Emery
''It has been ten days, Your Highness. You haven't touched your food. Shall I get you something else to eat? The queen worries about your wellbeing,'' I keep on looking at the glass window; not sparing a second glance at one of the servants. I'm don't feel like I need to consume anything and it has not bothered me.
I stay quiet for a few seconds before sighing.
''No. I need to be alone,'' I answer which causes him to bow in respect before exiting the room—leaving me all by myself; what I really want at the moment or for the past ten days, I've been avoiding people. Easy to say, I have been locking myself in this room.
Actually, this is his office. Being in here just makes me feel like he's still here with me; his presence. My mind has been blanked for the past few days because I've forgotten of what he asked me to do.
I find myself sitting in his armchair before throwing my head back with a deep sigh—not quite believing that I've lost my father. His death does not only bring sadness in our family but it brings sadness to the people here in England.
He was a true king and his priority was his family and his people. Barely himself. Ever since I was a kid, he would always say 'care for your family, care for your people and care for your loved ones.' That has been stuck in my mind; he reminded me.
Within seconds, I have realised the missing piece of my memory—making me look at the drawers near my side before making my way towards it. I immediately try to pull it open but my action is being pulled back due to the fact that the drawer is indeed locked.
''Oh, bloody hell. Where's the key?'' I mutter.
I begin to lose my mind but as soon as I find certain keys in one of the drawers near his Mahogany desk, I quickly try them one by one; which is testing my patience and making sure my sanity is attach.
It took me at least fifteen minutes to finally pull the drawer open; earning myself a sigh of relief. I look down into the drawer and find a file with my name on top—the only thing available in here is the file.
Without further ado, I pick up the file and go through the papers inside—shocked to find myself reading these confidential papers. As I keep on reading them one by one, I stop once I see the truth. My whole body shakes in disbelief as my hands go cold; this can't be true, this must be a silly joke!
I hear the door open but I don't bother turning.
My mind is occupied with something more.
''Emery?'' The familiar sweet voice calls out my name, but due to the papers that I'm holding and the truth that I've found. Anger raises inside of me for all the lies and the secrets that they've kept from me.
Instead of throwing it all onto the ground and explode, I find myself holding an endless amount of tears at the picture; a certain picture. I am currently holding tightly onto the papers, wanting to just drop onto the ground and seek for answers but I know that won't do me any good unless I ask someone.
''Hey, you alright? Look at me,'' She adds.
Emma comes closer towards me but I refuse.
Before she can touch me by the arm, I am already exiting the room—leaving her call out my name multiple times but for some reason; for this reason, I am actually ignoring her. The only thing that I have not done ever since we've been together.
''What is wrong with you, Emery?'' She asks, louder.
I start to feel my cheeks heating up in anger and in betrayal—not liking the fact that I am lack of control over my own emotions. Emma, on the other hand, is following behind me even though I'm silently wanting her to stop and just walk away for now. Yet, she's still following me; until I reach the north wing.
Just like that, I push the door open; too harsh.
My mother turns to look at me with wide eyes as she stops talking with the guests—Andrea's family. They are currently staying a little bit longer once they've heard the king has passed away. I can't help but look at my mother with tears shielding my eyes.
''My apologies but please excuse us,'' She says.
It doesn't take them long to exit the room, leaving my mother, Emma and I in this room. I clench my hands into fists as I control my breathing—trying to calm down but it's barely working. Barely.
''Emma, leave the room.'' I say without looking at her but even so, I can imagine the look on her face; filled with hurt and confusion. I've never raised my voice or talked to her like this—what's wrong with me?!
''Wh—what are you saying? Emery—'' I cut her off.
''Emma, please, leave the room! Why can't you just listen to me, for once?'' I say, a little bit too loud and harsh before glancing back at her. My jaw is clenched in regret as I see her looking back at me with hurt in her eyes yet she stays still—ignoring my request.
''I'm not going anywhere. You're not going to force me to leave this room because I'll be in here; listening to your conversation with your mother,'' She replies, ''Whatever it is that you have to say to her, I have the right to be here and hear it too.'' Determined.
I turn around to look at my mother.
''I did not raise my son to speak like that to his wife. What has gotten into you, Emery? Barging into this room like that while I am attending to our guests? I did not raise you to be disrespectful,'' She says, her voice raising a little bit but I don't blame her.
Yes, she did not raise me to be disrespectful. She did not raise me to speak like that to my wife because for all I know—I should be respecting her even when I'm being controlled by anger but I can't help it.
''That's not why I'm here. You lied to me,''
''Lied to you? About what?'' She frowns, confusingly.
''About everything! Who am I, mother? Or should I even be calling you that? Am I even your son? More importantly, am I even a royalty?'' I ask, trying hard not to let my tears fall due to the picture that I've seen; probably a picture of my biological father.
My mother stays still, not expecting me to find out about this—especially not now. Her eyes begin to soften as she tries to close the distance between us but I keep the distance unoccupied, not letting her come any closer. Not until I earn an explanation.
''You are Emery France Arthur Van Allan, my son, my one and only son. I'm your mother,'' She replies, her voice almost inaudible but due to being in a quiet space—her voice is loud enough.
''Then, explain this. Who is he?'' I raise up the paper where there is a picture of a man—who looks a lot like me. The picture seemed old and untouched, probably because of being too long in that damn drawer.
She walks closer towards me, cupping onto my face.
''Your father,'' She breathes out, hesitating.
Then, it all came crushing down. Now, what is it all about? My mother had an affair with someone while she was married to the king—late king, resulted in me so they both had to care for the burden she caused? Is that the main cause or is it something else?
''Your biological father. H—he was killed in a car accident while I was two weeks pregnant of you, he did not have the chance to know that he was going to be a father. I am sorry for keeping this a secret,'' She adds as she continues to speak, ''Your father—the late king, was unable to have children. He was infertile and he knew that he will lose everything just because he was incapable of having an heir. That was when he found me; the damsel in distress,'' She mutters.
I, keep quiet. Only listening to her explanation.
''He saw me as a gift because I was pregnant. Our father were great friends and it wasn't long until he asked for my hand in marriage—my father, your grandfather was ashamed of me having a child out of wedlock so he accepted. Then, we got married,'' She smiles up at me, her fingers caressing the side of my face, ''He has never treated you differently, Emery. He has always thought of you as his own son and he loved you just like you're his,'' She breathes.
''I don't understand. I don't,'' I frown as I look down.
''Like I said, he was infertile. We wanted another child and that's why we thought of adoption—Evelyn. She was two years older than you and you were only a toddler, probably three years old. I didn't want to tell you but I wish I've told you sooner because no one else knew; your grandparents buried this secret with them and so did your father,'' She says.
''So, you lied to everyone about you.'' I mutter.
''I did. For the sake of my husband,''
''I told them that I was not capable of having anymore children due to my uterus but actually, it was your father who was unable. He would cry to me at night because he felt lost, like he had nothing but he did realise that he had you and Evelyn,'' She stops for awhile before continuing, ''And he couldn't ask for more. You two were everything to him,''
The three of us remain quiet; shocked at this.
My mother was pregnant but my father—biological father had died before he could even know. My father, the late king accepted my mother as he saw her as a gift because he was infertile. He wanted to keep his throne so he needed an heir. She was his hope.
''Did he love you?'' I ask, out of nowhere.
Yes, they were married before they even had the chance to fall in love with each other so I want to know if they did have the chance once they've known more about one another—accepted one another.
My mother smiles, ''We loved each other,''
''I'm not truthfully a royalty,'' I mutter under my breath before realising something. The agreement does not apply to me as the agreement was through my father's bloodline; not my mother's.
I turn to look at Emma, seeing her frown.
''No, you are a royalty. You are their future king and soon—when I step down the throne, you and Emma will have that title; king and queen.'' She says.
''But according to the law—'' She cuts me off.
''The law states your name,'' She replies, determined. ''I know what's in your head; it's about the bloody agreement, isn't it? Yes, the agreement does not apply to you as you are not the truthful heir to the late king but to everyone, you are the truthful heir. According to the royal law too because no one knew,''
''Yet, the agreement does not matter now?''
My eyes wander to meet Emma's before glancing down at her flat stomach—the stomach that will be showing in a few more weeks. She's three weeks pregnant and almost four; it won't be long until we notice some more changes with her body.
I look at her and I realise, she's my everything. She is my wife and she is carrying my child—yes, the damn agreement mattered before but not anymore. My love for her is strong and it shall not be broken. Things are working out between us and there wouldn't be any reason to end this. No reason at all.
''No, it doesn't matter.'' I answer, honestly.
I walk towards Emma, closing the distance between us before cupping onto her face and kissing onto the side of her cheek—proving and showing how I'm awfully sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice at her or to make her feel like she's not important because she is and always will be important.
''I'm sorry, sweetheart. Forgive me,'' I whisper.
She smiles at me before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me close—calming both of us down at our own warmths mixed together.
''I love you,'' I repeat a few more times near her ear, only loud enough for her to hear without pulling away as I continuously kiss her cheek.