The Keys' Prince (The Royal Heirs) (20 page)

“Thank you. I hope I make as good a king as you will a queen,” he said, leaning down and tenderly kissing her lips.

“Oh, you’ve got me beat already, baby. Take, for example, the fact that I’m going to have to side with your mother, of all things, on the banishment of your Uncle Carlos. I’ll be lobbying for that as soon as you accept the throne in a little less than an hour.”

“Oh, you will, will you?” He asked, centering the large amethyst and diamond pendant in the v of her throat. “And what, by the way, do you make of that whole honorable thing he tossed out there last night? I meant to ask you that when we got home but you seemed to only be interested in dessert and then I forgot.”

“Blame it on me. Fine. I’ll shoulder it,” she said stealing another kiss before their public roles made it near impossible to share more than a sweet look or squeeze of the hand for the rest of the day.

Stella had her suspicions about what Carlos meant by his remark. Actually, she’d bet a substantial part of her fortune that it had something to do with the exchange she saw in the palace gardens between Queen Meredith and the mysterious family of five. But she didn’t want to worry Dario with her unsubstantiated theories, although she did need to think of some way to answer his question.

“Who knows what he’s up to, but why don’t we try not to think about it? Let’s get through the coronation and your father’s funeral, and then we’ll tackle your uncle,” she said, freshening up her lipstick before reaching for her handbag.

“Ok. Sounds like a plan, partner,” Dario said, stretching his shoulders and neck, sliding into the dignified posture of a man who knew and was willing to accept that he was about to be crowned king.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

They made it through the coronation without the slightest problem. Stella wasn’t surprised. So many of the country’s dignitaries were there that she figured the royal family would put on a unified front. And they did. Their well-rehearsed congeniality was in full swing.

It was after-hours, when it was just the family in the palace that the hell fires raged. And also, according to Carlos’ cryptic quip during last night’s dinner, there were major battles brewing in the boardroom of the Kristianico Economic Development Foundation.

Following the coronation, Stella took her place beside Dario to greet the kings, queens, princes, princesses and dignitaries who’d converged on their small Riviera country to pay their respects to the late King Magnus III.

Delegation after delegation made their way up the hill to the palace, where Dario’s father lay in state. Following a massive funeral procession through the streets of Kristianico, the King would be buried in the palace cathedral where he’d married Queen Meredith almost fifty years ago.

More than a dozen heads of state and royalty were expected at the formal ceremony that afternoon as well as dignitaries from seventy-five countries including the French and Irish Presidents, Belgium’s King, Spain’s King and Queen and royalty from Sweden, Dubai, and many more.

Thousands of Kristianico’s residents had already gathered in the square in front of the hilltop palace. For many in Kristianico, where Dario’s father had ruled for sixty years, today marked the end of what at times was a restless era. As much as they were thankful for and grateful to Dario’s family for building Kristianico to the thriving coastal country it was, they knew that the best of Kristianico was yet to come, now that Dario was their king. Today marked a huge break from their uncertain past and a gigantic step into what was widely held to be a very promising future.

The public service would be a mix of royal pomp and tradition and quiet reflection. Extremely tight security had transformed the busy streets of downtown Kristianico into an eerily silent ghost town. All shops were closed and any parked cars had been removed from the streets, which were beginning to be lined with mourners dressed in head-to-toe black, held in check by white-gloved policemen and women. Sleek sedans came through the crowds bringing the last of the dignitaries to the palace chapel where Stella, Dario and his mother, along with all of the late king’s siblings and their families, Carlos included, waited to formally receive them.

Stella held Dario’s hand throughout the brief service and was struck by the strength he showed despite the fact that he was grieving. She also couldn’t help but notice that Queen Meredith didn’t seem to be grieving at all. She looked the part in her deep purple, designer suit and matching veil, but she never shed a single tear.

Following the service in the chapel, the dignitaries were escorted to the palace’s official reception hall—the elegant and stunning Grand Salon—to pay condolences to Dario and the rest of his family. As Stella stood next to Dario and greeted each and every person in the line, her mind was nothing but a dizzying sequence of names, countries and kingdoms. She felt like a machine going through pre-programmed tasks instead of a human being with emotions and thoughts to deal with.

Not sure how long she’d been at it she suddenly blinked and then blinked again. She leaned forward as far as she dared to without attracting unwanted attention. Could it be? She must be imagining things. Surely she was just delusional after standing here for so long.

Maybe she should take a break and sip some of the water that Tippi had been trying to push on her from her post behind the royal family’s receiving line. But she didn’t have time. Not now. She had no idea what was about to take place, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good, and Dario would need her more than ever.

As the woman she was focused on made it to the point where she was standing in front of the Queen—her four children lined up behind her—Stella reached for Dario’s hand so he’d know she was there.

Now that she was practically standing in front of the woman instead of seeing her from thousands of yards away through her window to the garden, Stella wasn’t sure her knees would hold her. But she was obviously doing better than Queen Meredith though, who just as Dario reached for her, fainted into his arms.

There was so much commotion as the Royal Guard went into high gear to secure the King, Queen and Stella, too, that it seemed like everything that was happening was shrouded in a dense fog.

The Guard stopped the receiving line, ushering the family of five as well as all of the remaining dignitaries out of the Salon and into the waiting area on the other side of the room’s massive bronze doors.

“Did you see that woman and her children?” Dario asked taking the second glass of water that Stefan and Tippi had brought him. “I look just like them.”

“I did, but it’s actually not the first time I’ve seen them,” Stella said, glad that no one else was close enough to hear their conversation.

“What do you mean?” Dario asked, a mixture of fear and uncertainty furrowing his brows.

“Yesterday. I was relaxing in the window seat looking into the garden when I saw all five of them meet with your mother. And it didn’t appear that they were on the friendliest of terms.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dario asked, his tone holding more disappointment than anger, although she could tell she’d hurt him by withholding the information, and she hated that.

Maybe she shouldn’t have waited to tell him. But it was obviously too late to second-guess her decision.

“Well...I didn’t think it was any of my business, especially after the woman slapped your mother and-”

“She slapped my mother? The Queen? She slapped the Queen?”

“I was going to ask you about it this morning, especially given what your Uncle Carlos said about your mother and the whole honorable thing but-”

“Wait a minute, Stella. I know this sounds crazy, but I’ve got to say it. Those kids, well, they’re not really kids, are they? Especially the three boys. They’ve got to be, what, in their mid twenties? And the girl, maybe in her late teens? Whatever their ages, they look like me. Like my father and me. Don’t they?”

“They do, baby. Yes. They do,” Stella said, unable to ascertain from Dario’s awestruck expression if he was happy about that or devastated.

“You don’t suppose that after all of these years-”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Stella said wrapping her arms around Dario’s waist, not giving a damn if that was appropriate protocol while in the Grand Salon. “But what do you know about your parents’ marriage? More importantly, what do you think your Uncle Carlos knows about it?”

Before Dario could answer, Carlos swooped in like a vulture smelling carnage, circling his prey, deciding whether or not now was the time to dine on their misfortune.

“The resemblance really is uncanny, isn’t it? If you ask me, too much to be coincidence. But of course you didn’t ask,” Carlos said, the smile slithering across his lips taking sinister intentions to new heights.

“What have you done?” Dario asked, keeping his voice low on account of his staff, who still crowded Salon, but not low enough to mask that he was on a dangerous edge.

“It’s not what I’ve done. It’s what your father did...to this family,” Carlos said, looking more sure of himself than ever, if that was even possible.

“Who are they? And why are they here?” Dario asked getting closer still to loosing the cool he was known for.

“I’m thinking you can probably hazard a fairly accurate guess as to who they are. I mean, c’mon, you did look in the mirror this morning, right?” Carlos asked and harrumphed.

“Are you telling me that they’re my brothers and sisters?” Dario asked, still somehow able to keep his voice relatively low and calm.

“Would you give that man a prize,” Carlos roared, rearing back his head and laughing hard and loud, as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

“How is that possible?” Dario asked.

“Well now, Your Majesty, if that isn’t a dumb question. How are we ever to believe that you and Stella are ready to give us an heir if you don’t know how one is made?” Carlos asked, appearing totally oblivious to knowing when enough is enough.

Oh he knew, Stella thought. He just couldn’t resist twisting a knife in deeper once he’d stuck it in.

“Who is the woman? Their mother?” Dario asked, for the first time raising his voice loud enough that everyone around them could now hear what was being said between the quarreling men.

“That’s easy. She’s been your father’s lover since long before he married your mother. And it looks like that relationship must have continued during their marriage, before and after you were born.”

“How did they get here today, Carlos? Certainly my mother didn’t invite them,” Dario said, having trouble digesting all of this, judging by the way he was pacing the red carpet in front of them.

“No. No. It wasn’t your mother. She doesn’t have that nice of a heart. In fact, when I brought them here yesterday afternoon, it’s my understanding that she didn’t make them feel very welcome, at all. My dear Anya was devastated by your mother’s cold ways,” Carlos said, for a brief moment looking as if he actually cared about Anya and her children.

“Anya. The children’s mother’s name is Anya?” Dario asked.

“Your Majesty, you have so much to learn,” Carlos said looking happier than Stella had ever seen him. Definitely a cat that had swallowed a super-juicy canary.

“Apparently, I do,” Dario said stopping in front of Carlos and staring him down with a ferocious determination. “But you can be sure that I will find out everything, Carlos. And I mean everything.”

Carlos once again laughed out loud, his booming voice echoing through the vast chambers of the Grand Salon. With each extra guffaw, Stella jumped, her nerves erupting into shivers of sorrow. Her heart ached for Dario.

All of this time, he’d actually had three brothers and a sister. He’d always had such a rough time as an only child without siblings to rely on. That’s one of the reasons that he and Alberto had gotten so close. They were each an only child.

Stella leaned over Dario who was now seated in a chair behind where the receiving line had been. His head was between his knees. He was struggling to take deep measured breaths, trying to get a grip on what he’d been told.

• • •

Even though Dario was only looking at the small space under his feet, the entire room seemed to be swaying. He rested his elbows on his knees and took several deep breaths. With his head down, away from the prying eyes of his family and staff, he did his best to come to terms with what he’d learned.

How much did his mother know? And how long had she known? He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d known for a long time, maybe even for the duration of her marriage to his father.

Perhaps that’s why she’d always seemed so aloof, so cold, so detached from everything going on in their family, which made him wonder if she even was his mother. Dear God. What if he belonged to Anya, too? Was it possible that the Queen raised a child that wasn’t hers?

As one thought after another swirled through his head, the only sense of calm he felt was the feel of Stella’s hands protectively wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He reached for her leg and let the feel of her warm body strengthen him.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered as she dropped her head down so that it rested against his. “I really don’t know what to do. Not now. Not the rest of the day. Not tomorrow. Not the day after that.”