The Bastard (Darling #2) [complete]

Chapter Four

T H A T C H E R  S T A R E D down at the small hand wrapped around his finger adoringly. Tears of elation welled in his eyes. He never in his wildest dreams expected the day to come: the birth of his son and heir. His child was beautiful. His innocent blue eyes full of wonder as he blinked up at his father; his button nose and apple cheeks blushed pink; his perfect rose petal lips that stretched into a gummy smile.

Just as the heir resembled his mother, he looked like his father all the same. His hair was dark and thick. Hidden beneath his innocence, Thatcher could see the mischief threatening to peek through. It was much like the mischief Thatcher knew he had within himself.

"You must see what I see, my love," he said in awe. He brushed his thumb across the newborn's puffy cheeks and grinned when the baby's nose twitched. "He is perfect."

That moment was perfect. Nothing could have ruined it.

"My queen, you truly must -" When he looked up from the child in his arms to the bed where his wife laid, having just given birth, he choked back on words. The infirmary's doctor was draping a white sheet over her body. "What are you -?"

Without giving him a glance, still fixing the sheet over the body, the doctor said, "She is gone, your highness."

"Gone?"

"Her majesty is dead due to birth complications."

Birth complications? How could that have been? She was alive and well only several moments ago. She was screaming in pain as she birthed their healthy son. She could not be gone. She could not be dead.

You are a liar! Thatcher attempted to scream, but it was all trapped inside of his head. She cannot be dead! She is alive! She has not left me! She promised me she would never leave me!

"But she has left you," King James spoke from behind him. Thatcher spun in surprise, wondering how his father could have gotten into the birthing room. Except, it wasn't the birthing room any longer. They were in the ballroom. It was completely void of all furniture and things. "Has she not?"

Thatcher shook his head vigorously. "She has not left me. She cannot leave me," he said as tears poured down his cheeks freely.

The king clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and began to walk circles around his son. "I told you so, Thatcher. She would ruin you. Now, you are no longer fit to be king."

"She has not!" Thatcher shouted. His voice echoed off the walls and the tall ceiling.

"I told you not to mix business with pleasure. Now, look what you have done," King James continued to taunt him.

Thatcher placed his palms over his ears to silence his father. "I am not you."

"Ah," King James responded as he stopped in front of Thatcher, "but you will be. Heartbreak can turn a man cold, distant... hostile." Chills ran down Thatcher's back when his father chuckled evilly. "Perhaps it was my plan all along - allow Louelle to break your heart so you will become a ruler just like me."