In Siobhan’s Drawing Room turned makeshift office, Ewan, Kerr, and a frightful number of papers awaited her approval.

Intimidated, Siobhan riffled through the pile Catriona had sent her: menus, flower arrangements, and other lists; the one Kerr had put on the other side of the desk with curriculum vitaes for her new secretary; and at last, the one Ewan had put in the middle of her desk, which was the most intimidating of all: lists for the things to be done to get their wedding going.

She knew managing the palace and Angus’s mountain house was going to be a monumental task but there was more than she had imagined. Maybe the old cobra is right, and I will mess this all up.

“May I assist you, Ms. Faulkner?” The murmured question came from over her shoulder. “I know how confusing those lists can be at first.”

She looked up to find Ewan standing near. She sighed in relief. “Yes, please.”

“Shall we start choosing a secretary?”

After two hours—sooner than she had previewed—they had almost gone through the piles and they were chatting as if old friends—albeit formal old friends.

“The King isn’t always like this,” Ewan confided, handing her the next set of papers.

“Like how?” she asked distractedly as she reviewed the yearly parties.

Kerr answered for Ewan, “All good-morning smiles.”

“No?” Siobhan pounced on the kernel of hope as she signed her name on the list and stretched her hand for the last one.

Passing her the menus for said parties, Ewan said, “Nein. Usually, he’s a great deal worse.”

To which Kerr added, “Only grunts and nods, especially in the mornings.”  

Oh. Siobhan swallowed hard, set the list on her desk and put her elbows on it, which earned a dark glance from Ewan. She corrected her posture before asking, “How was he as a child?”  

With a glance at Ewan, who nodded in encouragement, Kerr said, “He was…a lonely child. The Dowager Princess was not a very attentive mother.”

“And the late princess was not very warm, either,” chimed in Ewan, “though they were good friends.”

“He doesn’t trust anyone, but he respects those who challenge him,” said Kerr. “I suspect that’s why you are here. He was resentful and bored until he met you.”

This is not getting any better. She looked from Ewan to Kerr, waiting for the complement she knew was coming.

“You’ll either be the making of him…or he’ll be the ruin of you,” Ewan added. “If it helps, the entire staff is pulling for the former.”

“It does help. I think.” To both men she asked, “Do you have advice?”

Kerr looked at Ewan and back at Siobhan and smiled, “Well, it’s too late to run.”

Siobhan sighed. “Other than that.”

“Drink?” Ewan suggested, with a wink that seemed to say: We’re in this together now. “Someone ought to make good use of the royal cellars.”

Whatever it took for the making of a lonely, resentful, and bored king, Siobhan was positive she lacked it.

However, if Ewan, Kerr, and the entire staff—plus Fiona—wanted to be in her corner, she wouldn’t complain. She needed to have a few friends in this fairy-tale palace before it turned into a haunted mansion.

As the three of them continued to go through the lists and the men added little, but very enlightening tidbits about Angus’s past, Siobhan’s mind began to understand his reasons for pushing her to accept a kind of business arrangement for a marriage, instead of focusing on building a love-filled relationship.

Yet, he hadn’t proposed again and she hadn’t had to deny his request.

It was kind of ironic.

And very much scary.

Because if he had asked now, she would have said yes.

* * *

Once more, Catriona leafed through the second file on Siobhan, which had arrived the day before, wondering if she was doing the right thing. With Lilian, the goldmine digger teenager who had bewitched her young and naïve son, she knew she had been right, even if Angus would never know, but now, with Siobhan she was not so sure.

“Don’t tell me you’re have having doubts about our plan,” said Aileen, eyeing her sister-in-law with sharp eyes.

“And if they really like each other?” asked Catriona. “She didn’t bow to any of our rebukes and pranks. She seems to like—”

“She’s a bastard,” hissed Aileen, narrowing her eyes at Catriona. “She was raised by nobodies. She will just taint the line.”

Catriona sniffed and raised her chin. “Well, the line has already been tainted by me, according to you.”

“Nonsense.”

Aileen waved her hand in the air but she didn’t fool Catriona, who added, “And we can’t forget she is pregnant already.”

“That can also be taken care of.”

Catriona pursed her lips. “Are you sure this is the best way to deal with this, Aileen? She’s carrying the long-awaited royal heir—a true blueblood.”

“Do you remember what I told you when he brought that teenage gipsy to see you all those years ago?” Aileen continued without waiting for Catriona’s answer, “If you had not followed my suggestion, she would be reigning here today. Let’s stick to the plan.”

Catriona inhaled a deep breath. “Alright.”

* * *

When Kerr had summoned her from her room, whispering that Angus’s mother and aunt wanted to discuss something with her, Siobhan had let her imagination run wild with possibilities.

Siobhan walked to Catriona’s new wing—to where she had moved after her visit to Angus’s mountain house—as if her feet were made of lead, dreading every step she covered. While she could name a great deal of things she liked about being here, there were two that clearly did not give her the smiles; on the contrary, they made her nauseous.

They didn’t attempt to hide the fact they thought she was not the right choice for the king. She doubted anything she did would ever change their minds. She could learn the language and mannerisms, she could become the woman that they craved for Angus, but in their minds, she would always be a waitress, a commoner.

Though Siobhan attempted to not let it bother her, it did, greatly. If she truly was going to marry Angus and become his wife, the mother to his heir, the last thing she needed was the family hating her and her lineage—or lack of it.

Siobhan drew in a deep breath and placed her hand over her fluttering belly, reminding herself why she needed to put up with his family to begin with. There was a child growing inside her, that no matter how much she balked at her future, would need the support of his or her family. She would remain respectful the best she knew how.

“Siobhan,” the Dowager Princess said as she entered the room. “Come, join us for breakfast.”

“You wished to see me?” Siobhan replied evenly, as she did as she was asked, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table from the two women.

“Yes,” Aileen said, a smile on her face. “There is something we think you should know.” Which gave Siobhan the creeps. While Catriona was cold and cruel, Aileen was positively mean and vicious, and Siobhan would wager, mad as well.

Catriona pulled out a manila envelope from the side of her plate and set it in front of Siobhan, a fixed smile on her face. “We could not allow you to remain at my precious son’s side without doing a bit of digging into your past. I hope you will not hold it against us.”

Anger shimmered inside Siobhan but she bit her lip to avoid giving them a piece of her mind, knowing it would not help. She would not fool herself thinking Angus had not done the same, but differently from his mother and aunt, he had a great deal to lose if he chose the wrong person to marry. And despite her, well, evilness, she knew that the Dowager Princess cared about her son—somewhere in that deep, cold heart of hers.

“Of course not,” she finally said with a tight-lip smile. “I understand.”

They both looked surprised, clearing their throats at the same time, making Siobhan want to laugh aloud.

“Well now,” Catriona finally said, fussing with her napkin. “That is very wise of you, Siobhan, I must say. One must protect their assets.”

“Hear, hear,” Aileen remarked, taking a sip of her tea, her eyes on Siobhan.

Glad for Ewan’s daily morning lessons, Siobhan did not offer up any expression, pointing to the envelope. “What did you find?”

She imagined nothing exciting, perhaps a few of her bills were paid quite late and her checking account was far from anything impressive. What can be so exciting anyway?

Catriona placed her hands in her lap and looked her dead in the eyes. “You are long-lost royalty.”

They have truly lost it. Siobhan looked at the two women and burst into laughter. “Now that would be surprising indeed.” Are they trying to make up a past for me so that it won’t look so bad if the wedding takes place?

“Go on,” Aileen said, waving her hand. “Open it. You will see.”

Guessing they would be able to do whatever they wished—money could buy many things—but the last thing she had imagined they would do was fabricate a royal pedigree for her so they could save face.

Siobhan shook her head as she opened the clasp and pulled out the papers. As her eyes scanned the pages, her inward chuckle turned into alarm. By the time she had reached a photo of the King of Aragon, her hands were trembling. She raised her face, all composure lost, and stammered, “W-where did you get this?”

“A reputable source,” Aileen replied. “It’s all true, I assure you.”

Siobhan looked back at the photo of the men and women who were supposedly her father and brother and sisters, her head swimming as she scanned their faces for similarities. From her father, she had inherited the thick raven hair, long black eyelashes, straight nose, and full mouth.

There was no denying she truly was long lost royalty to a kingdom named Aragon.

I have a brother! And sisters!

The newspaper clippings were there, stating how he was looking for one sister and how she was part of a long and proud dynasty, almost as old as the Braxton-Lenox.

She wasn’t just a cat-loving waitress. She was a royal herself.

“As you can see, he’s desperate to find you,” Catriona replied, as she brought her cup up to her lips. “And if I were you, I would be dying to meet him as well.”

“And find out how much I was worth,” Aileen added, looking pleased with herself.

Siobhan paid them no attention, her heart hammering against her chest. She had a family, a true family that was looking for her. She had a brother, a country waiting on her return.

More so than that, she was now considered an equal to, well, everyone in this place.

Even Angus.

Hope welled up in her chest as she thought about sharing the news with him. Will he be excited that he’s no longer marrying just a waitress?

“What are you going to do?” Catriona prodded, clearly miffed by Siobhan’s silence.

“We can arrange transportation to Aragon for you,” Aileen said, in a sugary sweet tone. “It’s the least we can do.”

Siobhan tucked the papers back into the envelope and stood, clasping it to her chest. “The least you can do…yes. I will let you know when I’ll be going”

But she wasn’t going to make any hasty decisions nor was she going to run off to a country she knew nothing about without thinking this through.

And talking with Angus.

As much as she was interested in meeting this family of hers, Angus and their child were still her top priority.

* * *

As soon as she was out of Catriona’s wing, Siobhan speed-dialed Angus, but the call went to the voicemail and she hung up without leaving a message. Although she knew he was probably busy and they would talk that night, this news of her royalty was too important to hold on to.

Siobhan went to Ewan’s office and asked him where Angus might be and eventually discovered he had gone to the royal stables, a place she hadn’t yet been to.

“I can take you there, if you wish,” Ewan suggested, already rising from his chair.

“No, you are busy,” she said. “Just show me where it is.”

By the window, he pointed to a building at the end of the property and insisted, “A footman can take you there.”

“Ewan, it’s not as if I am going to lose myself,” she said with a chuckle. And a solitary walk will help me put my mind in order.

* * *

Angus was talking with Javert and Mircea, clearly engrossed in the topic of breeding and growing the Romanis’ cattle.

Facts and statistics bounced back and forth; an award-winning five-year-old bull was the topic most discussed.

Angus liked the straightness of the bull’s legs, while Javert believed his height and length would be an outstanding cross with their heifers. Both young men were attractive with somewhat of a resemblance. But something about Angus was different, and not just his long gleaming long chestnut hair.

It’s his golden eyes. But then she noticed Javert’s eyes were also golden. An unusual trait to be shared.

Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes. Lord, she was tired lately, wanting to spend more time in bed than standing upright. She didn’t want to say anything to Angus about it for he would have her in bed until this baby was born, something she could not do.

Turning her attention away from Angus and Javert, she wandered aimlessly, her back hurting her. She would have to get more comfortable shoes the bigger her stomach got. What would Angus tell everyone once she started to show, which wouldn’t be too long now? Would he start demanding her to marry him again?

She wasn’t dragging her feet. Okay, she was. The wedding was so, well, final, and as much as she loved Angus and this child of theirs, her feet were still dragging.

Love.

And now with the news of her being the lost royal of Aragon…it was hard to digest even after she had read through the paperwork.

Siobhan sighed and looked up and did not see Angus where he had just been a moment ago. Great. Now she would have to double back.

Spying an open gate, Siobhan crossed into the pen, seeing the barn on the other side. She could cut through and make the same number of steps.

As she stepped into the gated area and started across the corral, she heard a click and turned, seeing that the gate had swung closed. There was not a lick of wind to be felt in the air, but she could see no one in the vicinity of the gate either.

And then another sound caught her ears, one that had the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Coming out of a side gate near the barn was a bull, huffing and puffing from its nose.

The sight of the manic, steaming bull glaring at her, was not surreal but other-worldly. She didn’t know how tall bulls generally were but this one seemed ten feet tall and large, extremely large.

What should I do? She tried to remember if she’d ever been taught how to react when faced with a charging bull, but all she could recall was one should play dead when confronting a bear in the woods. Nothing about bulls came to mind. She knew she should probably make no sudden movements but the itch to run was there.

The animal was moving, stamping and digging the ground with its front leg. She was pretty sure that meant it was getting ready to charge.

Best to try and be proactive…walk…don’t run…and be ready to run if it charges! She began edging toward the fence in the opposite direction but the bull started to move forward, as if he were sizing her up for his next opponent. This could not be happening. She had to get out. Not only was she in danger, but the baby was as well.

The bull snorted again.

Her brain function ceased and her legs took control.

* * *

“He was right here,” Javert said, puzzled the award-winning seventeen-hundred-pound bull was not in his enclosed pen. “We just saw him.”

Angus looked over at the open gate that led to the corral, his blood freezing in his veins as he recognized the form in the corral. With the bull.

“That bloody fool,” Angus cursed, starting toward the corral. “What the hell is she doing?”

“What?” Javert asked in a startled voice.

“How did she get in there?” Mircea asked, fear in his voice.

They all knew what would happen if that bull charged Siobhan, and suddenly Angus could not think straight. He had to get her out of danger.

Ignoring both Javert, and Mircea, Angus charged down the hill toward the corral, fury and fear bubbling with each stomp, as he watched Siobhan turn and run, prompting the bull to do the same. “Stubborn, impossible fool!”

She was going to be trampled if he didn’t get there in time.

* * *

Terrified, Siobhan passed through two gates and started to sprint across the lawn, towards the barn, but she would have to drop to the ground and crawl under the fence before the bull caught up to her. She’d never make it. The gates weren’t latched and wouldn’t slow the bull down.

She turned back and pulled the first gate shut, yanking at it with all her might, and did the same with the second one, and was back running toward the fence.

But coming at full speed with horns out to attack, hurling its mass toward the first gate, the bull completely destroyed it, and stopped, shaking its head and pawing at the ground again, only one barrier remaining between it and its prey.

Siobhan looked over her shoulder, disbelief at her situation crippling her. The monster was close enough for her to see the long tendrils of saliva hanging from his purple lips.

She was going to die in this corral—her, and the child within her. She wasn’t going to see the perfect baby she and Angus had created. She would never feel Angus’s arms around her again, the cocky grin he gave her when it was just the two of them.

She heard the bull start to charge again in pursuit. In an impossibly short amount of time, it crashed through the gate, yet hoping against hope, she kept running, blinded by tears, towards the fence, waiting for the blow, waiting for it to ram her.

Her life was about to be over and she hadn’t told Angus she loved him. Stupid pride!

Right behind her, the bull snorted and heaved.

Siobhan felt every pound of the hooves on the ground, like a death drum of what was going to happen next.

Her nervous system shut down and, with a cry, she curled over herself, legs and arms trying to protect her belly from the horns.

That was when the first shot rang out.