Chapter Sixteen

Elias didn’t get choked up at sad movies. After all, he was a soldier, a defender of his country. But right now? Standing next to Mallory on a square of grass that made a checkerboard pattern alternating with the paving stones in the sunny courtyard? He might actually lose it.

Because his father was talking to Kelsey.

His father, who’d been buried under guilt at losing her for decades. Who’d sloughed off all self-respect and trust.

Even though the royal family never blamed him, Albert saw himself as wholly to blame. The man had raised him with a single-minded purpose—that Elias’s service to the House of Villani might, eventually, atone in a tiny way for the loss of their daughter. That Elias could atone for Albert’s biggest mistake. Neither of them, however, had believed that Elias would not just atone, but fix it.

This was a moment neither of them thought they’d ever see.

“You need a tissue?” Mallory pulled her sunglasses down her nose to look over their rims at him. “Or is one only allowed to use crisply ironed handkerchiefs inside the walls of the palace?”

“Is sarcasm a gift for all Americans, or just you and your sister?”

“I’d say it’s in our DNA…but that’d lead us back full circle to this moment we’re trying to ignore so we don’t bawl.” Looking at Kelsey and Albert seated on a curved bench backed by tall, spiky purple flowers, she said, “Your dad’s a sweetie.”

That coughed the emotion stuck in his throat right out like a hairball. “Hardly. You know, he’s still an active member of the Royal Protection Service.”

“Who does he guard?”

“He’s on rotation for Duchess Mathilde and a few countesses, people who have a slower schedule. He stays mostly on indoor duty.”

Mallory’s neck cracked, it whipped around so fast. “I’m surprised he’s still a bodyguard. I’m not trying to throw shade, but you let a princess go missing, seems like your job security should be shaky, at best.”

“The king himself insisted he not resign, as did the queen. They said that if they, as parents, weren’t to blame for losing her, then neither was he.”

“I’m dying of curiosity how he’s going to tell her.”

Elias had told Mallory why he wanted, needed his father to meet Kelsey. That way she could engineer them having “private sister time” so that no courtiers would overhear his father’s apology. If she ended up going back to New York, this could be the only chance to give his father closure. “I don’t know, actually.”

“Can we get closer?” Without waiting, she inched along the brick borders of the flowerbeds until they stood, barely hidden, by an archway.

“So you knew my mother,” Kelsey said.

“My wife, Alora, was a lady-in-waiting to the queen, a trusted and beloved confidante. They were pregnant at the same time. That’s how Elias and Christian became so close—they were together from the cradle. Nothing kept those two apart.” A smile ghosted at the edges of his father’s mouth.

Kelsey gave him an encouraging grin. “I imagine they got into quite a bit of trouble.”

“Trouble…” Albert’s face clouded over. “Your Highness, thank you for allowing me to see you.”

Damn it. Apparently, the polite chitchat was over just that fast. His dad was determined to martyr himself at Kelsey’s feet. Even though Elias had sworn up one side and down the other that it wasn’t necessary.

“Of course. Elias has met my family.” She leaned closer, one hand splayed across the neckline of her pale-pink sundress. “He knows them far better than I do, as a matter of fact. It’s only fair I should meet his.”

“No, this isn’t what you think. I’m here to apologize. I’m so sorry.” Albert slipped to his knees, head drooping. “So very sorry, Your Highness, for I’m the one who was guarding you when you were kidnapped.”

Kelsey’s entire body jerked, as though she’d been pushed, but her voice was remarkably steady when she said, “Oh. Elias never mentioned that.”

“I’m sure he thought you’d never speak to him again if you knew.” Albert sounded broken. Old.

Elias wondered if forcing this meeting had been a mistake, after all. Seeing his father slumped in sadness tore at his heart.

“Nonsense.” She grasped his forearms and pulled him back up to the bench. “Mr. Trebanti, it wasn’t your fault. I’m guessing if someone paid you to look the other way while they scooped me up, you wouldn’t still be in the palace. Do you want to tell me what really happened?”

Elias put a hand on the sun-warmed stone. He hadn’t ever heard his father tell the tale. Only the official and media versions. And he felt a measure of comfort when Mallory curled her fingers around his.

“The royal family was on holiday in Kenya. No official engagements, so protection was lighter than on some foreign trips. No crowd control necessary, just standard rotations.” Albert told it in a rhythmic cadence, as though he’d said the same words, in the same order, hundreds of times. “But the staff at the resort were all natives. One of them must’ve drugged my drink, just like they did to the nanny. It was an odd mixture of local juices—the taste was so off, I thought the fruit had turned. I threw it into a planter after a few sips.”

Kelsey cupped her hand around the side of her mouth, as if about to divulge a deep secret. “I once spit out a walleye cheek and hid it in a centerpiece. Some things can’t be swallowed.”

There was her innate kindness shining through. That gigantic heart that astonished him constantly.

“When I didn’t pass out fast enough, they hit me with a poisoned dart gun. That did the trick.” Absently, he tapped at a spot just below his ear. “I was in a coma for three days. When I woke up, you were gone. Everything was different. I’m so ashamed.”

“It doesn’t sound as if you did anything wrong. It sounds as if you almost died trying to protect me. There’s no apology necessary.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“For what—the wonderful life I led? Because that’s what I had with the Wishners. I grew up on the edge of a beautiful lake, surrounded by people who loved me. An average American childhood. Thoroughly wonderful in its ordinariness. I wouldn’t give up a day of it.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for telling me. I see where your son gets his bravery.”

The doors to the courtyard slammed back against the wall. Sir Evan threw his arms wide open. “There you are.”

Mallory hurried forward, sandals clacking against the stone path. “Yes, right where I told you we’d be. Imagine that.”

After sniffing at her—it was his signature move that no one in the palace escaped aside from the king and the grand duchess—Sir Evan gave a micro-bow to Kelsey. “Your Highness, you’re meeting with your grandmother in half an hour.”

She tilted her face up to the cloudless June sky. “Which gives me twenty-five more minutes of soaking up the sun.”

“You can’t meet her in that. Your arms are exposed. Your”—he circled his hand at the top of his chest—“is exposed. One must dress appropriately to meet with the grand duchess.”

Kelsey glared at Sir Evan. “I’m sorry, Mr. Trebanti. Apparently, I’ve been sitting here chatting with you practically naked.” Elias’s father snickered. “But I’m looking forward to hearing more stories about your wife and my mother.” She locked arms with Mallory and swept inside the palace.

Naturally, Sir Evan managed to slam the doors behind him. His attitude was louder than that purple and black brocade vest he wore. “He’s puffed himself up since being appointed as the princess’s secretary,” Elias commented dryly as he approached the bench. “Amazing how he speaks English perfectly until it comes to parts of the female anatomy.”

Switching back to their native tongue, Albert asked, “Elias, do you have a few more minutes?”

“My shift is over, but we shouldn’t hang about in the South Courtyard.” He nodded at the steps that led out and up to the path to the rose gardens. “Do you feel better, Papa?”

Albert gave a light swat to the back of Elias’s head. “Do you just want to be told that you were right?”

“No.” Ha! His father would see right through that. “Perhaps. A little.”

Elias didn’t need to be right. He needed to know that the meeting had, indeed, given Albert peace.

“I’m grateful you introduced me to the princess. Being able to tender my apology to her personally was, indeed, satisfying.”

“Good.”

At the landing he paused under a hanging pot overflowing with pink and purple fuchsia, and turned to face Elias. “But you must break it off with her. Today. I beg you. If you’re discovered, it’d be the end. For both of us. Not just the loss of both of our jobs, but also the loss of my pension. We’d be ruined. The Trebantis can’t live down a second family disgrace.”

Damn it, Elias knew all of that.

He knew the cost. The danger of being dismissed from the RPS. Of losing his lifelong friendship with Christian. Of him and his father being left with nothing. His father was close to retirement. And who’d hire a bodyguard that the royal family fired? Not to mention that the humiliation would no doubt break his father. Who would, undoubtedly, never forgive him. So he’d lose all that was left of his own family along with losing the brotherly bond with Christian.

All of this disaster would be his own fault.

But no matter how much he cared for Kelsey, it would be over soon enough. Her position, the revelation to the world of her existence, would make sure of it. As would her return to America, if she chose that instead. So he’d damn well indulge in these last few days possible with her.

She was worth the risk. Worth everything. In fact, Kelsey was quickly becoming everything to him.

So either way, his entire world was about to crash down around him.

The temptation to yank down that damned pot and hurl it across the courtyard with all his strength was…immense. “I’m happy, Papa. Can’t you see that?”

“I do. And it does not matter.”

“Of course not.” Elias didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. The prioritization of loyalty had been drummed into him for a lifetime. “Because you always put the royal family first, even ahead of your own son.” He should stop there. But frustration, no, anger at his inevitable loss of Kelsey forced out the question he’d never once let slip. “Why must they always be more important than us, every second of every day?”

“Because the Villanis are the very heart and soul of this country. What’s best for them, what keeps them safe and happy, trickles down to the rest of us. The royal family parents us all—the entire kingdom.” He curled one hand around the skinny wrought-iron railing. The other he clawed painfully hard around Elias’s wrist. “See that you don’t let your parents down—the king…or me.”

…

Kelsey glanced out the diamond-shaped window of the staircase. The velvety violet of dusk clung to the mountaintops. That made it…almost lunchtime back home? She reached for Mallory’s hand as they took the final few steps. “Do you think they’re still in New York, or back in Michigan by now?”

“Mom and Dad? I don’t know. With all this talk of Interpol, maybe they even flew them to D.C. to be questioned more?”

“At least we’ll finally get some answers.” She hurried soundlessly down the cream-and-gold curlicued pattern on the carpet. Carpet that was identical to several other hallways, but Kelsey didn’t think she’d seen this one before. “Marko, where are you taking us to do this phone call?”

“Your office, Your Highness.”

Her what now? “Since when do I have an office? Why do I have an office?”

“All the senior royals living in the palace have one.”

Oh, FFS! “I don’t live in the palace.” Not yet. Maybe not ever. “I’m just visiting.” Why did nobody but Mallory believe her? Did they think she’d get tired of repeating herself and just stay?

Marko halted. “Your Highness, you are a blood princess, third in line to the throne of Moncriano. No matter where you may be in the world, you will always have a home, a bedroom, and yes, an office here in Alcarsa Palace.”

“So there!” Mallory stuck out her tongue. “Guess he put you in your highly elevated place.”

“As for why you need one, I’d suggest this call with the Wishners is a perfect example. They are on hold. All you need do is pick up.”

“On hold?” No. Oh no. “How long have they been waiting?”

“The rest of the world—aside from your family—waits for you. Never the other way around.”

Her clever bodyguard had circled the question without answering it. “But they are my fam—” Kelsey broke off, realizing arguing with Marko would be a waste of time she didn’t have. “Never mind. But pick up the pace.”

She and Mallory began running. Sure, their dad had been late to a lot of activities due to medical emergencies. If anything, it made him that much more hypervigilant about punctuality. Waiting for God knows how long would’ve ticked him off…royally. Ha.

Marko indicated an already open door, and they dashed in. Lunging at the dainty desk, Kelsey stabbed at the speakerphone button. “I’m so sorry we’re late!”

“We’re so sorry about…everything,” replied her dad in a low, humbled tone.

What was it with people today? First Elias’s dad rocked the martyrdom, and now her own. Both of which made no sense whatsoever.

She was shutting that down now. Kelsey circled the desk and plopped into the high-backed, white upholstered chair.

“Sorry for what? For loving me? Spoiling me? Paying for braces and the trendy sneakers I had to have? No, Dad, I don’t want an apology from either of you, and I won’t accept one.”

In the deafening silence that ensued, Mallory wiggled onto the corner of the desk. Kelsey promptly shooed her off. The desk—like everything else in her rooms in the palace—looked old and dainty and all kinds of fragile. Its white curved legs and undoubtedly real gold trim along every edge and cutout did not look capable of handling a modern American ass.

Pulling up a fringed footstool, Mallory finally said, “Hi, guys. Is Mom there, too?”

“Oh, sweetheart, yes, I’m here, and it’s good to hear your voice. I’m so glad you two are together.”

“That’s the only way the Wishner sisters roll.”

“Are they treating you well?” their mom asked hesitantly.

“Like royalty,” Mallory deadpanned. It broke the tension. They all laughed. Probably a little too long and a bit too heartily for the level of the joke, but it felt good.

Kelsey didn’t want to waste this precious call on chitchat, though. “The bigger question is, are you okay? Are you still being held? How much trouble are you in?”

“Don’t worry about us.” Ed sounded resolute and reassuring—his standard doctor voice. “We always knew this day might come. I think we’ll be released any day now. Everyone finally believes we didn’t do it.”

“What did you do? Exactly?”

“We were medical missionaries. We were going to save the world. But we decided to save you, instead.” Cybill said it with pride.

While grateful for her life with them, it set off alarm bells to Kelsey that they’d “saved” her. From what?

Mallory shot her an equally worried look. “Um, that sounds ominous. A baby princess doesn’t need saving. The setup here’s pretty sweet.”

“We were in a makeshift clinic in Ethiopia. Long days, treating so many people who’d never had any medical care. It was exhausting and invigorating and we thought we’d found our calling. We’d left Mallory at home with your grandparents, and were thinking of sending for her so we could stay indefinitely.”

This was nuts. Their parents had never mentioned being missionaries. They never went anywhere, never took vacations, and basically worked to convince their girls that the big, bad world was far too dangerous to ever be explored.

Ed took up the telling. “We went into the bush one day, and when we came back to our tent, there you were on our bed. Swaddled up, sleeping. There was a note pinned to your blanket. It said, ‘We know who you are. We’ll be watching you. Take good care of the baby. Tell no one, or you all die.’”

Mallory circled her hands, as if trying to pull details out. “That’s it? No signature? No explanation?”

She’d wanted answers. Instead, her parents only provided more questions. Too frustrated to sit still, Kelsey got up to pace around the Oriental rug in shades of pink and lilac in the middle of the floor. “Someone threatened you into keeping me safe? What kind of weird villain does that? Why kidnap me and not ask for ransom, but just give me away?”

Ed gave a long, deep sigh. “As we’ve said to multiple police agencies, we don’t know. The best guess is that at least two people kidnapped you. One of them had second thoughts. Giving you back would’ve meant getting caught, so they gave you to us.”

They made it sound so black and white. Kelsey did not find it so. Who just keeps a random baby that shows up like a pillow mint? “Why didn’t you tell the police?”

“We couldn’t. It said they’d be watching. And were they just watching us, or Mallory back home, too? Our only choice was to obey the note, which wasn’t a hardship. This mission was going to be our last chance to make a difference, or so we thought. Mal was unplanned—it seemed fitting that our second baby was, too.”

Mallory plucked a letter opener topped with the shape of a gold peacock and tapped it against the blotter. “How do you smuggle a baby out of a country? And into America?”

“Well, this was before nine-eleven. Security was more lax. We told the head of the mission that your mom had a medical emergency and had to return to the states ASAP. He agreed to help.”

Kelsey wanted to jump through the phone and shake her dad into spilling everything twice as fast. Through gritted teeth, she asked, “Help you do what?”

“Get out. The whole trip was a NGO, and the family who headed it was very wealthy. When they heard your mom needed immediate surgery, they sent their private plane to take us home. At the airport, we claimed you’d been born in the bush, and that’s why you weren’t on our passports. It was simple, really.”

“We stayed with your grandparents in Vermont for a few weeks,” Cybill added. “Told them we’d adopted you in Africa when both your parents died on safari.”

“Really? They believed something so…movie of the week-ish?”

“They were delighted with their new grandbaby. Meanwhile, we found the clinic in Michigan where we could start fresh. Where nobody knew us, and they’d believe that you and Mallory were our children.”

Mallory snagged the hem of Kelsey’s skirt on her fourth circuit of the run, pulling her back to the desk. “But what about the news? A royal baby was kidnapped. That was probably the lead story, every day, for quite some time. You never wondered if that explained the baby that appeared in your tent?”

There was another long silence. Dad liked his word to be accepted, no questions asked.

“From what we’ve been told, you were kidnapped two weeks before being left with us. We didn’t see any news while working at the clinic—the generator was only for use treating patients. Once we were back home, we were a bit frazzled dealing with a new baby and making sure Mallory adjusted to instantly becoming a sister. Since she was only thirteen months older, her capacity to understand being forced to share us, and everything else, was pushed to the limit.”

Kelsey shoved at her sister, grinning. They’d heard plenty of stories over the years about Mal throwing tantrums for six months straight before accepting Kelsey as a permanent fixture in her life.

“The only truly illegal thing we did was make a fake birth certificate. Your dad went into his old hospital and fudged the records so we could get one for you. We’ve been upfront about that.”

It explained so much. Why they never traveled. Why they didn’t want their daughters to move anywhere, let alone to Manhattan.

“No one ever contacted you again?”

“No, but we never stopped worrying.” More voices blurred in the background. “Oh, we have to go, girls. We love you!”

The line went dead. Mallory shook her head. “That fixed…nothing.”

“Nope.” Kelsey had never believed for a moment that her parents had engineered the kidnapping. She hadn’t needed that reassurance. Some great big “aha” explanation would’ve been nice, though. “But it felt good to talk to them. Really good.”

“It did. Will you thank King Julian for me for making it happen?”

“Absolutely.” And how odd was that? Her dad pulling strings so she could talk to her other dad? Odd and complicated and it left her unsettled, feeling vaguely disloyal to both sets of parents. Was that how the rest of her life would feel—no matter which country she called home? Would she have to choose between them to find any peace?

Wouldn’t that choice be selfish? Horribly hurtful to one branch of family? With everyone purporting to love her, why was she so miserable?

Her temples began to throb. Her jaw clenched. Kelsey wanted to pull at her hair and kick something. The pressure being put on her was too much, the decision too impossible. And yet option three that had come to her four nights ago—running away and starting a third life where nobody could find her—was dumb. A lose/lose scenario.

But there wasn’t a scenario where she got to return to the life she’d always envisioned. So it felt like she’d already lost…

A short rap at the door barely preceded it opening and Duchess Mathilde entering. “Do you like it?”

Mallory popped upright and then dropped into a curtsey. “Your Grace.”

The interruption was timely. “Do I like what?” Kelsey asked.

“Your office? I chose the color scheme, worked with the designers. Feminine but not fussy.”

“Oh. I had no idea. Thank you.” Kelsey turned in a half circle, really taking in the furnishings. The walls were painted a pale green, with white moldings. There was a sage-green chaise lounge, a matching chair and footstool, and built-in bookcases with a sleek TV screen flanked by ornate music boxes. “It’s lovely.”

“I want you to feel comfortable at home. Which is why I’m here.” She put a hand on Mallory’s shoulder as she joined them. “Do sit back down, dear. I’m not one for fuss and formality.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Mallory smiled…but of course remained standing.

Mathilde handed Kelsey a jewelry box. “This was your mother’s. She had it commissioned once you were born. Your birthstone, peridot. She adored it, and planned to hand it down to you on your eighteenth birthday, after years of ‘wearing the love into it.’ I thought it might give you some comfort, make you feel closer to her.”

“That’s so thoughtful.” All she could get out were these inane pleasantries. Kelsey’s head was still whirling from finally hearing for herself that her parents were all right. Learning that Mathilde had put in the personal effort to redecorate for her, and now this sentimental gift, set her heart to bursting.

She popped open the white velvet box. Inside lay a large teardrop peridot, dangling beneath a trio of tiny diamonds and then two more round stones. Three sets of small gold leaves, also diamond studded, crawled up each side of the delicate gold chain, before ending at another pair of round peridots.

Realizing it had last touched her mother’s skin shook her to the core.

Cued in as always to her emotions, Mallory lifted it out of the box and fastened it for Kelsey. She led her over to a gilt mirror on the sidewall. “Look at how pretty it is.”

“I guess the queen had great taste.” She trailed her fingers along the stone, then closed her eyes to just feel her heart beat against it. Aside from her time in the tower room, it was the closest she’d felt to her unknown mother.

Kelsey whirled around and hugged Mathilde. “Thank you so much. For remembering this, for understanding I needed something tangible to connect to her.”

“I loved your mother dearly. She wasn’t just my sister-in-law, but my best friend. I want to do right by her. To make sure that you feel and know Serena’s love for you. How happy she would be to see you reunited with your family. Back where you belong.” The older woman pressed a kiss to Kelsey’s cheek, waved at Mallory, and hurried out of the room, dabbing at her eyes.

Kelsey dragged through a slow circle in the center of the carpet. She looked down at the intricate pattern—and then back up at her sister. In a voice on the edge of breaking, she asked, “Where do I belong…that’s the question, isn’t it?”

“You’re running out of time to come up with the answer. Did talking to Mom and Dad make it harder?”

“Yes.” She stroked a hand down the necklace, staring at it in the mirror. Tears filled her eyes, choked her throat. The necklace was her mother’s legacy to her, but Kelsey herself was Serena’s legacy to the country. How could she turn her back on that? How could she risk hurting the people who’d abandoned their dreams to raise her by turning her back on them? “Everything that happens every day makes it harder.”

From behind, Mallory wrapped her arms around Kelsey’s waist, propping her chin on her shoulder. “Even Elias.”

“Yes.” Even. Especially. He was the wild card that made it harder to think. He clouded her brain, stole her attention, and Kelsey could barely suck in a breath when she thought about leaving him. “Do you know what today is?”

“Something awesome like National Hot Fudge Day?”

“It’s Wednesday.”

Mallory’s reddish-brown eyebrows drew together. “So?”

“It’s the day we had matinee tickets to our first Broadway show. We’re missing it.”

“Are you saying missing the show makes it hard? Because it sounds like you now have the money to more than cover the very expensive tickets. And I’ll bet there’s a big fancy theatre within spitting distance here.”

Kelsey turned around, frustrated beyond belief. “It’s one more damn thing, Mal. One more concrete example of what I’ll miss, what I am missing, if I stay. One more dream that isn’t coming true.”

Slowly, Mallory moved her arm in a circle to encompass the pretty office. “Not all dreams come true. But some would call this life of yours a dream. Being stubborn about a million little things can’t be how you make a choice this big.”

“I know. I’m just annoyed and venting.”

“I wish I could help you. You know I do love to tell you what to do. But I can’t this time. I can’t even share my opinion. This decision has to be wholly your own.”

Crap. “I wonder if they sell Magic 8 balls in Moncriano…”