Our weeks begin to pass quickly. Between our outings together in public where we are mobbed by angry onlookers and our days cooped inside our perfect piece of heaven within these gates, our time is fleeting. And each day that passes, I feel a burdening weight fall deeper onto my shoulders, keeping the secret I have.
I've had millions of opportunities to tell him but somehow, every time, something stopped me. Fear, I guess. Fear that everything will change. That our relationship will change when we're doing so well.
I'm staring into my soup, deep in my thoughts when I hear Henry say my name.
"Mia."
I look up, blinking into reality. Henry chuckles, awkwardly, across the table from me, holding the paper.
"Are you alright?"
I nod, smiling. "Yes, just tired."
"Do you need to lie down? You are looking very pale today."
I shake my head, grabbing my spoon. "I'm fine, really."
He holds up the paper after a moment, shaking his head. "My brother has really fucked this one up."
"His conservative views are only going to push the country further away from him."
He opens the paper, standing. He comes around the table to me, showing me the article. "Look at this. In this interview, his advisor said they're looking to bring back traditionalist customs, customs we've lost track of in this day and age. He's actually becoming regarded as a man who is discriminative against homosexuality."
"Is he against it?"
"Not that I know of. I fear it's the assembly he has around him. They're pushing him, they don't understand that pushing change is essential now, more than ever. And he's going to do what they say, since most of them worked with my grandmother."
"You look worried," I whisper, touching his hand.
Henry breathes in, straightening. "He is my brother. And being king is everything to him."
I squeeze his hand. "Why don't you call him?"
"What would me calling do?"
"You were his closest advisor when we were apart... he had to have a regard for your thoughts. Your words hold meaning for him. Even if you aren't there, you could still try to help him."
"He threw me from my own country," he says, looking down at me. I nod, slowly.
"You... do things with your heart, Henry. I know deep down you'll do what you think is right, as you always have."
...
I open my eyes, feeling Henry's hand against my forehead. His mouth is formed into a worrisome frown as he pulls back, but transforms warmly when he sees me waking.
"You're running a slight fever," he whispers, rubbing my leg. As much as I've tried, this cold hasn't faltered in strength. In fact, it's only getting worse. My nose is runny and red, my throat as rough as sandpaper. I've done everything I could, garnering all my strength so Henry wouldn't call a doctor. I told him it would raise suspicions, although the truth is a doctor would come here and out the news that I'm pregnant to Henry, which I'm avoiding at all costs.
I smile. "I'll be fine soon. The medicine will help."
"If the fever climbs any higher, I'm calling in a doctor, Mia. I don't care what you say." He sighs, clasping my hand. "I've brought some tea."
I groan, turning onto my side. "Not tea."
"Yes, tea. You're going to drink it... it will help." I keep my eyes closed, even when I hear his hands grab the china. "You can keep your eyes tight all you want but I'm not leaving until you take a sip."
I sigh, opening my eyes to glare at him. "Henry."
"Love?"
My lips turn up wryly. "Don't 'love' me. That's not fair."
"Never agreed to fair," he answers, holding out the cup to me. Begrudgingly, I begin to sit up.
...
The door opens, slowly, brightening the very dark bedroom. I open my eyes, coughing and the body beside me rustles.
Ivan is at the door. "Pardon me, your grace, but you have a guest."
I look at the clock, seeing it's midnight.
"This late?" I whisper. Ivan nods.
"Yes."
"Well, who is it?" Henry asks, after a moment of silence.
"The king," Ivan says. "Your brother, sir."
My eyes widen and I turn quickly, finding Henry looking particularly stunned. He clears his throat.
"Ivan, tell him I'll be out in a moment."
"Of course, sir."
The door shuts as Henry flicks on the light beside him on the nightstand.
"Why is he here? Do you know?" I whisper. He stands, walking to the dresser, grabbing his pajama pants from it.
"I called him, left a voicemail... I'm not sure if that was it. I don't understand why he's in France though. A call would have sufficed."
I sit up, pushing the covers back. As he buttons his pajama shirt, his brows curve together watching me.
"Oh, no. You're not getting up."
"Oh yes, I am. I'm going out there with you."
"You have a bloody fever, Mia!"
"We need to look united when he sees us, Henry. I'll stay for a bit and come back."
He sighs, grabbing my robe and walks over to me. "You are a stubborn woman."
I smile, taking it. "And you love me for it."
I put it on, tying the string. When I pull back, he leans forward, kissing my forehead, pushing my hair back from my face.
"Are you nervous?" I ask, after a moment. He pulls back, shaking his head.
"No, I just want to know why the hell he's here." He takes my hand. "Let's find out."
...
"Brother," Henry says, as we step into the sitting room. Richard turns, wearing a polo and slacks. He looks surprisingly fresh, considering it's the middle of the night.
"Henry, hello," Richard says, walking over to him. Even Henry looks surprised when Richard holds out his hand. They shake my hands uncomfortably before Richard looks at me.
"Mia... I hope you're well."
"She's actually under the weather right now, so not to be rude, but if you could inform us of the purpose of this visit... to France?" Henry asks, somewhat hostile. "Are you even allowed to take spontaneous trips?"
"It wasn't spontaneous. I am here for business... but I made the plan to detour here a few days ago, after I received your message."
"You could have called?"
"I know," Richard hums, nodding. Henry gestures for me to sit, resting his hand on my back gently.
"Well, while you're here, can I get you a brandy?"
"Yes, thank you," Richard utters. Henry looks at me but I shake my head, clasping my hands together. I feel Richards strong gaze. When I look at him, he smiles.
"I... do hope your illness is not too burdensome. Is it the flu?"
I shake my head. "A common cold. I will be fine soon. Thank you for asking, Your Majesty."
"You can call me Richard... I mean, we are practically family, in a way."
"Is that so?" Henry says curiously, holding two brandy's. He hands one to his brother, who looks down at the dark liquid.
"Henry, I've... I fear I've made quite a mess of things as of late."
"I'd say... who the hell is handling your press releases?"
"George."
"You should have him fired. He's turning the world against you." Henry takes a seat beside me, rubbing my back. I lean into him, finding the warmth of his body comforting. This room is freezing.
"These men hold much power, Henry. I don't have many on my side."
"You are King. Be powerful. You take the power, you don't give it."
"Which is what I plan to do... with you by my side again."
I look up at Richard, wide-eyed. Did he honestly... did he-
"What are you saying, Richard?" Henry asks, sternly.
"I'm asking you to come back to England, come back to serve your country."
Henry stands. "I'm sorry, but... am I getting this correctly? I was serving my country, pretty damn well I might add, until you threw me out, simply because I loved someone you did not approve of."
"I know."
"Why the hell would I come back to help you after that?" Henry asks, sounding angry. Really angry.
"I need you, Henry. You've always been there for me, even when you were out of control with your parties and-and women. You still cared for my well-fare. I need you now, before my administration tatters my reputation beyond repair."
"You're right. I have always been by your side, because I am your brother, Richard. You seemed to have forgotten that all those months ago. I had to choose between my country and Mia. You forced me to make that choice."
"I misjudged your relationship. I hadn't expected it to ever last this long... I hadn't expected for you to walk out on the wedding... Henry, just come back. I made a mistake and I am admitting that."
"We are happy here," Henry says, looking down at me. I remain silent, feeling lightheaded. I'm not sure if it's the fever or Richard's offer but I'm sure I need to get back to bed. "We've settled here."
"In a foreign country? France? Henry, I'm telling you to come home."
There's a silence that's deafening. I choose then to stand up. "I... am sorry. But I need to lie down, if that's alright."
Henry moves from his spot, coming to me. "I can take you."
I shake my head. "No... no. I'm fine."
His hand cups the back of my throat and I feel my burning heat against his palm. His brows crease and I know he feels it too. "I'll be right up," he whispers, kissing my forehead. I nod, looking to Richard.
"I'm sorry."
Richard holds up his hand, shaking his head. "Of course, please, get well."
I know I must look bad because Henry's hand drops from my neck to grasp my hand as I begin to walk away. He lets go reluctantly as I walk towards the stairs. The steps, which aren't steep at all, have me in a cold sweat by the time I reach the top. Knowing my fever is spiking, I reluctantly turn from the bed towards the bathroom in one last attempt to break this fever.
I step into the shower, hissing at the feel of the ice cold water. It's actually luke-warm but I don't get to feel that luxury. I stand underneath the water, unable to feel my legs. I'm too weak. Every hair on my body stands erect, as my body trembles.
I close my eyes, praying for the fever to break. Praying I won't have to tell Henry that I'm having his child... not while his brother is here.
I press my hands against the wall, after some time, coming to the realization that the second he sees me, he'll be calling for a doctor. It won't matter what I say. I have to tell him.
I have to do it.
I'm shutting off the shower, stepping out of it when the door opens. Henry is there, immediately coming towards me. I'm glad for it since I'm finding it hard to stand. He clasps my waist, helping me over to the door.
"Jesus, Mia. I could have helped you."
He grabs a towel as we walk back into the room. I wipe my nose on my arm as he runs the towel over me, through my hair. My heart is pounding through my chest.
"Here, love," he whispers, pulling back the comforter. I take a seat, teeth chattering.
"Henry."
"Yes?" he breathes.
"I-I'm going to need a doctor."
He stares at me, blinking momentarily before he nods. "I'll... send for one right now."
He clasps my face gently before he turns. I quickly reach out for his hand, gasping. Surprised, he turns, looking at our hands entwined. Oh god, I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready.
"What is it?" he asks, after a moment of silence on my part. "Mia?"
"I-I am... pregnant," I utter, deliriously, forcing the words out. As I catch the words sinking in, his eyes widen, larger than I've ever seen them.
"W-what?"
"I'm pregnant, Henry," I repeat, nervously. In that moment, he lets go of me, and sprints for the door.
"Ivan! Call the doctor, NOW!"