Page 18 of Trust In Love (Love Mark 2)

Vienne’s sister, Yasmin, had been the last queen, married to my brother Caulder and Yasmin had never smiled at me with such regard or requested that I join her and her ladies court for gossip. She’d only ever degraded and maligned me, talking down to me as if I were a child.

Which I had been. But still…

Here I was now, no longer so young or innocent, and everyone in the royal court looked upon me with far more regard and esteem than ever before. Yet for some reason, I felt more removed from them than ever before, too.

I knew I should’ve been unbearably happy. My life was everything it should be for a princess in my position. My brother, the king, gave me freedom and adoration. He listened to and considered my ideas. He seemed proud to have me in his court. He let me live and study how I wished within the castle, idling through the days in luxury, and pampered beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.

And yet, I ached, wishing for more.

Wow, I was just a pathetic, spoiled heap, wasn’t I? Life was perfect for me, and I couldn’t even appreciate it? People would kill to be in my position. People had killed for it, in fact. And I merely felt indifferent.

; Experiencing a nip of guilt for my ungratefulness, I nodded to my sister-in-law as I stepped toward her and Vienne, trying to force that spark of contentment in their company that I once had and knew I should have again. Touching Iver’s tiny toes as he slept peacefully in Vienne’s arms, I glanced over at Allera when she hooked my elbow with hers and tugged me in close, grinning wickedly.

“Should we tell her?” she asked Vienne before lifting her eyebrows expectantly.

“Oh, most definitely,” Vienne answered, swaying her youngest babe back and forth to keep him napping throughout our conversation. “Nicolette might never forgive us if we left her out of the loop a moment longer.”

When she glanced at her child’s face with such pride and adoration, I knew exactly what she was going to say just as both women shrieked together, “We’re pregnant!”

Wait. We?

Okay, that I had not been expecting.

“We?” I repeated, glancing between the two of them. “You mean, you’re both—?”

“Yes!” Allera confirmed on a delighted hoot, covering her stomach with two hands. “Both of us. My first. Her fourth. After being married to my first husband for seven years and then Brentley for five, I feared my womb was closed, but it’s not. It’s not, Nic! Isn’t that grand?”

“I—” I started in surprise, blinking rapidly. “It certainly is, yes.”

“And they’ll both be boys too,” Vienne added, shaking her head with a wide grin. “Nanny Wynter predicts they’ll be born within a week of each other.”

“Well,” I said breathlessly, pressing my palms to my cheeks when they stretched wide from the force of my smile. “This is all so wonderful. Congratulations! To both of you. And seriously, that’s some timing. Yet, I don’t wish to know how you two managed to coincide such a thing.”

While Allera laughed uproariously, Vienne blushed. “It was quite by accident, I assure you.”

“Brentley and I already have a name chosen,” Allera told me. “He’ll be dubbed Prince Cal. In honor of Caulder.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I nodded. “I love it,” I rasped, painfully moved by the tribute.

Needing to skirt any subject that might cause me more melancholy, though, I turned my attention to Vienne.

“And you?” I wondered. “Do you have a moniker selected for your newest addition? With all the progeny you’ve been manufacturing of late, I’m beginning to worry you’re running low on names to choose from.”

As Vienne scowled over my teasing, Allera threw her head back and howled in amusement.

“He shall be named Ulysses,” Vienne announced primly, lifting her chin and hugging Iver protectively closer to her. “And four children aren’t all that many, you know.”

“Certainly,” I sassed back, “except the speed in which you’re producing them suggests there might very well be dozens before you’re done.”

Tsking, Allera nudged my arm. “I think since my brother met Vienne while she was pregnant, he believes he must keep her that way.”

“Nonsense,” Vienne cried, turning bright red with embarrassment. “We’re just—”

“Completely horny?” Allera raised her eyebrows teasingly. “Unable to keep your hands off each other? Sexually unquenched?”

“Oh, you’re impossible,” Vienne muttered, trying to control her discomfort before pointedly turning to me. “Why do we put up with her heckling, Nicolette?”