by Geneva Lee
“I understand.” I tilted my head toward the hospital bed. “I’d like to check on her now.”
“Of course.” She hesitated. “And I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”
“Alexander,” I prompted her. “No need to apologise. I will never fault someone for trying to protect her.”
When I returned to Clara’s side, she clutched my hand.
“Don’t worry.” I stroked her palm, wishing I could do more to comfort her. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Clara’s eyes snapped open. “Like hell you aren’t. You’re going to stay with the baby. He needs the surgery, doesn’t he?”
I nodded.
“Then you need to be with him. Don’t let him out of your sight.” Panic coated her words and I knew that she wasn’t going to relax about this.
That left me in an awful position. After days of trying to find her, I didn’t want to let Clara out of my sight. It felt as though she might vanish into thin air again. But I also knew that right now she needed me to be where she couldn’t be. Staying with her might make me feel better, but she would be a nervous wreck. I couldn’t fault her for that.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, seeming to sense my dilemma. “Belle will be with me.”
Belle turned at the sound of her name and nodded. I wondered how much of our conversation, she’d overheard.
“Promise me, X,” she demanded.
It was a promise I had to make.
For sanitary reasons, I wasn’t allowed in the actual operating room, but they were able to find one with a theatre typically reserved for student observations. I had promised Clara I would watch him every second, and I’d walked him to the door, left Brex parked in front of it, and immediately entered the observation area. Still, I couldn’t quite handle the site of my hours-old son laying limp on an operating table while the doctors worked to fix his heart.
This wasn’t the natural order of things. It should have been me lying there, not my child.
“May I join you?” Norris asked from the entrance.
I hadn’t let myself think about Norris during his absence. I hadn’t dared hope that both of them would be returned to me. Now, I felt guilty for focusing almost solely on retrieving Clara. I wasn’t sure I deserved having them both safe.
“You’re quiet,” he noted, coming to stand beside me at the window. “Of course, this must be difficult for you.”
It took me a few more minutes to speak. We watched the operation in mute companionship, each comforted and overwhelmed by each other’s presence.
“I thought you were dead,” I finally said in a voice that sounded too distant to be my own. I had thought it, but I hadn’t allowed myself to feel it. Now those reactions collided, fusing into a strangely frustrated feeling.
“I probably should be,” he admitted. “It was MI-18.”
I nodded. “We figured that out.”
I wanted to tell him everything I knew, but something held me back. I had questions for Norris. There wasn’t a bone in my body that suspected him of anything, but I needed to see this more clearly and I could only do that through his eyes.
“I don’t know what Clara’s told you,” he began.
“I kept making her stop. She needs to rest.” I stood by that decision. We couldn’t pretend this hadn’t happened, but there were more important things at the moment. The monitor measuring my son’s heartbeat, for instance. My eyes were glued to it as we spoke.
“It was an ambush,” he explained, walking me through the night’s events. His story matched up with what we’d assumed. “I never saw them. I let my guard down. Alexander, I’m sorry. Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” My words were thick. I never thought I’d speak to my old friend again. Now he felt like he had to apologise. “I knew you would protect her with your life.”
“I wasn’t paying enough attention.” He shook his head, obviously unable to forgive himself so easily. “I tried to warn her. When I woke up, they tried to convince me that I’d been hospitalised and was in custody for her disappearance. They claimed you had ordered it.”
My eyebrow shot up. “They must not know me very well.”
“Or me,” he agreed. “I knew it was a lie. But I also knew that meant they had Clara. It was all a ruse anyway. They were after something else.”
I stared at the prize they’d tried to claim through the glass: an innocent life. Why? For what purpose? To hurt me? To bring me to my knees? How could I live with myself knowing I’d placed my family in this danger? How would I ever move forward?
“The baby,” I murmured. “Clara said they wanted the baby. I don’t understand why.”
“I think I do,” he said slowly, “but it’s only a hunch.”
“Why?” His hunches were almost always fact. It’s why they had kept him from me during this. The manhunt would have lasted hours rather than days if he’d been by my side.
“I started to suspect when I stumbled on something, but I knew when I saw David. I assume you know about your sister.”
I nodded. We’d figured out that Sarah had been under their control for years while we thought she was in a coma. I didn’t understand that either, but I had a better idea. “She says they aren’t in contact. We’re still investigating whether she can be trusted or if she’s acting as a mole.”
“She’s not,” he said grimly. “I think they kept her in the dark. Possibly, they thought they could turn her to their cause, unseat your place in line, and put her on the throne.”
That made a sort of horrific sense. “But why take Clara? Why not just kill me?”
“They tried, and you survived. We’ve known for a long time there was more to Daniel’s assassination attempt. I’m afraid that was only the beginning.”
“Was this the end?” I asked knowing he couldn’t offer me a comforting answer.
Norris didn’t try to placate me. “I doubt it, but know we know what we’re up against. Who we’re up against.”
“So they gave up on Sarah because Clara had Elizabeth,” I said. None of this led to why they’d taken her now and why they wanted my son.
“I think they found she was too old to manipulate. That’s why they put David into play,” he said, his eyes darting over to me. “I must confess something. I killed him. He was trying to hurt Clara.”
My eyes flickered from the operating table to the look of anguish on his face. At least, this was one sin I could absolve him from. “No, you didn’t. I did.”
“How?” Norris asked in shock.
“He was alive. I found him and when I realized…” I shook my head. I’d acted rashly but I still wasn’t certain I’d made the wrong choice.
“No one could blame you,” Norris said firmly.
“Edward could.” I tried to imagine what I would do if my brother took Clara’s life. There would be no forgiveness. There would be no peace. Nothing would ever be the same. I knew that.
“I will take the blame,” Norris decided. “A brother shouldn’t bear that burden.”
“I’ll bear it all the same,” I said. “I can’t lie to him. I have to tell him.” I’d learned that lying to someone you loved could destroy everything. I couldn’t pretend or make up a story. I had to come clean and face the consequences.
“There’s something else you should know. I expect it was part of the plan.” Norris cleared his throat, searching for words that wouldn’t come.
The pause gave me time to remember the papers I’d stolen from the file during our raid. I pulled them out and opened them. “I found these. It seems like they were doing testing on you. Sarah said they did the same on her. I haven’t asked Clara yet. What are they doing? Why? Do you have any idea?”
“That makes sense.” He turned toward me, drawing my attention for a moment from my child. “I never wanted you to find this out. I promised her I would keep a secret until the day I died. It was our secret—the one bit of happiness your father could never take from us.”
My mouth went dry. I stared down at the strange diagrams clearly labeled with his name and matched up with two other sets.
“Your mother and I…” He took a steadying breath before plunging on. “We fell in love. We were never certain. There were never any tests, but Elizabeta believed that Sarah was my daughter.”
I stared at him, every thought in my head halting at once.
“We suspected Edward was my child as well. Those tests appear to confirm it.” He hung his head. For the first time in my life, Norris couldn’t meet my eyes.
But I wasn’t angry at him. Shocked? Yes. Full of questions? Obviously. This man had been like a father to me more so than my own had ever been. “And me?”
He looked a little sad as he answered. “I’ve always looked at you like a son, but I didn’t meet your mother until after you were born. You are the only one of Albert’s children with a legitimate claim to the throne.”
A curious mix of disappointment and understanding settled over me. Suddenly, so many things made sense. My father’s callous treatment of my siblings. His hatred of me. It must have killed him to see me with the man who’d stolen his wife—but only if he knew. “Did Albert…?”
“Yes and no. He knew about the affair. He had plenty of his own. It didn’t bother him until Sarah was born. He suspected what Elizabeta knew,” Norris said simply. “We guarded that knowledge with our lives.”
“And somehow MI-18 found out about it.” It was a lot to process in a day that was already full of overwhelming events.
“I’ll tender my resignation tomorrow. Today I would like to watch over your family,” he said quietly.
“Like hell you will,” I roared. “I can’t blame you for being a man. You were a better father to me than he ever was. This isn’t a job. You can’t quit family—and you are family.”
We would be forced to face this later. We’d have to confront the harsh reality of what this meant to who we were and how it would affect the ones we loved. But nothing changed the simple fact that family was built through love, not blood. Stepping toward him, I embraced him as a father, as a friend, as family.
Chapter 27
CLARA
My family arrived the following morning with fanfare that I could hear from the hallway. I didn’t know who told them we were here—it was probably BBC One. I’d opted to stay through the night to be close to William and receive extra IV fluids. Now I wished I was home where I could avoid the spectacle. Even Madeline Bishop couldn’t get into the palace if I told her no.
“Bollocks,” Alexander muttered from the chair, woken from his nap. He’d only been sleeping for an hour while Brex and Norris guarded the neonatal unit. The hospital was working on setting up a private room so we could all be together. I’d been aching to hold William, having only been allowed to touch him with protective gloves since the surgery. Now I was grateful we hadn’t been moved to our space yet. “Is that your mum?”
“I fear it is.” He was close enough that I could reach over and tousle his hair. When he wasn’t with William, he was always near enough to touch me. He wanted me at arm’s length so he could hold on if needed.
“Should I send them away?” Alexander turned worried eyes on me. He was still deferring to my desires, which was so unlike him that it left me flustered.
I knew he was trying to give me back the perception of control, but wasn’t that all any of us ever had? The illusion that we called the shots? The last few days had taught me that wasn’t the case and regardless of how he treated me now, I’d learned that lesson the hard way.
“Poppet?” he prompted when I didn’t answer.
“Might as well get it over with.” Some things simply had to be seen through. I’d survived child labor. I could survive seeing my family. Alexander stood to move to the door and I panicked. “I don’t want them to know what happened!”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he nodded. He’d told the doctor some of the last week’s events because she’d forced him to with her questions. There was no reason that anyone else needed to know.
Alexander had barely stepped through the doorway when the Bishops burst in. It was such an ordinary thing—balloons and presents and smiles—that I burst into tears.
My mother stopped in her tracks, frozen by my response. Then her eyes slowly swept the room. I knew what she was looking for and what she wouldn’t find. I didn’t have the energy to explain.
“Where’s the baby?” she asked, her voice an octave higher than normal.
“Madeline.” Alexander stepped in to handle the situation before it became a scene. “As I started to say, I need to speak with you all for a moment. Perhaps, the hall…”
“Nonsense. My daughter is clearly upset. No one even called us to let us know the baby was born.” She fanned herself, casting concerned glances at me with eyes that looked alarmingly wet as well. “What is going on? I’m not leaving her.”
“The baby needed a special surgery,” Alexander kept his voice low in an effort to encourage her to do the same. I doubted that she’d bite on that. “He is in the neonatal unit and can’t have visitors.”
“I can’t see my grandchild?” Madeline’s mouth dropped in horror. Behind her my father was doing a remarkable impression of a coat rack for all the emotion he was showing. “Wait! It’s a boy?”
Her energy shifted immediately and she turned delighted eyes on her husband. “A boy, Harold!”
“I heard,” he said flatly. He glanced to me. “Would you like us to leave?”
It was my father’s natural ability to know when his wife was being too much. He coddled her and guided her as best he could.
“Stay.” I wiped my eyes and then quickly tacked on, “For a few minutes.”
I could use the distraction as long as the conversation steered away from the baby’s condition.
Either my mother understood this or she was easily distracted, because instead of insisting on more details, she started to suggest names.
“He already has a name, Mom,” I stopped her. “William.”
“William,” she repeated it like she was trying it on. It was impossible to tell if she approved. “And the other names?”
My husband sensing this was a topic likely to occupy her took the hit. “We haven’t decided.”
“Oh well, let’s see.”
Alexander shot me a long-suffering look over her shoulder as she launched into a list of what were no doubt the current favorites at the polls.
When the door opened a few minutes later, my sister’s dark head peeked in. “Can we join you?”
I nodded quickly. Lola was even better at keeping our mother in check. But to my surprise, she wasn’t alone. Anders loped in behind her carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Give her the flowers,” Lola ordered him, planting her hands on her hips. She looked powerful in a striking red sheath dress that dared anyone to question her.
But Anders seemed unimpressed.
“I know how to bring a woman flowers,” he muttered, glaring at her. I could see that my plan to engage my sister’s help in readying Anders for the increased scrutiny he would face as a member of the royal family was going over like a bad date.
“Thanks.” Alexander intercepted them before the moment could become more awkward.
“Can we see the baby?” Madeline asked.
“Only from an observation window.” I knew Alexander wasn’t going to budge on this point. We both wanted William to endure as little stress as possible while he recovered.
“That’s fine.” Madeline hooked her arm through my father’s and marched toward the door. “Lola?”
My sister looked between me and Anders like she was hoping for an out. The issue was that I wanted her there, making sure our mom didn’t make a scene.
“I should…” Alexander looked torn between overseeing this visit and staying with me.
“Anders will be here,” I reassured him. It was strange to consider that would probably ease his concerns given how he’d onc
e felt about his half-brother.
“Georgia’s in the hall,” Alexander reminded me. I heard him launch into the rules—ones I suspected he was making up—as he led them away.
“How are you?” Anders asked softly, placing the flowers on the table next to my bed.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He hadn’t been here for the brief explanation of what had happened, but he wasn’t one to pry. “How are you?”
“You really want to know?” His mouth quirked into a frown. “Your sister is driving me nuts!”
I bit back a laugh and tried to look sympathetic.
“She’s thrown out half my clothes, insists on taking me to fancy dinners to practice my etiquette”—he wiggled his pinky with a glare that could freeze hell—“and she keeps talking about a plant-based diet. I don’t mind some veg with my rashers, but I’m not about to become a bloody vegan.”
Lola had clearly gotten under his skin, and while I felt slightly guilty for finding it funny, I hadn’t felt this light in days. I let him continue his rant, pleased to see the world through his eyes for a few minutes.
When Alexander reappeared with my family in tow, he announced that visiting hours were over. “Clara needs to feed the baby and well, obviously…”
I had no idea what magic he’d worked on my mother, but she nodded reverently. Dashing over, she gave me a quick hug.
“We’ll visit tomorrow,” she promised.
I tried to hide my cringe. Lola and dad shook their heads behind my back. They’d keep her at bay now that they knew the seriousness of the situation. After all the hugs, I got up, tightening my robe around me as I slid my feet into a pair of hospital shoes for the long walk to the NICU. The weight that had lifted listening to Anders’s rant began to descend again.
Alexander held out his hand and I instantly felt lighter. There was nothing we couldn’t face together. We were alive and safe and we would see this through.
In the hall, Georgia glanced up from a Star magazine, a smug look on her face. “You already made the papers.” She waved it at me. “They said you’re still here getting a tummy tuck and boob job.”