Let your baby making juice stew in the seductress womb some more

As the euphoria washes away, logic comes back, making its presence known. Looking at Eva, still clinging to you with some day dream in her eyes, you come up with two options.

Option one is to fuck and run. If she is pregnant, so be it—she knew the risks of her profession, and a pocketful of royal gold is more than enough to raise a bastard in comfort. She thinks she conned a gullible nobleman's son, but in reality, you got your pleasure, she got her coin, and she will never see you again. Your reputation remains spotless, and your treasury remains untouched by ongoing expenses.

Option two is to bring her into the castle. You are the king, and the castle already possesses everything she just begged for: luxury carriages, stable masters, a sprawling estate, and a veritable army of cute, compliant maids. She will not be the queen because of obvious reason, but mistress? possible.