The Keys' Prince (The Royal Heirs) (21 page)

“I know, baby. I’m reeling too. But can you imagine how Anya and her children feel?” Stella asked, offering him another glass of water, which he gladly accepted.

“I’ve been thinking about that, too. Were they close to my father? Hell, for all I know, they could have been closer to him than I was, which wouldn’t take much. But regardless, they’re grieving, too. And I’m sure my mother, if she even is my mother, isn’t making it any easier for them.”

“I think what we’ve got to do right now, baby, is find a way to get through the day. Get this funeral behind us. Then we take time, gather as many facts as we can, and then...then we deal with all of the tomorrows,” Stella said.

“You’re right,” he said, holding her tight against his chest, knowing that as long as she was beside him, they’d get through this. “God, I’m so glad you’re here. I love you so very much. I hope you know that.”

“As I do you, baby. I’m right here for you. Always.”

He held her close, letting their love begin to heal his wounds.

“We need to be by Anya and her children through this, don’t we?” He asked, knowing deep in his heart that it was the right thing to do.

“I think so. And I’ll be honest. I’ve certainly gotten a better energy from her and your brothers and sisters than I’ve gotten from any of your royal family, other than Alberto and Sophia, of course.”

“I know. Me too,” Dario said, standing from his chair and helping Stella do the same. “Let me make sure my mother is doing better and then what do you say we have Stefan set up a private meeting for Anya, the children and you and me? I’d like to see if they want to be part of my father’s procession this afternoon.”

“Sounds exactly like the man I love and respect. Well done, King Adonis.”

Dario took Stella’s hand, and they walked over to the seating area where the Queen’s attendants had done their best, given the circumstances, to help her relax. Any progress they’d made however was gone as soon as she saw Dario standing over her.

“If you’ll please excuse us a moment,” he said, giving her attendants a polite dismissal.

As soon as the last one left, he pulled up a chair for both himself and Stella, and they sat down beside his mother.

Wondering if he dare refer to her as his mother anymore, his breath caught. No matter how uncomfortable it made him or how challenging it made his reign, he had to know the truth. Only then could he deal with it.

“I’m going to ask you this once, and once only, Queen Meredith,” his voice adopting the same aloof detachment that she’d always used on him no matter how hard he’d tried to get her to show that she loved him. “How long have you known about Anya and her children, my brothers and sister?”

“Your father always loved Anya, long before we were married and every day since we were married,” the Queen said without the slightest hint of emotion.

“Then why did he marry you?”

Dario knew the question had to be hard on her, but he also knew that after all of the lies he’d lived with his entire life, she needed to answer every one of his questions.

“Because it was arranged that he would marry me. Anya wasn’t of the proper linage to be a royal. I was.”

“And what about me? Are you even my mother? Or was that arranged, too?”

The Queen paused. As much as Dario never thought he’d see the day, she actually had tears beginning to fill the rim of her lower lashes. Even now, as he sat closer to her than he ever had before and looked at her the same way he’d stared at their royal family portraits throughout his life, he knew the answer. He knew the truth before she found the way to tell him. He didn’t have one single feature that she did, on the outside or the inside.

“You belong to Anya, as well. My pregnancy was staged—just like most of the rest of my life—according to your father’s wishes. What was best for Kristianico was presumed to be best for me. It’s always been about what’s best for this damn country.”

Even though she cried tears that Dario would have once given anything to see—a small hint that she was human, after all—he didn’t feel the need to comfort her or have the will to do so. To be honest, he couldn’t get far enough away from her.

Without saying a word, he pushed back his chair, reached for Stella’s hand and left the Queen to her misery.

She and his father had caused enough heartache. It was time that Dario did what was right for his family. He could only hope that his gut instincts w
ere right. What was good for his family, his real family, would ultimately be what was best for Kristianico.

CHAPTER TWENTY

As Dario’s father had requested, ten soldiers from the King’s Company bore his coffin out of the palace chapel shortly before th
ree that afternoon. They crossed the public square filled with almost all of Kristianico’s five thousand residents.

As the Royal Band played a somber funeral march, members of the royal family followed the procession. A battery fired a 36-gun salute for the deceased King.

Dario felt nothing but an empty void for the man who was his father.

He hoped with everything in him that he’d never be the kind of man that he was. Yes, his father had obviously loved his country. But what kind of man sacrificed his family, the woman he loved more than anything and the children she gave him for his throne?

Dario looked to his right and then to his left. Every resident of Kristianico was doing the same. With Stella’s help, he’d managed to convince Anya and her children, his real family, to join them in the royal family line.

Once thinking he’d feel alone, without any sense of family surrounding him, as he stood before the citizens of Kristianico for the first time as their king, he felt Stella’s love and the love of a group of five people he’d met less than an hour ago. Together, standing beside him, they filled him with a new confidence and new purpose.

Anya, his mother, seemed like a wonderful woman, full of peace and love, despite what she’d been through on account of his father. His three brothers—David, Deacon and Duke—were twenty-eight. They came off as a polite but guarded team, willing to do whatever it took to protect their mother and sister. Dario not only understood that, he respected them for their concerns. Delaney, his sister, who’d be eighteen in about a week, had his mother’s kindness but a joyous mischief to go with it. No wonder his brothers were never far away from her.

Dario couldn’t wait to get to know each of them and for them to get to know Stella. Since the funeral was broadcast live on television and live-streamed online, he knew that the rest of the world would also be anxiously waiting to get to know them.

Following the private burial for close family members and friends only, Dario suggested that they all go to the family farm to escape the enormous pressure about to descend on them from a public demanding to know who was surrounding Kristianico’s new king.

Heading up the final mountain pass leading to their eighteenth century Provencal bastide, set in the hillsides known for their perfumeries, Dario relaxed into the backseat of his Land Rover, trying to let the amazing sunset soothe his restless spirit.

“I’m so glad to finally get to go to the farm,” Stella said as the SUV wound around the last curve bringing into view the olive groves, fruit trees, fountains and lavender fields that were all magnificent parts of the Magnus farm—Le Nid. “I can tell already that it’s going to be the perfect place to figure out all of this.”

“I hope so,” Dario said, trusting her intuition even more than his own.

Le Nid (French for The Nest) had been recently converted, under Dario’s instructions and careful attention, into one of the finest homes in the region.

While retaining its old Provence feel, he’d made sure to reinforce all of its many structures to provide both the necessary summer cool and a little extra winter warmth. Along with huge stone fireplaces in each room as well as in each of the eight bedrooms, the place had all of the facilities and luxuries of a boutique hotel.

His decorating team had used Provencal, Asian and Italian influences in the eight extra-large suites which had marble bathrooms. There was an elegant grand salon, an extremely comfortable sitting room, a media room, a full-service spa and the best of high-quality kitchens, both indoors and out.

An expansive Sinai stone terrace surrounded the residence and lead to a pine-beamed outside living area which was used for most all of the summer dining and evening parties. Beyond the terrace were the olive groves, a lavender-enveloped swimming pool with a pergola, flower gardens galore and orchards.

“If it were up to me, I’d spend almost all of my time here,” Dario said. “I feel more at ease at Le Nid than I’ll ever feel at the palace, and I think you will, too.”

“I haven’t even walked in the door yet, and I agree with you. You’ve done a magnificent job with this place. As you do on all of your projects.”

“Thank you, baby,” he said, rolling down the back windows and taking in the scent of the lavender lining the edges of the one-lane road winding its way to the front door of the main house.

“If everything goes as I hope it does, I’d like to offer the farm to Anya and her children,” he said, still not quite comfortable referring to them as his family out loud, even though they were quickly becoming the family of his heart.

“That’s very generous, baby.”

“At least it’s a good start to try to make up for my father shutting them out of my life for all of these years. I don’t really know how to begin to fix that,” he said, feeling the now familiar tightening in his chest as he tried to figure out how to welcome his mother and brothers and sister into his crazy life.

“You begin just as you are. By taking it one day at a time and getting to know them. You’ve already gotten through the hard part with an admirable bravado. You accepted them and opened your heart and life to them.”

“I should pay you to be my therapist, shouldn’t I?” Dario asked laughing for the first time since the dreaded receiving line which now seemed as if it had taken place years ago instead of mere hours before.

“With your counseling when it comes to handling the press, I think we’re even,” Stella said and laughed.

“Speaking of the media. We’re going to have a hell of a tough time keeping them at bay for a few days. But somehow, I’ll figure it out. I’ve got Stefan on it as well as Tippi and the rest of our staff, and they know for right now to release nothing but the standard message that we’ll be making an official announcement soon,” he said, pushing the thought to the back of his mind but not too far out of his reach.

Before he’d be able to find the right words to tell his family’s story, he needed time with them. He was hoping that by spending time together at the farm, out of the public eye, and getting to know them and the facts surrounding their relationship with his father and the Queen that he’d be able to figure out the best way to explain it to the world. First, he had to be able to explain it to himself, and he was an awfully long way from reaching that point of peace.

“A day at a time, baby. One day at a time.”

As much as he knew Stella was right, Dario didn’t have too many days to play with. Not when the world demanded the same answers that he was.

• • •

Stella took in the majestic view from Le Nid’s poolside sanctuary. Nestled into the steep hillside high above Kristianico, surrounded by lush lavender and poppy fields, she couldn’t think of a more serene place to take refuge from the world. If only they could stay hidden in the safety of these fields, groves and orchards forever, but their lifestyle and the responsibilities that came with it wouldn’t allow that. So they’d have to appreciate the time they had and make the most of it before duty demanded that they share the royal secrets with the rest of the world.

She chose a wicker sofa, one of a dozen or so pieces of furniture, underneath the large, wisteria-draped pergola and had a seat, deciding to let Dario continue to pace the area not far from the pool while they waited on Anya, his three brothers and sister to join them.

Luckily, it hadn’t been too difficult to convince Queen Meredith to remain at the palace until they decided what the official palace word would be about the part she’d played in Dario’s father’s cover-up.

Welcoming the glorious breeze rippling through the farm, Stella thought about how much they each had to gain if Anya and her children turned out to be the wonderful people that she felt they were with every ounce of her being. In her entire life, she’d never felt such a powerful sense of peace and love from a group of people. Despite the stress and what had to be horribly disturbing choices they’d been forced to deal with on account of Dario’s father’s secrets, they’d chosen to keep their hearts and minds open, loving and full of gratitude. It had to be Anya’s doing, Stella concluded, recognizing the enormous respect she already had for a woman she barely knew.

Seeing Anya leading her family toward the pergola, a tender smile lighting up her entire body, Stella sent a silent request to the universe to bless them all with the love, patience and understanding this process would require.

“King Adonis,” Anya said, beginning to take a deep curtsy upon reaching Dario.

“No need for that, Anya,” Dario said, reaching for her and gently, although with much visible trepidation, taking her in for a light hug. “I’m your son, not just your king.”