Pregnant! By the Prince (2 page)

The panic in my heart that was racing ever since I stepped out into the cold calmed.

As she departed, I broke my peace realizing that it could all be a set up to rob me or something.

What was the cabbies angle though?

I pushed the debate away, and opened up my bags. I had one hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans for when it got cold. In my genius, I had put the rest of my supplies on top of them though. Toothbrush, feminine products, some paints and brushes, notepads, a tablet PC.

The next item I pulled out made me blush. My mother was a woman of the world and understood expecting my complete chastity until marriage was absolutely silly. When she told me to stay safe, she winked, telling me she meant it in every way one could think of. I ordered them online, cause I was too bashful to go and buy some outright at the store.

I got bashful anyway when they arrived and my Mom caught me opening the box.

I just laughed at them, and set them off to the side on the dresser.

I found my pants and sweatshirt, and took a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, though, I heard the door open behind me. I turned, it was the nice old lady. In her hands was a tray, a steaming bowl of soup, some of that heavy beer, and a juice box that was younger than me, but not by much.

I smiled, but her face was horrified.

She dropped the tray, it clattering on the floor. She then pointed at the condoms and screamed. She ran out of the room.

What the hell was up with her? An irrational fear of condoms?

I shook my head, picked up the tray and set it on a nightstand. I walked out of the room to try to figure out what was up with the old lady.

Down the stairs, I found her.

She was flanked by two men. Copper stars were on their chests. Police? She got the police?

"What's going on?" I asked, in English.

I got a reply that I clearly understood. Both supposed police officers grabbed me by the arm, and placed cuffs on me.

"I didn't do anything?" I wiggled against them, but I wasn't going to overpower two farm strong boys. "I thought the cab and the room were them being nice?"

English did nothing. No words I could produce would do anything. They were pushing me forward, and back out into the cold.

Why didn't I put on my sweatshirt first?

-Chapter Two-

"Bea - Bea Fields," I said, trying to calm myself down.

"Your name can't simply be a letter. Come on, tell me your full name." The handsome foreigner stroked my chin with a smile.

A deep breath escaped my lips. "It's short for Beatrice. I don't like it, makes me sound like I should be in the old folks home playing Bridge."

"Beatrice? That's a beautiful name."

"Whatever. My name isn't important. Let me go. I didn't do anything. At least let me call my embassy or something."

"Embassy? That'd be hard. We've resisted the concept for years," he began. He sat on the table in front of me, and ran his hand across the outline of my face. The touch was gentle, as if he were admiring a piece of fine China. "Dolotovya is quite resistant to change. It views foreigners as corrupting influences who want to ruin our traditions."

"I'm not here to corrupt anyone! Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Ah, rude of me not to introduce myself to a beautiful woman. I am Leon Triskov, Prince and heir to the throne of Dolotovya."

I blinked. He was a literal prince? When I thought of princes I thought of the irresponsible British princes. Not sexy, beautiful creatures whose touch awakened sinful ideas in my most private of parts. Not wanting to flirt with the man who was falsely imprisoning me, I had to be mean, hoping it would get us back to business. "Just waiting for your old man to kick it, huh?"

His eyes closed, his mouth fell into a frown. "He had departed over a decade ago."

Right back to feeling like an asshole for me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump salt in a wound."

"I understand. You're in duress, irritable, and are clueless to what's going on. It's highly stressful."

"Why am I in handcuffs, then?"

He took a deep breath himself, and laughed. "I am thankful none of these guards speak English, but I best send them away lest I make them think less of their prince."

He gestured toward the door and spoke more of what I had deduced had to be the Dolotovyan language. They saluted him and left.

"Now then," he said, taking an actual chair in front of me instead of using the table as one. "Your charge is possession of illegal objects with intent to corrupt the people of Dolotovya."

I stared at him - blank, lost.

"I expected that to be your response. Condoms are forbidden here."

"You have to be kidding me."

"No. Dolotovya has strong, national pride. As the rest of our neighbors fell into oppressive dictatorships under the Soviet Union, we remained with the same dynasty that has ruled since the twelfth century. A lack of revolution, of course, has its consequences."

"Condoms are illegal. This is some sort of theocracy, then?"

"No. My family has held power through generations. I am to one day become king and I hope to modernize the country under my reign."

I tried to work through all this in my head. "Wait, your father passed? Did one of your brothers get the throne instead or something? You planning to kill him?"

He looked at me, silently for a moment, and then laughed. "You watch too many movies. No, I am an only child."

"Then why aren't you - "

"Dolotovya doesn't follow the same rules as every other country. To be king, the prince must establish 'Diye'. The closest English word would likely be 'Legacy'."

I watched as he explained his country. The way he spoke told me he was more than just a masculine beauty that I could salivate over. He was an educated man. He knew English, and knew it well - no one else spoke it, so I guessed he learned abroad. "Diye? Legacy? What, you gotta do something memorable to become king?"

"In a way, yes. A Dolotovyan king must prove they will continue the traditions and preserve the nation's future. As such, a Dolotovyan King must not be a king alone - they must be a father as well."

"You gotta have a kid to be King?"

"If you want to put it plainly, yes. For me, I have not yet found my queen to be, to love and to hold, and to bear my child and prove I care about more than myself."

No way, I told myself. This guy could have any pick of a woman here. "Your highness, uh,"

"Leon is fine, lovely Beatrice."

Blush rushed to my cheeks - again. I hated my full name all my life. My mother only called me it when I did something bad, and I always felt like it was super dorky. The way he said it, though, there was an affection in it that made me not mind it one bit. "Leon, then. May I request release? No malice in my 'crimes'. I didn't even want to come here. It was totally an accident."

He smirked, standing and going to a nearby desk, and pulling out a keyring. "Then it is a wonderful accident." Quickly, he was behind me and relieved me of my cuffs. I celebrated by stretching my arms out, letting them move free as nature intended."You are free to go, Beatrice. Personally, I find the law laughable anyway, so this was an unreasonable mess."

"So, you still have some power as Prince, right?" I looked at him, remembering my problems.

"Yes. It is limited, however."

"Do you think you could get me a plane and get me to Zurich? I'm suppose to meet my friends."

"It would break my heart to see you leave so soon." He paused, turned his head away from me. "But alas, it is out of my power anyway. Abram, the man who owns the one plane in the country, is quite adamant that he does not wish to fly more than once a week."

"Really? You're a pauper prince or something?"

"Of course not. Centuries of power have allowed the Triskov dynasty to amass much wealth."

"Why can't you like, buy your own plane?"

He paused, turning his face away from mine. "I'm not one to flaunt my wealth over the people. I get around when I need to."

I stared at him. "Really? You're going to let that dictate what you do?"

"They are good people. I want to modernize the country and its ideas, I want to do what's best for them."

My hands shook in frustration. "Sorry, not trying to get mouthy." He was right about them being good people, I agreed. I got a ride and room just because I was a confused, lost American. They were gungho to help me until they took my preparedness for hot German boys as intent to challenge their society.

"Beatrice," he again charmingly said. "Please, come with me to my palace. I would love to have a guest as beautiful as you until we figure out how to solve your dilemma."

Again, I blushed. Did he have a thing for me? I mean, I definitely had a thing for him, but he was a prince. A literal prince. I didn't stumble into a fairy tale or something, did I? "Um, of course," I replied, realizing I'd never forgive myself if I refused.

***

I was awestruck - Leon wasn't lying.

The Dolotovyan palace was immense. I could see my reflection clear as day on the floor. A great chandelier hung above.

"It looks nice, yes, but it's somewhat empty when I'm living here with only one other person," Leon began, as he stopped to take his shoes off and handed them to one of the butlers. He gave him a command in the foreign language and butler took off.

"Who would that be?" I asked, taking in the gorgeous art that adorned the walls. It wasn't like anything else I've seen before.

"My Teya," he caught himself, "or aunt, Nadya."

"Is it common in Dolotovya to take care of extended family?"

"If it within your means, yes."

I stared at the painting, taking notes for my own studies. Done in oil, it captured a snowy landscape and overlook of the town. "Is she going to be okay with you putting up random Americans?"

"Leon! Leon!" The voice was haggardly, and I turned to watch an aged woman make her way down the stairs. Her head was covered with a cloth. "There you are. Always running off. That's not very Triskov of you at all."

"Teya, please don't start."

I watched, them, my eyes wide open. She was speaking German, of all things. Leon was responding with the same. "The outside world is full of sin. Dolotovya ignores those who wish to corrupt us." It took me more by surprise that she was speaking it incredibly well.

"Teya, please. We have a guest."

The aging noticed, and her demeanor soured. "Leon, why are you bringing foreigners in?"

"How do you know I'm foreign?" I said, in my far less proficient German.

"You? You're German?"

"American."

"That's even worse. You know what those Americans do, don't you, Leon?"

"Teya, please don't."

"They're godless heathens. They promote sin, celebrate it. What's one doing in our beloved country?"

"Teya," Leon flashed a glance at me, ashamed of what was occurring. "She is a lost traveler. I am simply offering our kindness until she can find her way home."

"Yes," I said, "I promise I won't burn down palace by inviting hellfire onto it."

Nadya took a deep breath. "Fine. Dolotovya is better than refusing those in need. I welcome you, young lady. What is your name?"

"Bea. Um, Beatrice." I was trying to look dignified, instead of a degenerate American.

"Welcome Beatrice." Nadya walked past us, and I didn't feel as welcome as her words suggested.

"Do not worry about her," Leon said, in English. "She's passionate about the country."

"You speak German too?"

"Yes."

"That seems odd given your country's isolationism."

"I traveled, I learned. I also speak Spanish and Mandarin."

"Five languages, huh? Sexy and smart. I like that." A second later, I blushed, and turned away.
Stupid, stupid, don't say you think he's sexy.

"I had hoped to learn Afrikaans before my uncle's death called me back here. Alas, I have to realize I cannot learn all the world's knowledge alone."

"Way too much out there. I'm just impressed you did German so naturally - and English."

"Dolotovyan is my native tongue. Teya taught me German. The rest I learned elsewhere - and I know speaking well is important for first impressions. An American that knows multiple languages though, indicates that you aren't such a dummy yourself. Sexy and Smart." He said, less bashful with his flirtations.

"Um, eh," I stuttered, and sought to quickly change the topic. "Soo, your Uncle passed recently?"

"Yes. We buried him not a half year ago. Nadya has been irritable all this time having
lost her husband. One of the reasons I had returned was to keep her company. An aging, lonely princess. I fear what would happen if I had stayed abroad, leaving her alone."