A True King (The Poisoned Pawn Series Book 4)

by S. E. Rose

  He nods. “You are bright. Much more so than my bastard son. His stunted lineage did him no justice when it came to brains.”

  I clench my jaw at his words. They are cold and calculated. He truly doesn’t love the man he raised as his own. What kind of person would hate the child they raised? I contemplate that question. Perhaps, his anger at Agatha was redirected toward Gilbert.

  “You don’t see the long game yet, my dear. But you will,” he says as he watches me carefully.

  “Will you be telling me what the long game is?” I ask. His choice of words is curious. What could a royal’s long game possibly be?

  “All in good time.” He opens his mouth to say something else, but a staff member walks into the room.

  “Dinner is served, Your Highness,” she says with a small curtsy.

  “Join me,” he commands. It’s not a question. I could say no, but my curiosity wins, and I follow him into the dining hall. It’s as stately and grand as the parlor. Two places are set. One at the head of the table, and one on the right side. It looks almost comical. The table could easily accommodate twenty people, and here we are taking up one little corner of it. I suppose a king of his age is accustomed to such things. Eating at a smaller table would probably be beneath him.

  We eat in silence. Every time I think of a question, I second-guess myself. By dessert, I’m pushing pie around on a plate, no longer hungry and full of at least fifty questions.

  “Stay the night,” my grandfather demands. “I’m old and need to get to bed, but there is more to say.”

  I bite my lip as I contemplate it. I’m still annoyed at Christian, even though I have zero right to be annoyed at him; if anything he should still be angry with me. But, again my curiosity gets the best of me. I nod.

  “I’ll stay,” I agree.

  “Good.” King Ivan raises a finger, and a staff member comes over to him. “Please, show Ms. Edgewater to the guest suite in the east wing. I’ll be retiring now.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” the young man says as he gives the king a small bow. I stand to follow him, but my grandfather puts up a hand, stopping me in my tracks.

  “For what it’s worth, Mia. I’m pleasantly surprised to see you inherited so much of me. I’m glad we’ve had this time together.” And with that, he leaves the room out a side door as the staff member waves me toward the main doors. What did he mean by that? Why is he acting like he won’t see me tomorrow? Fifty more questions get added to my list by the time I’m shown to my quarters for the night.

  I go to pull my phone from my bag once I’m alone. Only, it’s not there. Shit, it must have fallen out in the car. Frowning, I look for a telephone in my suite and don’t find one. With a sigh, I decide a conversation with Christian can wait till tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Christian

  Mia’s quarters were locked when I arrived back inside the palace. Even the secret passage door is locked. When I asked Cain to check on Mia after she didn’t answer my calls, he told me that he was informed she had retired early and asked not to be disturbed. Fucking great. The barbarian in me wants to go pound on her door until she answers, but I decide against that. The last thing I need is staff calling my father to tell him I’ve gone mad.

  I toss and turn all night. I’m angry and the fact that she’s angry at me only riles me more. How can she be so upset with me? After the shit she pulled, she should be glad that I didn’t lock her ass up and throw away the key. A few hundred years ago, she’d be rotting in the dungeons beneath the castle.

  At four in the morning, I give up on sleep. I go to my private study and turn on my laptop. Something about the history of Skogdal has been nagging at me for days. I pull up our private library online and begin to scour through ancient documents that have been scanned and cataloged.

  My personal quarters staff arrive at six to find me still reading.

  “Shall I have breakfast brought to you?” one of my staff asks.

  “Yes, please,” I state, not bothering to look up as I continue scrolling through documents.

  I find treaties, agreements, and legal documents galore. It’s an interesting history. There is a definitive break from their past association with nearby countries in the late eighteen hundreds when King Ivan’s grandfather took over the principality and declared it a sovereign entity. But it wasn’t until King Ivan was crowned that the last of the legal documents were signed, making it officially the youngest principality in Europe. It’s odd that a country would be formed in this manner in the middle of the 1900s. These types of things happened centuries ago in most cases. Certainly not in recent years.

  My desk phone rings with an internal call. Sighing, I pick it up, hoping it’ll be Mia. But it’s Pete.

  “Your father’s flight was delayed. There are storms in Paris all day. I’ve advised his pilot to attempt to look for a clearing this evening, but if it’s not possible, then tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. And Auggie?” I ask.

  Pete’s silent for a beat. “I’m still working on him. He is all too comfortable where he’s at. He even mentioned going for a coastal drive today.”

  “I’ll call him later.”

  “Very good.”

  “Keep me informed about the king’s flight status,” I state as I look out the window. There’s stormy weather coming here, too. It was sticking by the coast last night, but it looks like we’ll be getting rain all day as well.

  My research wanes by mid-morning. I turn to my emails, finding one from Tessa stating she’s taking off a few days to visit a friend that’s in town unless I need something pressing. I tell her to log her vacation with the king’s office and enjoy herself. At least someone is having fun.

  By lunchtime, I decide to go find Mia. There’s no way she’s still asleep. I make my way to her quarters, down the long hallways of the palace. When I’m nearly there, Cain stops me.

  “Sir, I was just informed that Ms. Edgewater decided to run some errands in town. Do you want me to have her brought back?”

  Sighing, I shake my head. “No, no need. Just keep me informed when she returns.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Cain wanders off again. I’m beginning to think that Mia is more upset than I previously thought. We’d never even fought up until she disappeared a month ago. Now, it’s like we can’t see eye to eye on anything. I had long thought she might be the one. Father suspects we are more than boss and employee, and he’s warned me not to get involved with staff. But he doesn’t understand, it may have started as a forbidden romance between a prince and his personal secretary, but it is no longer like that. She’s my equal in so many ways.

  I stare out the window, remembering her first day on the job.

  I press the intercom on my phone. “Ms. Edgewater? Can you please come in here?”

  I don’t need her in here. But I want her in here. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I interviewed her two weeks ago. The way she smelled of orange blossoms. The way her hips swayed as she walked. The perfect shape of her breasts as she leaned forward to pick up a letter. She’s beautiful. And then she spoke, and that changed everything. I had met my fair share of beauties, but it was seldom that I met someone who could match me intellectually. And I had never had both in one package before, combined with humility and kindness. My last two girlfriends were princesses. They were beautiful, but also vain, and arrogant, and demanding. Mia was nothing of the sort. She had an air of innocence to her and yet she seemed perfectly in control and strong all at the same time. She was a collage of dichotomies. And somehow, she was perfect.

  I watch as she enters. Today’s outfit is a simple black dress. The neckline isn’t inappropriate at all, but nonetheless, as she leans down to take her seat, I’m gifted with a glimpse of her chest. I clear my throat and try to remember the ridiculous reason I called her in here. Ah, yes.

  “Ms. Edgewater—”

  “Your Highness, really, please call me Mia,” she says as she bites h
er lip nervously. She’d asked to be called Mia on her first day of work. It’s not typical of us to call our staff by their first names. But I secretly loved that she wanted to skip the formalities, because so did I.

  “Well, then, Mia,” I say, dragging out her name, “call me Christian.”

  Her eyes widen. No one calls me this except my family and Tessa, but only because she was my nanny for so many years.

  “A-alright, C-Christian,” she stammers. Her cheeks turn pink. I love how she squirms in her seat. I’ve ruffled her feathers and I quite enjoyed it.

  “Let’s discuss your work after hours this week.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up, and I can see my innuendo has unnerved her.

  “My…after work hours?”

  “Yes.” I pause, drawing out my torture a bit longer. “We have an evening meeting and a gala event this week, do we not?”

  I can see her visibly relax as she opens a tablet to a calendar.

  “Yes, of course, sir.”

  Sir? Now, that I can live with. I grin and watch as her pink cheeks turn a delicious shade of red.

  “I mean, Christian,” she quickly tries to recover.

  I steeple my fingers in front of me on my desk. “I’ll need a date to the gala event.”

  If she was flustered before, she is beside herself now. Her right leg bounces nervously as she chews on her bottom lip. Her blush has crept down her neck.

  “I…uh, do you want me to call someone?” she asks.

  Oh, I can’t even resist this.

  “Call who?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

  “I…mean, did you want to invite someone in particular?”

  Time to go in for the kill. “No. It’s too much of a hassle. Are you free? It would just make things easier if you accompanied me,” I state.

  Her entire body stills. “Me?”

  I nod. “You.”

  “But…I…don’t have anything to wear?” she states, her face contorting in confusion.

  I press a line on my phone that goes to the royal outfitter and put it on speaker. “Ms. Turner?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “ Ms. Mia Edgewater will be accompanying me to the gala this week. Can you please have dresses brought up for her to try on? I’ll text you her measurements.”

  “Of course, I will arrange it for the morning.”

  “Thank you,” I say as I disconnect. My eyes never leaving Mia who now looks a bit queasy.

  “I…but…I’m your secretary,” she says quietly.

  “I know that. And people will think I’m introducing you as my secretary. It’s fine. It’s just a fundraiser.”

  “But I am your secretary,” she states again in confusion.

  “And on Wednesday night, you’ll be my date,” I announce.

  Her face goes white, and she manages to nod.

  “That’s all. Have a good night, Mia,” I say, again dragging out her name.

  My phone rings and I answer, hoping Cain knows more about Mia.

  “Sir, Pete wanted me to inform you that your father’s flight is delayed this evening. He’s fit in one more meeting tomorrow morning, and then he’ll return.”

  “Thank you, Cain. Any word on Mia?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did she not come back from shopping?”

  “I think she is back in her room.”

  I hang up and stare toward my room. If she doesn’t come out soon, I’m going to huff and puff and blow her door down. I’m done playing games, especially with her.

  I angrily get up and walk to her room. I’m surprised to find Pete there. I go to knock on the door. He stops me with a raise of his hand.

  “Leave her. She needs time.”

  I feel myself lose it as I grab his collar and shove him against the wall. “You do not get to tell me what to do! I’m sick of this game! She can come out now or suffer the consequences!”

  Pete stares up at me, seemingly unaffected by my outburst. “Do you trust me?”

  I’m surprised by his words. I release his collar and step back, running a hand through my hair. “Yes,” I mutter.

  “Then, give her some more time. Go calm down. You don’t want to talk to her like this. Let’s grab a drink. Come on,” he urges as he motions to the stairwell.

  I look back at her door. He’s right. I’m not in the right mindset to have a rational discussion. Begrudgingly, I follow my friend. I look back once more, deciding to give her exactly one more night before I have the door unlocked.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Mia

  I wake early with the sun as it comes up over the mountains; the rays penetrating the translucent curtains of the guest suite. I sit up in bed and look around the room. It’s a simple room, but the furnishings are elegant, if not slightly modern for such an antiquated home. I turn and put my bare feet on the wooden floor, feeling the coldness of the room as I stand and stretch. The mirror across from the bed shows how disheveled I appear. With a sigh, I open a window, gauging the temperature before I take my shower. The cold ocean wind whips through the curtains, blowing them about before I promptly close the window. Shivering, I make my way to the en suite and turn on the shower. I hope that the trousers and sweater that I brought are sufficient for breakfast with the king. I have gotten accustomed to the informalities of the Norddale royal family who have all but accepted me as one of their own. Not once has the king publicly commented on my constant attachment to Christian. He brings me to everything as though I’m an accessory. And Prince August and Princess Susanna have been kind and gracious. It took months before I could refer to them as Auggie and Anna at their request, but now it seems normal to me.

  It makes the guilt that much worse. I feel tears threaten as I run my face under the warm water. I know I didn’t betray them, not as I could have, but I did keep the truth to myself, and for that, I will always feel guilt. I wash my face, rinsing away my tears. The soap is a masculine scent, it reminds me of Christian which brings more tears.

  The only time he didn’t use his sandalwood-and-pine-scented soap was when we traveled for a week on Logan’s yacht in the Bahamas. I smile at the memory of the yacht. It was the first time that Christian and I were truly alone. I miss the way he made love to me as the waves rocked the sailboat each night. One night when we were anchored, we snuck up to the cushioned seating area and made love under the stars. It was liberating, to be able to openly love each other without anyone inquiring or giving us looks of dissatisfaction. I miss that. I wonder if we’ll ever be that way again.

  Turning off the water, I dry off and dress. I check the mirror one last time, feeling nervous about seeing my grandfather again. I wish I had my phone. I want to call my dad. I have so many questions for him, but they’ll have to wait.

  I find King Ivan seated again at the ridiculously large dining table. I take my seat as the staff begins to serve us.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asks, as a server lays a napkin in his lap. I’m momentarily transfixed at the formalities of the meal.

  Shaking my head to clear it, I answer, “Yes. Very well, thank you.”

  “I thought we could go out on the boat today, but I’ve been told the weather is not so good,” he says, as he looks out the windows facing the sea. “I’ve arranged a walk in the gardens instead.”

  I nod and ask him how long he’ll be staying. He gives me a non-answer, saying he isn’t sure yet. We make more small talk as we eat. He’s a strange man. I don’t find him particularly warm and friendly, but he’s not as cold and mean as I’ve heard he is. Perhaps he’s misunderstood.

  After breakfast, a staff member drives us in a golf cart out to the nearby gardens. They are tucked between the estate and a large hill overlooking the sea. Here the wind doesn’t whip about, and it feels ten degrees warmer.

  We begin to walk through an old orchard that surrounds the more manicured gardens. Clearly a remnant of the property’s former use over a hundred years ago.

  He’s slow with his cane b
ut otherwise steady on his feet for someone over ninety years old. I wrap my coat tightly around myself, tucking in my scarf to keep warm despite the increase in temperature from the main house.

  I feel he has things to say and didn’t want the house staff to hear us. So, I wait patiently until we come upon a bench. Motioning for me to sit, I comply. I wait for him to speak.

  “You are a roadblock that I didn’t see coming,” he begins. I frown at his choice of words. A roadblock?

  He looks to me and then forward again. “My father was a member of a group called The 44. You know it, I assume?”

  This wasn’t what I thought he’d say, but I nod.

  He continues, “By the time I was of age, I had been taught all about it. I didn’t agree with many of the beliefs. In fact, I was opposed to some of them. I liked our monarchy, but what I learned was that Skogdal was a sham. It’s a shell created by The 44. It could be dismantled in a heartbeat. I reached out to my fellow kingdoms about this in secret, of course. Both the kings of Norddale and Montelandia ignored my pleas for assistance in overturning my father’s rule. They thought I was crazy. And they started cutting ties with us all together. I saw my country suffer and I grew to hate them. They weren’t men of honor. They cared only for their family’s fortunes.”

  He turns to me. “And that’s when I knew I was going to rule differently. I’d play along with The 44, but it was no longer the purpose of the kingdom. I would create a falsehood. A monarchy that would crumble, and with it, doubt would be instilled in Norddale and Montelandia. They would fall with us. I would get my revenge on them.

  “And so, I began scheming. I planted documents that could later be used to question King Michael’s birthright as well as King Edvard’s. I assisted The 44 in their plans to take out the monarchies as well. Each step would assist me in my goal.”

  “But, what about your son? Gilbert?” I ask, no longer able to keep silent.

  “He’s not my son. I thought that was clear. I played matchmaker with a friend cousin of mine. It was easy to get Agatha to sleep with him. I was cruel to her, and she went running to his arms. Nine months later, Gilbert was born. I didn’t even have to get Gilbert’s wife to cheat on him. Gilbert was such a pompous ass from the beginning, it was shocking he was able to marry at all. I may have helped the demise of his marriage a bit, but he all but assisted in the making of his bastard son.”