to your mother. It's just not possible for you to do it. You want a baby, don't you?" she asked softly. 

"No," I shook my head. 

"Nicholas," she said sternly. 

I looked down at her, refusing to admit it. "It doesn't matter what I want." I shook my head again. 

"Of course it matters, Nicholas. Her thoughts just matter a little more. Ultimately, she'll be the one doing it all. Carrying the baby, delivering it, raising it for the most part, with your help of course. She has to be ready, right?" 

"I know that mother," I sighed. 

"God," she groaned. "It would be so much simpler if your father just died." 

I stared at her, my eyes wide, my lips parting in shock. "Do not say that, because I will make it happen," I scoffed. 

"I pray God does," she mumbled under her breath while I turned and started walking to the library. 

I had been there for about an hour even though I finished the work within thirty minutes. I was thinking about it now. 

Having my father killed. 

Nobody would react. I know that. Because it has happened numerous times in our legacy. A newly made king having the former king killed. I know my father made it happen. But I would hate myself to be like my father. 

I heard the doors opening and then closing softly. I stared at the papers in front of me while faint footsteps came nearer. I looked up when they came into sight. 

"Hi," she whispered with a smile. "What are you doing?" She pulled the chair beside mine and took a seat. 

"Thinking," I mumbled, tapping my fingers against the table. 

"About?" she asked. 

"Having my father killed." 

Her smile faltered and she looked at me with calculating eyes. "Are you serious?" 

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