Chapter Four
Henry did not sleep that night. Instead, he paced his chambers, listening to the soft heartbeats of his brides–and Leila–as they slept. He knew each one intimately and paused outside Cheri's door. She had been with him so long now, and her heartbeat wasn't as strong as it once was. It wouldn't be long before he lost her.
Tears filled his eyes, thinking of no longer having her counsel to help him when he needed her. It always hurt when one of his brides passed on. But the ache was eased knowing he had Rachel. The thought of one day losing her, though…
That won't be for years, he comforted himself. She's young and strong. With the proper care, she'll be with me for another century at least.
But thinking of her made him think of the child she carried and the fact that it meant his father would be gone within the year. Henry flinched, then sucked in a deep breath. Rachel had been so happy when she told him, so beautiful. The sparkling of her eyes and the curve of her smile had set his heart with its barely-existent beat skipping for joy.
He'd never felt this way for one of his brides before. He hadn't even thought of approaching Becky to see if she would be willing to share his bed. All he wanted was Rachel.
With a sigh, Henry retrieved the waistcoat he had discarded hours ago and straightened his appearance. He needed to inform his father about the situation. He didn't know how the king would react, and only hoped that he would have a solution that didn't include ending the pregnancy since Rachel clearly already loved the child. Perhaps there was another way out of this. If Henry went into self-exile, would he still be the prince? Would the curse on their bloodline hold?
Henry found his father in the hot springs with a group of his brides. The prince didn't know if they were naked, their bodies hidden by the steaming water and the red lights that vampires couldn't see clearly in for some reason. Still, he kept his gaze on his shoes as a sign of respect, and to avoid seeing something he shouldn't.
"Father, I need to speak with you."
"Regretting taking the two witches for your brides?" His father chuckled. "We can put them into training and you can have your pick of the leftovers. There're only slim pickings, now that the elite has chosen their brides, but—"
"No, thank you," Henry said, hands clenching at the thought of Rachel and Leila in 'training', wearing shock collars and being conditioned through fear and pain to be obedient to vampire wishes. It was another barbaric tradition he longed to be rid of. "It's another matter."
"Then it can wait."
"No, it can't. It's a matter of life and death."
After a moment of silence, the king groaned. "Go and wait in the antechamber."
Henry gladly obeyed the order, moving to the cooler, dryer chamber. It was lit with green, a gentle color, and he allowed himself to relax in its light for a moment. His father soon joined him, wearing a silk robe and an impatient expression.
"Well?"
"One of my brides is with a child."
Henry faced his father with straight shoulders. The king's already too-pale complexion paled further, and he swallowed hard.
"Which one?"
"Does it matter?" Henry didn't know why he didn't want to say Rachel's name. But he didn't. "I know the prophecies, but perhaps there is a way to circumvent fate. If I was allowed to leave the kingdom with my brides—"
"No." His father's eyes hardened. "How do you know she is pregnant? The old one is too old, and you have only had these new ones for a few weeks."
"She's pregnant. I know she is."
The king's eyes narrowed for a moment, then he nodded slowly. "I have no doubt you believe that. But before we make any sort of judgment, I need to know for certain. Bring this bride to my study. I will bring Debbie and she will tell us whether it is true or not."
Henry bowed. Debbie was the most powerful witch among his father's brides and served him well over the years. She loved him, which meant that training had been unnecessary. The prince couldn't help but think that was why her magic was more powerful than the others.
His mind turned back to Rachel as he returned to his chambers to retrieve her. Would Debbie see that she was a Seer? Was she that powerful? What would his father do if he knew?
Why haven't I told him yet?
When he woke Rachel, she was so tired that he carried her to his father's study. She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing in contentment. Henry kissed her forehead, trying to quell his nervousness. He and his father were close, but not close enough that he could know what the king was thinking.
Debbie and his father were already waiting for them when they arrived at the study. Rachel was much more awake by this time and clutched Henry's hand when he put her down and the king surveyed her.
"Come here," he ordered, his gaze boring into hers.
Rachel swallowed hard then stepped forward. Her hand never left Henry's, something his father noticed. A frown was directed at his son, then he nodded at Debbie. The witch placed a hand on Rachel's stomach. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she whispered a few strange words.
Almost at once she pulled back, gaze going to the king. "She is with child."
Henry couldn't breathe for a moment. Even though he already knew it was true, having been convinced by how confident Rachel was, hearing Debbie confirm it… He swallowed hard, looking at his father. Was there any way to stop fate from cruelly taking him away? What circumstances could possibly make Henry take his father's life himself?
The king's shoulders sagged as he met Henry's gaze. For a long moment, nobody moved. The two witches watched the two vampires. Rachel wrapped her arms around her middle, and Henry wanted to go to her, comfort her, but the horror of what this meant was too much.
His father was the first one to move. He strode forward, ignoring both Debbie and Rachel, and embraced his son. Henry couldn’t remember the last time his father had hugged him and gratefully returned the embrace, feeling like a little child again.
"What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice breaking. "I don't want this to happen–I'm not ready for you to go."
"Take my son's bride back to his chambers, Debbie."
The older witch put an arm around the younger one and guided her from the room. Henry met Rachel's eyes before they left, and he managed to give her a smile. They would figure this out somehow. There had to be a solution that wouldn't alienate Rachel from him.
"If I leave the kingdom, then perhaps…" Henry trailed off as his father shook his head.
"Even if you leave, the child being born heralds the end of my life. I am not ready to die yet, Henry."
Henry made himself stand straighter. Yes, the situation was not one he wanted, but he had to be strong. He was a prince, after all, his father's son, and he was not going to turn away from facing the truth.
"There is only one way to prevent this." His father gripped his shoulder. "The bride who carries your child must die."
Henry's eyes widened. His heart stopped, then thudded painfully. He yanked himself from his father's grasp. He could not be serious. Terminate the pregnancy, maybe. Wear those human rubber barriers to prevent her from getting with child again, yes. But kill her? No, he couldn't. He wouldn't. For the first time in his hundreds of years of existence, he knew what love truly was. He couldn't lose it now.
He was only aware that he was shaking his head when his father grabbed both his shoulders and shook him.
"Do you think that I take any pleasure in this, Henry? I can see the way you look at the girl. The way your face lights up when she's near. I know what it is like, that love that feels like you'll never be able to taste anything so lovely, so fulfilling. But you will find another bride that you love as much as this one, Henry. Do you think your mother was the first woman I loved?"
Henry swallowed hard.
"I hate to ask this of you. But it will be easier if you do it yourself. Trust me on this."
Even though he was always cold, a feeling of ice crept into Henry's chest as he realized what his father was saying. "I was not the first child that you fathered."
His father's shoulders slumped. "No. Before my father was ready to die, twenty of my brides got with child."
"And you killed them all." He could hardly choke the words out.
"I did what I had to. I loved them all. Don't think it was easy for me to end them."
"But can't I just end the pregnancy? Why does Rachel have to die?"
His father flinched and turned away. "Henry, I know I should have talked to you about this before now. But it's impossible to end the pregnancy without killing your bride. I tried, but it only ends up being a slow, painful death for the woman. Explain what is happening to your bride. Let her cry. But it must be done."
"Father—"
"It must be done," his father repeated, voice hardening. "You have a day, Henry. One last day with this bride. And then she dies. If you will not put her to sleep, then I will."
Henry didn't know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. His limbs felt heavy as he bowed to his father and took his leave. Kill Rachel or watch his father die. How could he choose between the two people he loved most?