The Traitor's Daughter (Complete)

Part 43-An Heir

 Zena cast a glance at Luke's shocked face, then disregarded him with a disdainful look. She placed a hand on her father's arm and lifted her face, pleading with her eyes.

"Believe me, Father, one cannot trust these men. It is easy for them to fool you."

Victor sent an apologetic look toward the two men.

"Shh....dear child. You shouldn't speak like that about his majesty," he cautioned Zena.

"I don't care whoever he is, Father. I'll not let you go to St. Helene," she said stubbornly. Zena felt the pounding of her heart. She remembered when her father had gone to meet the prince on her birthday and she had had the same feeling of premonition. Look how right her intuition had been! She wasn't letting him out of her sight. Also, there was Jane to consider now. How could Victor leave her behind in this condition?

"Look, my lady, it is an emergency....." Dave started, but Luke silenced him with the wave of a hand.

"Zena, listen to me...." he started.

Zena turned on him, her eyes sparking fire, her look enough to strike him dead.

"There's nothing to talk about. Please leave," she bit out, then walked inside without a backward glance.

A stunned silence followed her departure. The men seemed at a loss for words.

It was Victor who tried to normalize the situation.

"Forgive my daughter, Your Majesty, but I believe that she has good reason to behave in such a manner," he said, addressing Luke.

Luke felt color wash his face. He cleared his throat, weighing what to say next.

"Martin, I really need to talk to her," he said firmly.

"You, heard her, Your Majesty. She doesn't wish to talk to you," Victor replied in the same tone.

"You don't understand, Martin. Zena is carrying the heir to the throne, if I'm not mistaken," Luke said, his voice full of urgency, and when Victor did not react, "Please, it is imperative that I speak to her."

Victor hid a small smile at the pleading in his tone.

"I'll see what I can do, Your Majesty. I suggest that you enjoy the excellent afternoon tea till I return," he said, as Jane entered with Hilda, carrying tea and small almond cakes.

Victor knocked on Zena's door, but not getting any reply, he went in anyway. She was sitting on the bed, wiping the moisture from her eyes. Victor went to her and hugged her. She sobbed with her head on his chest.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere," he reassured her.

"Tell him to go away, Father," she pleaded.

"He will, my child, but I think you should listen to what he has to say."

Zena looked at him with disbelief.

"You're saying that after what he did to us?" she asked, stunned.

Victor patted her head, then placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I know, my child, that you're a strong girl. You can face him and hear him out, can you not? He did request to see you, and he is our ruler. Nothing can change that we are his majesty's subjects."

Zena thought for a moment, then nodded.

"We'll be here if you need us," Victor assured her, then left the room.

Luke was pacing the parlor, impatience written on his face, while Dave sipped at his tea and chatted with Jane.

"She'll see you now, Your Majesty," Victor informed him and saw him heave a sigh of relief.

Zena sat with a sickly pounding heart, her palms clammy. Talking to Luke was the last thing she wanted to do. There wasn't really anything that they could say to each other. They hadn't parted under the best of circumstances. The knock on the door made her jump.

"Enter," she croaked, her breathing quickened.

Luke walked in hesitatingly, his gaze taking in the simple but cheerful room. The bunch of chrysanthemums stood in a glass bottle in all their red glory. Who had given her those flowers, Luke pondered, for in his eyes, they symbolized love and caring.

Zena looked at him once, then turned her face away, glancing out of the open window to the fields in the distance.

"Ahem...." Luke started, swallowing the lump in his throat. "How're you, Zena?"

"What do you care? Please come to the point," she said dryly.

Luke walked over to the bed and sat down beside her, though she hadn't invited him to do so. He placed his hand on hers and turned her face to his.

Zena recoiled from the touch, past memories rushing to her mind. Her heart seemed to beat so fast that she feared that she might swoon.

"That's my child," he uttered softly, a statement not a question.

"No," she denied vehemently.

"It is no use lying, Zena. Did it happen that last day?" he asked, his eyes going to the gentle bulge of her belly.

Zena stayed quiet, stubbornly, not meaning to answer him. Let him work it out for himself. It had been she who had lived in misery after they parted, while he would have gone on enjoying his life with other women. He didn't deserve to be told the truth.

"Dammit, don't you realize, that's a royal baby, an heir to the throne," he shouted, agitated now by her silence. No one had ever treated him like this. He wasn't used to being told 'no'.

"What if it is? Haven't you lost all rights to it by mistreating its mother? Please, go away and leave me in peace. It hasn't been easy, but I have learned to live again."

"You know I can't do that...."

"Then what do you want, for god's sake?" Zena threw at him.

"Marry me. I can't have an illegitimate heir. That wouldn't be good for the bloodline," he offered.