Royal Babies. Cat Schield

in its grip, squeezing out any coherent thought. All she could think of now was losing Amil for half of his childhood. Of Amil in Lycander with a stepmother—whichever new multilingual paragon of virtue Frederick eventually married—and half-siblings.

      History on repeat with a vengeance.

      Memories of her own humiliations, inflicted by the hands of her stepmother and her half-sisters—the put-downs, the differentiation, the horror—were chiselled on her very soul. No way would she risk that for Amil.

      ‘I won’t agree to joint custody. I can’t.’

      But she could see his point. She had already deprived him of fourteen months of Amil’s life—how could she expect him to settle for the occasional week? Regular phone calls and Skype? Would she settle for that? Never in a million years.

      She inclined her head. ‘All right. You win. I’ll marry you.’

      It looked as if Princess Sunita was about to enter the land of fairy tales. It was a good thing she knew that happy-ever-afters didn’t exist in real life.

       CHAPTER TEN

      ‘ALL RIGHT. YOU WIN. I’ll marry you.’

      The words seemed to haunt his dreams, and by the time the distinctive fluting whistle of a golden oriole penetrated his uneasy repose it was a relief to wake up, hop out of the slatted wooden bed and head for the shower. He could only hope the stream of water would wake him up to common sense.

      He had won, and there was nothing wrong with winning—it meant he would have a life with his son, would be able to give Amil his principality. That was good news, right?

      The problem was Sunita’s words had not been the only ones to permeate his sleeping mind. His father’s voice had also made a showing.

      ‘Every woman has a price. Find her weakness, exploit it and then you win, Freddy, m’boy.’

      He switched off the shower in a savage movement. Time to man up. Yes, he’d won—and that was OK. It was a cause to celebrate—not the equivalent of what his father had done. He was striving to keep Amil with Sunita full-time. He hadn’t destroyed a family—he’d created one. Ergo, he was not his father. It wasn’t as if he had threatened her with joint custody. It had been the only other option—an option he’d known she would knock back.

      Rationally, the facts were undeniable. Sometimes in life you had to choose between the rock and the hard place, and he’d done his best to make the rock a comfortable choice for her. He’d offered her the chance to be a princess—most women would have grabbed the baton and run with it.

      End of.

      Now it was time to figure out the next step.

      He pulled on chinos and a navy T-shirt and headed into the courtyard and the early-morning sunshine.

      ‘Over here.’

      He heard Sunita’s voice and spotted her sitting under the shade of a tree, simply dressed in a rainbow-striped sundress, sunglasses perched atop her raven hair. Sunlight filtered through the green leaves of the banyan tree, dappling her arms and the wood of the table, lighting up the tentative smile she offered as he approached.

      It was a smile that seemed to bathe his skin in the warmth of relief, pushing away any lingering doubts about his actions.

      ‘Hey.’

      ‘Hey...’ He sat down opposite and surveyed the array of fruit. ‘Wow.’

      ‘I know, right? It’s hard to know where to begin!’

      ‘I’m not even sure I can name them all.’

      ‘Chiku, papaya, guava, pineapple, rambutan. They all taste different and they are all delicious.’

      He reached for a chiku—a fruit he’d never heard of. ‘It looks like a potato.’

      ‘Wait until you taste it.’

      He halved the fruit to reveal pinkish flesh seeded with a mere three black seeds. He scooped out a spoonful and blinked at the intense sweetness.

      ‘Better than cotton candy.’

      She smiled, and once again relief touched him.

      ‘About last night...’ he said. ‘I know marriage isn’t your ideal option, but I am very glad you said yes.’

      ‘It isn’t, but it is the best option on the table and I’ve decided to make the best of it. Perhaps if I’d been more upfront two years ago we wouldn’t be in this mess. But we are, and I’ll do my best to be positive about the marriage idea.’

      ‘Our marriage doesn’t have to be a mess. I think we can make this work. For Amil and for us.’

      A pause, and then she nodded. ‘I’ll try. So, what’s the next step in Project Marriage?’

      There was no room for further doubts or any more discussion with his conscience. Project Marriage was what he wanted and what he believed to be right for them all. Yet for some reason he felt restless, as if the beauty of the surroundings was somehow tainted. This was the sort of place where real couples should sit and plan their future—couples foolish enough to believe in the concept of love.

      ‘We need a plan, but I suggest we move this discussion to somewhere else. Is there anything you want to see in Goa? We could hit the beach...visit the old quarter...’

      In truth he didn’t care—he needed to move, to get on with the business of the day away from this tranquil fairy tale setting that seemed to accuse him of having behaved like his father, however much logic told him he hadn’t.

      Sunita thought for a moment, her tawny eyes dreamy, as if the question needed deeper consideration than it appeared to warrant.

      ‘I’d like to go to the Dudhsagar Falls.’

      There was a nuance in her voice he couldn’t identify. ‘Any reason?’

      For a second she hesitated, then she shrugged. ‘My parents came to Goa together and they visited the falls. It’s one of the few memories my mother ever shared about them both—she said it was important sometimes to remember the happy memories or they would all crumble to dust.’

      She picked up a rambutan, rolled the lychee-like fruit almost like a dice.

      ‘I’m not entirely sure what she meant, but I’d like to go somewhere she was happy. Even if that happiness was no more than a mirage.’

      He had the feeling that right now Sunita missed her mother—and who could blame her? She was about to step into a whole new world that she didn’t want to enter.

      ‘I’m sorry you lost her, Sunita.’

      ‘Me too. But I do feel lucky I had her for the time I did.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t know the details, but I’m guessing you didn’t have much time with your mum.’

      ‘No.’

      Even before the divorce his mother had spent minimal time with him—at least until the divorce proceedings were underway. Then it had all changed, and even now he could remember the glorious happiness his three-year-old self had felt—not the detail, but the joy that finally his mother wanted his company, would hug him, take him out... And then abruptly it had all ceased. She’d gone before the ink had even dried on the papers. The whole ‘loving mother’ act had been exactly that—an act undertaken to up her settlement.

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘No need. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.’

      The words came out rougher than he’d intended, but he didn’t want her compassion. He’d got over his mother’s abandonment long ago, buried those emotions along with the rest.

      Pulling out his phone, he did a check on the