Copenhagen Cozenage (14 page)
I scooted closer to my nightstand and looked inside the box. It contained a miniature layer cake with almond slices pressed into the sides. It smelled rich and buttery with just a hint of freshly brewed coffee. Finally, I had a chance to take everyone’s advice and pause for a bite of cake. I smiled and tugged at the velvet bag. My hands were cold and tingly after being put under and I fumbled with the strings. Eventually I was able to ease it open. Inside I found an old fashioned photo of a beautiful girl in a evening gown and boxy leather heels. There was writing at the bottom.
Silje Østergaard, age 16
. It was the year before she married my grandfather. A small card of plain linen paper read:
You have changed the course of history and brought honor to your family name. She would be proud, I am sure. We are pleased to host you in our city for this short time, and proud to have seen your moment of triumph.
Sincerely Yours,
Crown Prince Mikkel of Denmark
P.S. You look a great deal like her.
August had crept into my room. He read silently over my shoulder. “He’s right, you do.” He took my hand, still bruised from the I.V., and gently kissed my fingertips. “Only more beautiful.”
I tried to laugh, but it turned to a groan as the movement jostled my arm.
August was wrong.
My jewel-stealing grandmother had been absolutely lovely.
I started to argue but he put a finger to my lips and shook his head.
I looked up into his eyes. They were bright and laughing, not the eyes of a man who would change his mind. Weariness hung about me like a mist, entering my lungs and dragging me deep into the crisp hospital sheets. I saw the dimple in August’s cheek and knew that he was smiling at me. Ah, well, if that insufferable man remained mistaken concerning the quality of my appearance, there wasn’t much I could do about it. I closed my eyes and let him hold my hand as I surrendered to sleep.
23
The Chain of the Order of the Elephant
August, Leroy, and I stood on the far side of the moat at Rosenborg Castle. We waited between the bronze lions that lounged on their carved stone pedestals guarding the bridge.
I clutched an ornate, ebony box and hoped that August was clinging to Leroy’s leash with equal vigor.
At a signal from the head cameraman, we stepped onto the bridge.
The crowd that packed the
Kongens Have
, or “King’s Garden,” roared.
I caught Freja’s eye as August paused to wrap the leash tight around his hand. She was still recovering from a serious concussion, but had been allowed to get up for today. After promising to testify against our grandfather, all charges against her were dropped and I had finally enjoyed several conversations with my cousin in which no one was bleeding or deranged.
We managed to walk Leroy across the bridge without getting dragged through the moat, and a hush fell over the park as we stepped up to the castle doors. This time, they allowed us entrance.
August and I had enjoyed a personal tour of the castle the day before, with time to walk slowly beneath the deeply carved stucco ceilings and linger over every tapestry and rich oil painting. Today our path did not lead through the lavish rooms of the second floor, or even to the spectacular Long Hall on the third story with its gilded thrones and nearly life-sized silver lions.
I held the ebony box tight as we descended to the basement and the vault of the crown jewels. I walked past bright crowns of gold and red velvet, resplendent in their Plexiglas cases.
August yanked Leroy back as he strained to snuffle the thick necklaces burgeoning with jewels.
Slowly we approached the end of the room where Prince Mikkel and his mother, Queen Nicoline II, stood between a collection of stern and silent guards.
The prince smiled at me as we stopped before them. I took a deep breath and held out the ebony box.
The Queen took it from my hands and the vault erupted with cheers.
Queen Nicoline thanked us publicly and Prince Mikkel ruffled Leroy’s ears. Then, after a long round of speeches, August and I marched out of Rosenborg Castle, not as bedraggled tourists who’d lost a shoe in the castle moat, but as honest-to-goodness heroes, the finders of the Chain of the Order of the Elephant and thwarters of my conniving grandfather.
Oh, how the times had changed.
That thought gave me pause. The same young woman who had been turned away at the castle doors was now walking from those same doors to the sounds of raucous cheering and fluttering confetti. What was the difference?
Leroy was not wet, which certainly helped.
August walked beside me in a smart black suit, his blond hair combed straight, though the wind had ruffled it a bit.
I wore a sleeveless black gown and impossible shoes.
But the real difference between not-welcome-at-the-castle Morgan and Yay-you’re-a-national-hero Morgan, was what we’d done. I had the same heritage, the same empty past, the same genes and skin and hair. But I had accomplished something in that lounge at the Nimb hotel that endeared me to the people of Denmark.
August and I had done the right thing.
Actions. My actions had brought me to today.
I looked around at the beautiful gardens, spread out bright and glorious beneath a brilliant spring sky. I took a deep breath, tasting the scent of soft, rolling lawns. I reached out and let my fingers brush the silky petals of a blooming rose. I listened to the gentle drone of insects in flight and closed my eyes, letting the quiet touch of the sun warm my upturned face. It no longer mattered where I had come from.
Regardless of my parents or my past, I, Morgan Nicole Ravn, could do the right thing. I could honor my Lord with what I chose to become.
24
Leaving
I decided to leave Denmark as myself. I’d been showered with extravagant gifts after returning The Chain of the Order of the Elephant to its rightful place. Several of these were fabulous clothing items. But when it came time to catch a taxi for the airport, I’d dug down to the very bottom of my bag and pulled out the tattered jeans. My green sneakers felt like home to my heel-weary feet.
And the Star Jumpers T-shirt I’d packed was a classic. The TV series starship winged its way across a starry universe while Snarvich The Reticent fled a herd of mini-skirt clad beauties who wanted to steal his brain to run the air-conditioning in their underground city. At least the shirt was stretchy enough to fit over my cast. Besides, nothing in the world matches neon-pink plaster.
I sat in a small coffee shop that looked out toward my loading gate.
August was supposed to meet me ten minutes ago.
We had the same flight back to Seattle and plans for dinner when we landed.
Leroy would already be on the plane and August should have been here by now.
A man with long blond dreads and a calf tattoo of a duck driving a speed boat slouched over to the table beside me. He had a duffel slung over his shoulder and carried a good-sized aquarium. “Hey, you with the cast.” He gave me a split fingered Star Jumpers salute and grinned. “Live long and thrive.”
I glared.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well I’ve gotta run to the john. Think you could watch these hissing cockroaches for me. They cost me plenty and I’ll only be a minute.”
I jumped to my feet and stalked over. “Oh, no, you don’t. I am not getting saddled with another ridiculous pet.” I stood too close, only a couple inches from his chest. But instead of stepping out of his personal space, I stood on my tip toes and wrapped my good arm around his neck, pulling his mouth down for a kiss.
The man stumbled back, gaping at me. I pulled out my phone and snapped his picture.
“There, turnabout’s fair play, August. If my grandfather weren’t in jail, you could be the start of a new coffee table book.”
He pulled off the wig and slumped down beside the aquarium. “How did you know?”
I peered over the edge of the aquarium and saw that it housed nothing more sinister than two sticks and some pea gravel.
“The dimple. You’re very tricky August, but I always notice a guy with a dimple.”
August grinned up at me. “I thought you didn’t like my dimple.”
I felt the heat of a blush on my cheeks and made myself busy rearranging the sticks in the aquarium.
August looked at the aquarium over my shoulder, then put his hands on my arms and turned me to face him. “What about Snarvich The Reticent?”
My blush kicked into warp drive.
“What will your emotionless alien hero think, now that you don’t hate my dimple?”
“Perhaps, there is something to be said for a man who embraces human emotions,” I whispered.
“Oh, good.” August tipped my chin until our eyes met and leaned closer to finish the kiss I had begun.
Neither of us paused for any photos.
25
Epilogue—Six Years Later
“Are you ready?” The dimple popped out on August’s cheek as he grinned down at me.
I nodded and he helped me from the car.
“Worried at all?”
I shook my head “no” and he slid his arm around my waist. We crossed the parking lot and walked into our small local hospital. I smiled, noting how nicely his hand fit against the small bump where our child grew. Two complicated pregnancies and my doctor’s concerned warning meant that this was our last baby.
The boys were at Bret’s house making cardboard armor and castles out of all his furniture in preparation for a pillow battle extravaganza. When we’d walked out the door Bret was taking up his cardboard sword to defend himself, while two ferocious dragons prowled a vast network of blanket tunnels eager to attack. I’d told them that we were going to find out if they would get a princess or another little monster. They had both asked for a baby anaconda.
I informed them we would know after my ultrasound.
The technician turned down the lights and settled the cold probe against my belly.
August pulled my hand into his.
We squinted at the grainy black-and-white image on the screen. The spinal cord, tiny feet and fingers, a scrunched up little profile complete with button nose. Beautiful.
“Do you want to know?” The technician turned and looked at me.
“Yes.” I looked up at August. “Yes?”
He nodded, his gaze quiet and solemn.
A memory rushed back to me. Leroy, our old slobbery dog, as he had been six years ago. A glossy, black giant, gallumping through Tivoli gardens wreaking havoc at every turn. I was stomping after him in oozing wet heels and a little red sundress. Of course, Leroy escaped me once again, leaping into a little dragon boat manned by three rowdy boys. I looked back upon that day and saw the sun shining in their hair as the little pirates accepted Leroy’s slobbery kisses. The smallest one flung his arms around the dog’s heavy neck pressing his face into the thick fur. Then he looked up at me, bright blue eyes, a sprinkling of freckles across his nose, and a fierce scowl as he prepared to rescue his new doggy from my clutches.
“It’s a boy.”
I laughed and looked over to meet August’s gaze. “Perfect. He’ll be perfect for us.”
August took my face in his hands and gave me the gentlest of kisses, and I remembered the rest of that terrible, beautiful day. Praying alone in the cellar, bleeding and exhausted and certain that nothing good could come of the hideous heritage I’d discovered.
But God sent an insufferable photographer. To pray over me, to help save my cousin, to love me and show me that we could forge a different kind of legacy.
“Absolutely,” he said. The dimple in his cheek flashed as he grinned. “Tell Bret and the boys to build a third castle. Cause we’re bringing home another perfect little monster.”
“I think this one is going to be a pirate.”
August bent over my hand and kissed my fingertips just as he had on that terrible day at Tivoli Gardens so many years ago. “Of course he is, my love.”
I smiled back. But inside, in that deep quiet place within, where only God can properly hear, I was praying. Praying and thanking my Lord for not giving me what I had anticipated.
How could one forge a new legacy without the unexpected? Pirates and jewels and great, hairy slobbering monsters, these are the things from which legends are born.
Thank you
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