The Heir's Secret Child: A Royal Scandal

The kiss was hot and wild, fueled by his drunkenness, yet filled with an urgency that sent shockwaves through her. This was Catherine's first kiss, and when they pulled apart for air, she felt dizzy. He kissed her again, and as his tongue worked its way down her throat, his hand roamed her body, exploring her curves with an eagerness that left her breathless. Before long, they were both undressed. She should have pulled away. Should have said something, anything. But she had always hoped her first time would be special, and no better way to be disvirgined by the boy she really liked since they were kids. So, she responded to his kiss, losing herself in the heat of the moment and letting her longing take over. As their bodies moved together, she felt the tension build, a swirling mix of passion and uncertainty. She wanted to be close to him, to feel every inch of him. She moved her waist up, which only drove him crazy. He grabbed her hands and pinned it above her head. Then, in a slow, sensual move, he thrust into her, filling her completely. "George..." she gasped. She felt the heat radiating from his body, every thrust overwhelming her senses. There was no turning back now. As their movements grew more urgent, she lost herself in the rhythm. Each moan from him sent shivers down her spine. She felt the world go still, leaving only their breaths, their bodies entangled. With one final surge of energy, he drove into her deeply, the overwhelming sensation pulling her closer to the edge. She felt the heat of his release, of her release too, and in that moment, everything else faded away: the doubts, the fears, and the consequences. As he lay back on the bed beside her, his breathing heavy and shallow, Catherine felt both exhilarated and shocked. What. Just. Happened? The reality started to set in, with panic and fear washing over her. She turned to look at him, but he was fast asleep, a peaceful expression settling on his face. She rose quietly, redressing with shaky hands. Just before she left, she checked to see if the coast was clear, then hurried back to the staff quarters, guilt clinging to her every step. Elizabeth found her just as she was slipping inside. "Catherine! Where have you been? It's nearly three." Catherine turned away, her cheeks flushed. "I... I was with Isla. She couldn't sleep." Her mother studied her, unconvinced, but she let it pass. - - - The next morning, the grand breakfast room glowed in sunlight and polished silver. Catherine joined the row of maids setting out plates, her nerves thrumming each time she moved. Across the table, Prince George sat poised, composed as usual, smiling politely at his parents. Still trying to steady herself from the night before, Catherine fumbled with the tea, spilling a drop. Her hands were shaking as her thoughts spiraled. He doesn't remember... does he? She thought. He's acting as though nothing happened. Her friend, Isla, noticed her flustered behavior but said nothing. On the other hand, George's own mind was a blank ache. He had woken up with a splitting headache, grateful for the pill and water he saw beside him. A thoughtful maid, perhaps? He considered, dismissing it easily. He had no recollection of the night before, except for the laughter, whiskey, his friends, and music at the pub. They had promised him an unforgettable night, and safe to say that they kept their word as the rest of the night was blank. He didn't even know how he got to his bedroom. At the breakfast table, he sneaked glances at Catherine, noting her distraction and the way she wouldn't meet his eyes. Was she upset about something? Maybe she'd seen his drunken state last night and was embarrassed? Or Was she not feeling too well? He would check on her later. As the day went on, George prepared for Eldoria's favorite pastime for the royals, falconry. As part of tradition, he had to always go with a few servants: a butler, four bodyguards for security, and a maid as his attendant. And as usual, he would choose Catherine as his attendant. This was one of the few times he got to spend time with her lately. As children, they were almost always inseparable, but the more they grew older, their roles became more prominent, and they slowly drifted apart. "I'm not feeling too well, Your Highness," Catherine said lightly, masking her nerves. "I... I'll have to decline. Someone else can accompany you." George frowned, surprised. Is she avoiding me? he thought. But why? He sensed a change, but he didn't press. The staff were just as shocked. Catherine's absence was unprecedented. The rest of the maids rushed forward, eager to accompany the prince. After a while, he picked Isla to go with him. As the rest of the staff walked back into the palace, their whispers, speculation, jealousy, and the ever-present rumor followed her. Back at the quarters, when Elizabeth saw her daughter, she was concerned. "You didn't go with George? Catherine shook her head, repeating the same lie. "I'm not well today." Her mother reached out. "Is it a fever..." "I'll be fine, ma. I just need to rest a bit," Catherine replied, hiding the storm inside. Why was he acting so normal? Maybe he's regretting it and trying to move past it. How would her mother react when she finds out? Her thoughts were spiraling. She knew she couldn't keep avoiding the Prince and lying to her mum, but she just needed time to process it. - - - At the falconry grounds, George arrived with his friends and staff. They laughed, shot a few birds, but suddenly, they heard commotion at the entrance as paparazzi snapped away. Princess Katarina arrived with her entourage. As the daughter of King Edward and Queen Margaret, from the Kingdom of Drakonhelm, she carried herself with grace and wit, disarming everyone. One of George's friends introduced the two of them. Katarina spoke politely, talking about her own family, she being the fourth of six sisters, and her father, King Edward, known for both his generosity and gravitas. George matched her conversation, talking about Eldoria and its history. They talked about royal expectations, having both come from different royal households, so they understood each other. Although he found her engaging, George remained cordial but kept his guard. Katarina, on the other hand, was genuinely taken aback by him. Her friends teased, but her smile lingered on George, looking for ways to stay close to him. The day continued on until it was evening, and George returned to the Palace, his mind preoccupied with everything that had happened. Isla found Catherine just before dinner. "What's wrong, Cathy?" she asked, worried. "You've been acting... off since breakfast. Why didn't you go with the Prince? Catherine smiled faintly. She couldn't tell her friend yet. "I'm fine. Really." Isla wasn't convinced. She was about to press further, but stopped after hearing footsteps behind them. Prince George approached, looking dashing as ever. And they immediately stood up to greet him. Catherine tried to steady her thoughts, but she could feel the panic gnaw at her. "Can I have a moment with Ms Catherine?" he asked. "Yes, Your Highness," Isla replied, briefly glancing at Catherine. After Isla left, neither of them said anything. There was a tense, lingering silence between them. Has he finally remembered? Oh God, is he going to put me in the friendzone forever? Then, George stepped closer, looking at her with concern, and asked. "Is this about last night?"