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I stare at the pile of money in front of me, wondering how the heck it got to this point. I'm a twenty-one-year-old graduate nurse suddenly pregnant with a freaking royal baby.

Prince Kai left three hours ago and came back half an hour ago to drop off an envelope with a lot of money in it.

So now I'm a twenty-one-year-old graduate nurse, pregnant with a royal baby who suddenly has two thousand pounds in cash on her bed, and just screwed the fifth in line to the British throne for a second time.

How does this even happen? And how did we manage to just agree to this deal without so much of months of agonising? I don't understand how this is happening.

Well, I do get it. The birds and the bees and all that, but one minute it was all fun and sexy, and then two weeks later, it's money being exchanged and no father's rights and royal family and craziness.

The money is enticing and seeing this much in cash is insane. With this, I could pretty much go on a massive spending spree, or buy a new phone, or a new laptop... or anything, really. My wages are okay, but seeing this much is something else. And Kai told me he's only going to be giving me more as the pregnancy goes on.

Oh, to live like he does.

Well, I could. The moment I ring and tell him I've changed my mind, he would probably whisk me up in a black car, put me in the palace or wherever he lives and give me the easy life until I pop out his child. Then I'll probably be hidden away but still given a decent life while I bring up my son or daughter with palace officials poking in all the time.

Actually, once I pop out the baby, I'll probably be shipped off somewhere to a nice house, given money and told to be quiet while they bring up my baby.

Or is it that brutal? That sounds a little old-school Tudor-style. But you never hear of King Hugh or Princess Lucy having illegitimate children, and if they do, you never hear about them or the other party involved.

My phone vibrates, and I see my dad's contact screen.

"Hey, Dad," I answer.

"Hey, Poppet, you okay?"

I sigh. "Yeah, I, uh, I'm okay. You?"

"Mila, I know when you lie to me. Do you want to come over for a cuppa, cake, and a chat?"

I suddenly choke on my cries. "And a hug?"

"That goes without saying. Do you need me to come and pick you up?"

"No, no, I can drive. I'll be there in half an hour?"

"I'll pop the kettle on. Love you."

"Love you, too, Dad."

I hang up the phone and gather the cash into the envelope, minus two hundred, so I can cash it on the way to my dad's. Walking in with two grand might be suspicious to the government. But I suppose a lot of what I do from now on is going to be a bit suspicious to everyone.

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My dad instantly grabs me in for a hug when I walk into his house. He doesn't ask for an explanation, he just does what he's always done and loves me as his only daughter.

"Where's Anne?" I ask.

"She got called into work this morning. That's what she gets for being a manager," Dad says with a roll of his eyes. "I keep telling her she should be like me and be a firefighter. Now I'm getting old, I'm retired."

I laugh and move out of his arms. "She calls you lazy, Dad."

He grins and winks at me. His dark eyes haven't changed with age, unlike his hair, that's now thinner and getting greyer by the year. "She's stupid, that's what I call her, and she knows it. There's your tea, Poppet."

"Thanks, Dad," I say and sit at the breakfast bar.

Dad moves around the kitchen, grabbing a homemade coffee cake out of the cupboard and cutting me a slice. With his retirement, he's been learning to bake and cook, and he's pretty damned good at it.

"Annie keeps telling me I need to do one of those small businesses, you know, like you see on Instagram and whatever. Selling cakes, doing birthday parties and stuff. I've been asking neighbours and people at her work with kids. I've got a few people interested. They're paying me for samples next week."

"Dad, that's amazing!"

He puts the slice in front of me with a fork before getting one for himself. He's put my graduation photo of me, him and Anne on the wall. Anne's son – my stepbrother – Patrick, took the photo, and they put a photo of us in the dining room. With him being a medical student, he hasn't yet had his graduation, but he will next year, and none of us can wait to add to the collection of family photos. It's weird to think I'm two years younger than him and graduated quicker, and we're both in medicine in some form. I did a few projects with him when they made us do integrated work with the medicine students, too.

"I'd like to think your mother would've been proud," he says as he sits opposite me.

I smile. "You know she would've."

"It's strange. The more time I spend at home, the more I miss her. I suppose with Anne being at work, Patrick gone, and you living on your own now, it's inevitable."

I think about Mum as I eat the absolutely gorgeous cake. She died when I was nine – just old enough to understand what was going on, but young enough that the stress went over my head. She had the same brown hair I do, and the same blue eyes. It hit me harder when I turned into a teen, but by the time I was fifteen, Dad had met Anne and they got married quickly.

Mum's photos are around the house, as are photos of Anne's first husband, Jack. Our little blended family is the best and most supportive thing ever.

Until I rock the boat with my news.

Kai and I agreed we tell no one, but I didn't quite think about the fact I'd have to tell my family I'm pregnant. It's my dad, though. I can't lie about all of this. I trust them not to tell a soul.

"You were upset on the phone, Mila. Did you want to talk about it?" Dad asks.

I sigh and finish the cake. "This is one of your best, Dad."

"Thanks, sweetheart. But you're deflecting. You don't have to tell me, but I'm your dad. Or if you don't want to tell me, you know Annie will listen. Patrick would, as well."

I sip my tea. "Before I tell you, promise me you will not tell a soul. Anne doesn't count, of course, but neither of you can tell anyone."

He furrows his brow. "I promise, but that sounds ominous."

I put my mug down. "Dad, I'm pregnant."

Time stops for a full five seconds while he sips his tea, puts the mug down, and stands up. "You mean to say, I'm going to be a granddad?"

I nod. "That's part one of this strange situation, but yeah, the bottom line is, you and Anne are gonna be grandparents."

"I—you don't look pregnant."

I laugh. "Dad! I only found out a couple of days ago. I'll barely be five weeks yet."

"Sweetheart, that's—what about your job? Who's the father? I didn't know you were dating anyone!"

"My job—I mean, I'll get maternity pay, and then I'll work it out after that, maybe go part-time for a few years."

He laughs. "You know we'll help you out. Especially Annie. You won't keep her away from her step—"

"Dad, she'll be nanny or grandma or whatever. She might not be Mum, but she's been my mother figure. She's never been comfortable with me calling her Mum, but she practically is. I've got two mums. And now I never wanna say that word again!"

He smiles and I watch the tears welling up in his eyes. "Mila, you don't know how excited she's going to be."

I sip my tea. "But serious for a second... this is the bit you have to keep to yourself."

He turns serious. "Why does this feel ominous?"

"Without doing the whole awkward father-daughter sex talk, because I don't need it. I'm not dating anyone. It was a—" I clear my throat. "Yeah, it was just once. But this guy left his number, and I didn't call him until I found out. We met in a club, and he was nice and everything. He gave me the name Lucas."

Dad sips his tea. This is clearly uncomfortable right now, so I change tack quickly.

"Anyway, I phoned him to tell him I'm pregnant. He tells me it's complicated, and he'd come over to discuss. Turns up earlier... and the father of my child is... well, it's Prince Kai Abbott."

Dad chokes on air and nearly topples off the chair. "Mila, are you fucking with me?"

I don't answer because this was pretty much my reaction, too. I don't blame him.

"Why'd you let me think—"

"Dad—" I pull my phone out and show him the pregnancy test photo I took in case of this kind of reaction. "I can go and do another test, I'm not shitting you."

"How the hell did you—the fifth in line to the British throne? Mila!"

I nod. "I fainted when he turned up. Literally, Dad, I haven't—there's no one else it could be. I promise you. Thing is, he turned up earlier and said, if I didn't want to put this baby through the royal life and marry him, then we have to keep this a tight-lipped secret. He's not going to be involved, and he'll pay me money to, you know, help. Then when the baby is old enough, I'll tell it the truth and it'll be up to him whether or not to be involved in the royal life."

Dad shakes his head and paces the kitchen. "My grandchild is of royal descent?"

"Yeah. When I met him, he had different hair, and put coloured contacts in. He told me he goes around in disguise so he can lead as normal a life as he can some days. Sounds like he hates the royal life."

He scoffs. "How much is he paying you?"

"I don't know. A sizeable sum. He paid me two grand today."

"Fuck me, Mila. You're having this baby?"

I nod. "Thought about it for a while and I want this. I have a good job, and while I might be doing this without a partner, I want this. With this on top, the money helps, and if I do this in secret, then the child will have a choice. Kai told me that if the family found out, they would force us into the royal life, and the child wouldn't have a choice. It'd be press, pressure, forced royal work. At least this way, I can give the baby a better life."

He sighs and stares at me for a few moments. "This is... crazy."

I finish my tea while he takes it in. The graduation photo of us on the wall shows a happy family, and it fully reflects the Kennedy/Hansen clan. This baby will absolutely be loved and cared for and will have a happy upbringing in this family. I've no doubt this is what's best for it.

"But your secret is safe with me. Well, and Annie, if you'll let me tell her?" Dad asks.

I nod. "Of course."

"Wherever this baby comes from, Mila, sweetheart, this is amazing. You're going to be such a wonderful mother. This baby is going to be so loved."

Tears escape both our eyes as he grabs me in his arms for a hug.

"I love you, Dad," I whisper.

"Love you too, sweetheart. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, we'll be here for you. Me, Annie, and we all know Patrick will too when he can."

"Thank you."

"Never thank me. I'm so excited! But more than anything, I'm here for you. Always." He finishes his tea. "More importantly, what're you gonna do with the money?"

I chortle. "Save it. I'll get big and need a new wardrobe, and then need stuff for the baby, so I'll save it for then. Do you need—"

"Don't finish that question. That's not mine. It's for you and the baby. I don't need money, okay? Worry about you and the little one."

"Yes, Dad."

"I reserve every right to buy you a pram, however."

"Dad, you don't need to do that! Kai's giving me money for that. Prince Kai sounds so formal, seeing as he's my baby's father, but...yeah, this is so weird."

"You're telling me! I never thought I'd be a granddad at fifty-one! Never thought I'd get to retire this early, either. I was talking to Annie about looking for a little part-time job, but now we've got a baby coming in, I won't need to!"

I laugh. "Dad, I'm only four weeks. Let's hold off on the excitement for now, all right?"

He nods and kisses my forehead. "It'll be hard, but I'll try. I'm so proud of you, Mila. Your mother chose your name, you know."

I smile; he tells me this story all the time, but every time, it brings a smile to my face.

"In Spanish, it translates to 'miracle', which you were, and still are. My little miracle, now growing a little miracle. I love you, Mila. So did your mother. She'd be so proud of you as well."

One thing my dad has always been proud of me, and he makes sure I know it, too. We've always been close as well. I can tell him anything and he'll never judge me. But somehow, this little nugget of both life and information within the space of half an hour has made me feel even closer to my dad, and I never knew I could get closer to him. His reaction has made me realise that a stupid act of passion — drunken passion — has strangely filled me with excitement, where surely it should fill me with trepidation. 

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