The Royal Bastard

by Nicole Burnham

  “Did it ever occur to you that your mother lied not only to protect herself, but to protect you? What if she’d been caught? Would a trial—a very public trial, given my position as crown prince—and jail time have made things better? It wouldn’t have made the situation better for me, and certainly not for the people of Sarcaccia. Would her marriage to Jack Cornaro have ever occurred? Would you have had the childhood you did?”

  Carlo stood, but wisely kept his distance. “In most cases, two wrongs don’t make a right. Was your mother wrong to foster a romantic relationship with her student? Yes. But once that happened, once there was a child involved, can you blame her for using every weapon in her arsenal in order to protect that child?”

  “But to get pregnant again, she must’ve believed that you would—”

  “I made Teresa no promises, Rocco.” The king’s words were quick, harsh. “At first, when my parents arranged my marriage to Fabrizia, I protested. But then, when I knew I had no room to argue, I thought I could have it all, the wife and the mistress. I even thought I might leave Fabrizia and marry your mother someday. But I never told Teresa that. Never. As I got to know Fabrizia, I quickly realized that what I had with your mother wasn’t healthy. I only saw her twice after my wedding. I was falling in love with my wife, and I was slowly, finally maturing. I thank God every day that Fabrizia forgave me for my sins against her, including fathering twins with another woman while she was pregnant with Vittorio and Alessandro. A woman I was beginning to suspect would do whatever it took to keep her hold over me.” Carlo took a step toward Rocco. “Is that what you wanted to know?”

  “You’re saying my mother was a conniving bitch.”

  “I’m saying she made mistakes, but I did, too. Terrible mistakes for which others have had to pay the price. If you need to blame me to redeem your mother’s memory, so be it. In fact, if it makes you, Enzo, and Lina happier, I welcome it. It’s nothing I haven’t lived with my entire adult life.”

  “You know their names.”

  “Of course I know their names!” His face flushed with emotion and he put a hand to his chest. “They are my flesh and blood. Believe it or not, I’ve loved the three of you your entire lives. Not a day goes by I don’t wish I’d raised you myself so I could know you. So I could see you change and grow and become the people you are today. But it wasn’t to be. When I finally told your mother that we needed to end it—completely end it—she refused to let me see you again. I hated that. Hated what you must have thought of me.” The edges of the king’s mouth twitched in shock at his own outburst. He took a deep breath, then added in a calmer voice, “On the other hand, I can’t fault Teresa for how she raised you. All three of you are intelligent, moral people. Good people. Over the years, I have told myself to be content with that.”

  Rocco grit his teeth. All his life, he’d despised this man without knowing him. Yet Carlo had loved Rocco and his siblings without knowing them. With every fiber of his being, Rocco knew the king was telling the truth about that. Both he and Carlo had been at the mercy of Teresa’s filter in learning about the other.

  Carefully, Rocco said, “It’s a difficult thing to discover that the person you thought you knew best lied to you.”

  Carlo considered that. “I’m sure it weighed on her to lie to you, to your sister and brother, and to Jack, especially given what I know of her relationship with the man. But she did it to protect you. Let’s give her credit for that and let her rest in peace.”

  Rocco closed his eyes for a beat, then turned and strode to the rear windows, which overlooked the spacious stone patio. He could see the fire pit at the far side, its flames dancing in the clear black night. As Justine had said, there was a stunning moonlit view that extended across the Adriatic. Kos’s parents had trimmed just enough trees to provide a panorama of the sea while maintaining their privacy. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Rocco spied Justine on one of the roughly-hewn stone benches that encircled the fire pit. She sat with her back to the house and wore a light blanket over her shoulders. She’d propped her feet on the edge of the pit and her head was tipped back as she stared up at the stars.

  Quietly, Carlo joined him. After taking in the view, he said, “No matter what happens after tonight, no matter how you and your siblings decide to proceed with whatever information I have given you, I am glad you contacted me. Jack Cornaro will always be the father of your heart. He earned it. But I am your father, too, and I will be here if and when you’re ready.”

  “You’re quite the diplomat.”

  “Years of training.” Rocco cast a sideways look at the king and noticed a smile lifting the man’s cheeks before he added, “Diplomatic or not, it’s a sincere offer.”

  Rocco nodded. Before he could say anything further, the king said, “My son Stefano worked in Venezuela during his gap year. While there, he became involved with a young American woman. When the American discovered she was pregnant, she tried to reach him. Royal channels being what they are, she had difficulty. When Stefano’s engagement was announced soon afterward, she decided it would be best for the child to raise her on her own. She made no further attempts at contact.”

  “You’re talking about Stefano’s wife Megan and her daughter Anna.”

  “Yes. They found each other again, but nearly ten years had elapsed. Ten years where Stefano didn’t know his child and the child didn’t know him. Watching their reunion has been both painful and rewarding. Ultimately, they have found happiness and value it.”

  “I’m not a preteen girl.”

  “No, you’re not. But I value the opportunity, all the same. Perhaps more, because the entire time, I knew what I was missing.”

  A flurry of sparks rose from the fire. Justine reached forward and used a poker to shift the logs, sending another batch of sparks skyward before the flames settled again.

  “When the queen visited, she told me that your children don’t know about me. Do you plan to tell them now?”

  Carlo planted his hands on the window ledge, palms down, hands wrapped around the sill so his fingers pointed back toward himself. The motion unnerved Rocco. It was exactly the way he stood and stared out the window of his villa when he needed to mull over a design problem.

  “I told them early this evening, just before I flew here. Fabrizia and I thought that the time had come, given Teresa’s death and your request to meet.”

  It wasn’t the answer Rocco expected. “All of them?”

  “Yes. My wife and I even called Bruno home from university. The queen let the staff believe we were discussing plans for my new grandson’s christening.”

  Prince Stefano and his wife had a new baby, he remembered. “I imagine that was a rather interesting conversation.”

  “Interesting is an apt descriptor.” The king smiled. “You’re quite the diplomat.”

  Unbidden, a laugh erupted from deep within Rocco’s chest. “Touché.”

  “I told them everything, then left to fly here. I don’t know how they’ll each react in the long run, but they’re good people. Strong. Independent. I can only hope they know me well enough to…well…I don’t know. If any of them feel the need to cast blame, it will be at your mother and at me. Not you or your siblings. My guess is that they’ll view the three of you with curiosity and will understand that you’re all in this together.”

  Rocco chewed on that for a moment. “Do they want to meet us?”

  Carlo let out a sigh that sounded almost like a laugh. “They asked the same about you. I told them we’d take this one day at a time. The first step is for all of you to take the time to reflect on what you really want. No need to make rash decisions. I want all of you to have your questions answered first, and for each of you to come to grips with what you’ve learned.”

  “Sounds logical enough.”

  In front of them, Justine stood and rounded the fire pit to select another log from the bin at the side of the porch and add it to the fire.

  “You married well,” Carlo said
. “When I heard you’d married Justine Flyte, I admit, I was surprised. From what your mother told me about you, the two of you don’t seem much alike.”

  “She’s a wild child ski champ and I’m not?”

  “You’re a man of science. An engineer. Your work is indoors and cerebral. Hers is outdoors and physical.”

  “We’re both driven. Both of us want to make our mark on the world.” Rocco’s heart swelled as he watched Justine sit to the side of the pit, giving him a view of her profile in the golden firelight. “As for the rest, we balance each other.”

  “It sounds like a good match. It’s the same with me and Fabrizia. I love her more than life itself.” Carlo angled his body so he faced Rocco. “You two are separated, I understand?”

  “We were working on things when I read my mother’s papers.” Since then, Rocco had been thinking about his relationship with Justine nonstop. When they’d traveled to Baltimore, he’d told her he never wanted to lose her again. He’d told her he’d be at her events, by her side whenever she wished it. He’d meant it. But when he made those promises, he’d believed the risks were all his. Namely, that his paternity would be revealed.

  He never thought the risk would become Justine’s. Reading his mother’s papers changed that.

  Carlo straightened, then folded his arms over his chest. “Judging from the way you looked at each other when I entered, it’s apparent you love each other very much. I hope you find a way to reunite.”

  “Thank you.” A weight settled in Rocco’s chest as he watched Justine tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s going to come out, isn’t it? If not today or tomorrow, then eventually. It won’t matter if you make it back to the palace without being seen. Now that you’ve told your children—which I don’t begrudge you doing—too many people know.”

  “My family is very good at keeping their own counsel. Living in the palace, it’s a necessity.” His brows rose. “However, in this instance, I fear you may be right. It would only take one word uttered at the wrong time for questions to be raised,” the king said. “The attention would be a lot for you and your siblings to handle.”

  “I can manage.”

  “But you worry about your siblings. You especially worry about your wife.”

  Rocco could only nod as he stared out at the flames. If—when—the truth were revealed in the press, it would harm Justine, perhaps irreparably.

  After taking a long look at Justine, Carlo moved to the room’s rustic fireplace and took a seat on its edge. “People like to talk about fame. Whether that fame is positive or negative, they say it won’t change you if you resolve to stay true to yourself. But until fame happens to you, you can only look on from outside the vortex and speculate about how it affects a person who’s trapped on the inside.”

  Rocco turned his head, curious at the pensive note in the king’s voice. “Is that how you feel? Trapped?”

  “At times.” He shrugged. “Then again, I’ve been famous from the moment of my birth, so what do I know of life outside the vortex? My wife, however, wasn’t famous until our engagement was announced. Fame came fast and furious then, and her learning curve was steep. Being royal isn’t flash-in-the-pan fame. It’s international, lifelong, and life altering. It’s the type of fame that spans both politics and entertainment. The coverage—the intrusiveness of it—can be brutal.”

  “How did she adjust?”

  “I helped where I could. I also had to trust her to know her own limits, when she should try to reduce her exposure and under which circumstances she could allow herself to be vulnerable.” He glanced toward the rear windows, then looked back at Rocco. “Fabrizia and I came to the realization that life is short, and what is most important to us is to protect those we love. Namely, our children. We’ve done the best we can, but they often get themselves into trouble. We’ve told them to raise their heads and move on and to consider fame a high class problem, one that has its challenges, but that affords us the ability to do our jobs. Without a certain amount of fame, I wouldn’t hold the cachet I do when I walk into a room with the goal of convincing a business that they should establish an office in Sarcaccia. Fabrizia wouldn’t be able to raise the awareness she does for the homeless or for victims of sex crimes. Prince Stefano and his wife wouldn’t have had the ability to turn our country’s new conference center into the international draw that it is…which, in turn, benefits our tourism industry.”

  “You’re saying it’s all a matter of perspective.”

  “Most days, yes, that’s what I believe.”

  “And today?”

  He shot Rocco a wry look. “Today it’s a challenge.”

  Rocco smiled in return, despite himself. He didn’t want to like this man. The world at large adored him, but Rocco knew Carlo wasn’t all the public believed him to be. As the king himself admitted, he’d made mistakes.

  But, grudgingly, Rocco found himself intrigued by Carlo. He was a man who knew himself, who understood both his good and bad sides and knew how to put them into perspective. Regardless of what had happened between Carlo and Teresa, Carlo had accomplished a great deal in Sarcaccia. He’d improved the lives of his subjects, increasing both educational opportunities and the standard of living on the island while holding inflation in check and maintaining the country’s strong traditions. He’d expanded tourism, yet was a staunch protector of Sarcaccia’s natural beauty and fought hard to protect its wildlife and natural resources.

  After taking another look outside to ensure Justine remained comfortable, Rocco crossed the room to sit beside Carlo. A heartbeat later, an antique grandfather clock in the corner chimed the hour.

  “That’s my cue.” Carlo indicated the clock. “I’ll need to leave in the next half hour to fly back to Sarcaccia if I want to enter the palace with the least chance of being seen. Before I wish your wife a good night, is there anything else you wanted to know?”

  Rocco shook his head, regretting that their time had come to an end just as he’d started to understand Carlo. They stood, but as Rocco prepared to thank the king for making the trip to Croatia, he remembered. “Wait. There is something. Queen Fabrizia brought a necklace when she came to warn me about the Russians.”

  Carlo’s eyes lit. “Ah, yes. The star sapphire. She told me she gave it to you.”

  “It’s unbelievable. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

  The king’s deep laugh caught Rocco off guard. “You wouldn’t because it’s one of a kind. And now it’s yours.”

  “Why?”

  “It was your mother’s.” Still smiling, Carlo wandered back to the windows, glanced out at Justine, then spun to face Rocco. “After Lina and Enzo were born, I designed it with Conti & Fancetti and had it secretly delivered to Teresa. It was my way of saying goodbye to the relationship and of thanking her for bearing three wonderful children. I’d hoped she’d view it as a peace offering and would soften enough to allow me to see you again and to meet the twins, but she didn’t. She returned the necklace immediately.”

  “I don’t blame her.”

  “Neither do I,” he said. “It was the misguided gift of a young man who’d suddenly become very powerful and very, very wealthy. The sapphire had been in my family for generations and I thought that by putting it into a necklace, it could be handed down to Lina someday. I wanted her to have a tangible item that would remind her for the rest of her life that she is a Barrali. I’d hoped to give something personal to you and Enzo, as well, but with Teresa’s rejection of the necklace, that never happened.”

  Rocco moved closer to Carlo, stopping short of the windows to rest a hip against the edge of one of the upholstered chairs.

  Carlo skimmed a hand over his chin and glanced up at the ceiling, remembering. “It’s odd to think about it now. I did it out of a sense of loyalty and love for the three of you, but truly, where would Teresa have worn such a thing? Fabrizia warned me. She told me sending such a gift was ridiculous, but humored me. She understood the
intent behind it. Later, Fabrizia rightfully pointed out that the jeweler would recognize it if it were ever worn in public and photographed, so it was for the best that Teresa returned it. I put it in a secured drawer and there it remained. As you can imagine, it’s not a piece Fabrizia would choose to wear.”

  “It’s been sitting unworn all this time?”

  “My daughter-in-law Kelly wore it to a palace event recently after she found it and showed it to Massimo, but they didn’t know the history of the piece.”

  Whatever story Rocco had expected the king to tell about the necklace, that wasn’t it. He rounded the chair to retrieve Justine’s handbag from where she’d left it beside the coffee table. He withdrew the velvet box and turned to Carlo. “You know I can’t keep it, either. It must be worth millions.”

  “I doubt it’s worth millions, plural. And what am I going to do with it?” The king’s light brown eyes lit with humor. “Justine could find a place to wear it. Surely in your line of work you attend charity events to raise money for hospitals or scientific research?”

  “Frequently, yes. But this” —he extended the box to Carlo— “belongs in a museum. Or with your family.”

  Carlo shook his head and kept his arms at his side. “You are my family. I want you to have it.”

  Rocco frowned, then slowly returned the box to Justine’s handbag. “Fine. I’ll hang onto it for now, though it doesn’t feel right. If you can think of another use for it—maybe give it to your daughter Sophia or one of your other children—please let me know. I’ll get it to you right away. I know you have Kos’s contact information, but here” —Rocco reached for his wallet and withdrew one of his business cards— “this is my direct line at the villa.”

  Carlo took the card and read it before carefully tucking it into his pants pocket. To Rocco’s surprise, the king then extended a card of his own. “Call me anytime, Rocco, for any reason. I will always take the call. And if Lina and Enzo should wish to call or meet me, I’d welcome it.”