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“No, there is no way. Are you sure?” My stomach dropped, and I immediately wanted to curse Milos out before realizing I was there to pawn it.
“Yep, it’s a factory-made stone,” he sighed. “But if you still want to sell, I’ll give you a thousand pounds for the band, it’s 24k gold.”
“I can’t believe it,” I said, still stunned.
“These things tend to happen from time to time,” he replied, obviously having noticed I was beside myself with anger.
“Um, yeah, I’ll sell the band then,” I said, as I realized I had no other choice.
The moment I took a thousand pounds for the fake ring, from my fake marriage to a real prince, was the moment I really felt like an idiot. I walked outside and combined that thousand with what I had saved from the strip club and headed over to the bank to take care of the mortgage. I hoped that they would negotiate a lower price for me, since I still needed to make sure we had food. Luckily, when I sat down with the mortgage representative, he could see what had happened and showed me a small amount of mercy. By the time I had secured our home for another bit of time, I was starving, and I figured my mother probably hadn’t eaten anything worthwhile in quite a bit of time. I looked at the money I had left over, which was barely enough for groceries, much less a ride home. I sighed deeply and went to the local market. By the time I had walked back to the house, my mother had begun to stir, so I fixed us a hot meal and sat silently across the table from her.
I looked down at my stew and thought about the grand dining halls, the huge chandeliers, and the beautiful china that once sat in front of me. It was so disheartening. I had spent a bit of time in what seemed like nothing more than a dream now, and I had fallen in love with a man that didn’t really exist. He had built himself up to be someone he was not, and at that moment, despair flooded me.
After dinner, I sent my mother back to bed, instead of letting her go out to look for her next bottle of liquor. Then, I set my room back up with clean sheets. I looked around the unfamiliar space and couldn’t help but reminisce of my bedroom at the castle. It all seemed like so long ago as I compared it to the room I was standing in. I felt nothing but sadness. I went to sleep that night, hoping that the next day brought me some sort of reprieve.
In the morning, I decided to leave before my mother got up, knowing she would be in full bitch mode, not having drunk the night before. I tiptoed through the house, grabbing a granola bar from the cabinet, and started my walk toward the clinic. I needed to have a doctor’s check up, since I hadn’t told anyone about the baby yet. Afterward, I needed to go start looking for a job so that we could keep the lights on. When I arrived at the clinic, I filled out my information on the paperwork, putting down my maiden name. I realized I needed to get that taken care of eventually. Knowing the royals, they would just wipe everything clear as if it had never happened. Just the thought of being wiped away made my heart ache, and I forced my attention on the task at hand.
As I sat on the edge of the small bed and waited for the doctor to return, I thought about the night that the baby would have been conceived, our wedding night. That was the night I had really given in to my urges and let Milos start seeping into my heart. I was stupid and look where it got me.
I had to swallow my pride and march back into poverty and loneliness with a child I had made with love. The doctor entered back into the room and smiled sweetly as she gave me the news I already knew. I was pregnant. She handed me about a million pamphlets. I thumbed through them while they set my future appointments. I allowed a tiny bit of excitement to enter into my mind, from the idea of bringing a baby into the world. However, as I trudged back home to the dirty flat with my drunken mother still passed out upstairs, that excitement faded.
All the pictures on the front of the brochures were happy, healthy babies held by their mother and father in a safe environment. It was almost nauseating how far down my flat was from where I had been just days before that moment. How was I supposed to provide a good life for this child? To be honest, I knew before that appointment that I loved the child that grew inside of me. If only I could have married the Prince Charming that had swept me off my feet on my wedding night. The man that looked longingly at me and worshipped my body. In that flat in Liverpool, the only thing that looked longingly at me were the mice in the corners, looking for their next scrap of food.
I knew I couldn’t sit there all day, wallowing in my own personal misery. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I grabbed the local paper and started to search for a job. There seemed to be more jobs than I remembered in the area, so I grabbed a marker and started circling everything that sounded remotely possible. From waitressing to maid services, I was willing to get my hands dirty if it meant I could save up some money and start a life for me and the child. While I was at it, I circled a rehab facility that I planned on forcing my mother into. She wouldn’t be happy at first, but when she had reached sobriety and held her grandbaby in her arms, I knew she would thank me for it. I knew I would be thankful for a sober mother, as well, especially since raising a child by yourself is difficult, and I would need all the help I could get.
Reality sure kicked me right in the teeth. I had just been surrounded by servants, luxury, and freedom. The truth of what I was facing afterward was harsh, cold, and uncomfortable. I knew I had to get past the heartache if I was going to survive any of this. Milos could keep his life in the castle. He was born and bred for it. I wasn’t. I just hoped one day, he would look back and realize what he really missed out on, feeling the emotions that plagued my entire being. I hoped that one day, my child could have a better life than I was going to be forced to provide it, without the trauma of life with a parent that loved the booze and the women more than his own family. I knew what growing up like felt, better than anyone. I was determined to walk into a brighter future and give my child the best life possible.
18
Milos
The sun had just come up, and I had already poured my second glass of whiskey for the day. I was posted in my, now normal, sitting area and stared out over the gardens, thinking about the time I made love to Adriana in the hedge maze. It had been the moment I realized I loved her, but I pushed the feelings so far down that I managed to screw up everything.
The servants at my quarters were down to two, ever since I had developed a habit of screaming at them when they entered. I knew I was being more than an asshole, but I wanted to be alone, not in the presence of the babysitting crew I had come to realize was ordered by my mother.
I ignored the knock on the door, in the hope that they would just fuck off. The pounding was so loud, it shook my glass on the table. Eventually, the door just swung open, and I turned slightly to see Brat walking through my bedroom. His face showed anger, and he was dragging Zlata by the arm through the maze of bottles that were scattered across the floor. He let go of her arm and grabbed the drink from my hand.
“Drink this,” he said as he slammed a cup of coffee in my hand.
“Brat, I’m not really in the mood for your lifesaving tactics today,” I sighed.
“Just drink it. Zlata has something she wants to tell you.” He gestured in her direction, not looking thrilled.
I looked over at her and sipped the coffee in an attempt to at l
east appease Brat for the moment. She looked down at her feet and crossed her arms in front of her. I could tell she didn’t want to talk, but Brat had drug her here, and she wasn’t being given an option. Brat nudged her in the side and pushed her forward. She looked up at me and shook her head, being indignant as always.
“Tell him Zlata, or so help me God, I’ll make sure our parents know about your trip to the islands with that commoner from town,” Brat scolded through gritted teeth.
“I hired a private investigator to find dirt on Adriana,” she blurted out.
“You did what?” I was absolutely furious. How dare she stick her nose where it didn’t belong?
“Hear me out,” she said, putting her hands up defensively. “I knew she was a gold digger. When detective found out she used to be a stripper, I knew she didn’t belong in this kingdom.”
“Tell him the other part,” Brat growled. “Stop stalling.”
“The investigator also found out that Adriana’s pregnant,” Zlata said. She handed me a photo of Adriana going into a clinic. “But with her past, I don’t even know how you could think it was yours.”
