Chapter Twenty-Two
Insidious
* * *
Everything I have known my life to be is a lie.
* * *
I hunted father down at Ahtissari Castle after parting ways with Chey and Mattias once we reached Latvala. The bastard king had thought to thwart me by not being present in the throne room when I arrived, but I would not be dissuaded from our meeting. I stalked upstairs to his private quarters, brushed aside his security, and entered his domain.
* * *
I found Aksel dressed in a robe, smoking his beloved pipe.
* * *
Again, he attempted to delay our meeting and tried to tell me he wasn’t feeling well. He said only that he had drawn up my exile paperwork and that I would have to wait for anything else.
* * *
I was having none of it. He seemed just fine to me. I told him he would tell me now why he’d attacked me in Dubai and why he was intent on exile. I know the majority of the reason, but I wanted to hear it from his own mouth. I reminded him of my ability to take him to court, to strip him of the throne.
* * *
He faced off against me, furious that I thought to order him around, and said that my words were a traitor’s words. That, for anyone else, the crime would be punishable by death.
* * *
I also reminded him that I had seen the blood on his own hands; that he was a man of sin and we both knew it. Never have I written or spoken about the incident I came upon when I was thirteen in the dungeons of the castle. Him with a bloody knife in his hand and a dead maid at his feet. I have kept that secret, will keep that secret—unless he forces me otherwise. I mentioned it to him, said that I could let his little accident slip into everyday conversation.
* * *
He struck me with the back of his hand and said no one would ever believe me.
* * *
So I threatened to go dig up her bones. I knew where he’d buried her.
* * *
That’s when my father cackled like a hyena, a very disturbing sound I won’t soon forget. In that moment, I was positive Aksel was much more unhinged than I originally thought.
* * *
He told me he’d scattered the woman’s bones everywhere; that I would never find her.
* * *
And I told him that I remembered too many details, that people would believe a young boy’s account of murder.
* * *
Then my father told me, on the tail end of another unsettling cackle, that the woman was no simple maid—but my mother. It wasn’t a tryst I’d caught them in, but him ending the life of a woman whose only sin was to want to spend more time with her son.
* * *
I didn’t believe him. I accused him of lying.
* * *
He recited the tale of how Helina had faked the pregnancy; that the queen went along with it because she had no other choice. Aksel mentioned Helina going into seclusion around the time of my birth so that the maid’s child could be secreted through the hallways into the queen’s room.
* * *
Helina raised me as her own under pressure (and probably threats) from Aksel.
* * *
Impossible. I wanted proof, told him I intended to find the nurses who’d birthed me. Those kinds of secrets have a way of coming out eventually. Now was the time.
* * *
They’re dead, of course. Aksel seemed gleeful to let me know about their ‘accidents’ and did not exactly hide his role in their demise. He said that, if pressed, Helina would confess the truth if I needed more proof.
* * *
I demanded it. I don’t believe him, can’t believe him, because the truth is too terrible to contemplate.
* * *
Aksel insisted I come back tomorrow, that he might have something to convince me I am not the true heir to the Latvalan throne.
* * *
He’s stalling, but for what reason, I cannot fathom.
* * *
I left him there with his pipe and his drink, too angry and conflicted to fight any longer.
* * *
He leaves me no choice but to return for whatever proof he has in his arsenal.
* * *
Sander
* * *
Restless
* * *
I can’t sleep. I’m pacing in the little cabin Mattias secured for Chey, too agitated to get any rest. I’ll have to at some point to be fresh for the confrontation tomorrow. Right now I can’t shut my mind down.
* * *
While she sleeps, I’m watching the night and thinking of my father’s betrayal. His omission, his deceit. I’m thinking of how he threw my annulment with Valentina in my face, suggesting that if I demand my right to the throne I’m a hypocrite because I would still be putting a bastard in to rule over the country.
* * *
Because that’s what this makes me, if it’s true. A bastard.
* * *
I’m sure my father knew it would eat at me, make me question my right as heir. What happened with Valentina is not the same—at least I have Ahtissari blood running through my veins. Her child is another man’s seed altogether.
* * *
Yet my conflict remains.
* * *
Technically, Mattias should inherit the throne. He is the true and rightful heir. Except I have been groomed for this role my whole life. It’s all I know, all I’ve breathed and dreamed of since childhood. How does a man go against his natural instinct? I love my land, my people. I have embraced this role wholeheartedly and I have always believed I will bring honor to the title of king.
* * *
If I exile myself, Aksel is off the hook for everything. He will play up his sorrow and regret while gloating behind the scenes as he officially names Mattias the new heir. Paavo was never a good choice, only someone to be used and then discarded when his usefulness was over. Father is excellent at that.
* * *
I find this an incredible, impossible, and demoralizing decision to make.
* * *
Sander
* * *
The Photograph
* * *
Aksel was right, as much as I hate to admit it. He did have proof that convinced me I am not Helina’s son. Helina herself told me so to my face, but it was the photograph she produced which was the evidence that swayed me.
* * *
There in black and white was a woman who I resembled too much to be coincidence. We have the same brow, same profile. The woman can be none other than my biological mother. Her name was Siona and I remember her well. To know that Aksel killed her, murdered her because she simply wanted me to know who she was, is beyond my comprehension. That he scattered her bones after he initially buried her to hide the proof of his actions infuriates me. My real mother has not had a proper ceremony, will never have a true resting place because her bones litter the woods.
* * *
Someday I will at least provide her with a plot and a headstone. She deserves that.
* * *
Now I have to contend with the knowledge that I am not legally supposed to sit on the throne of Latvala, while everything in me insists I stay and fight.
* * *
– S
Chapter Twenty-Three
Exile
* * *
I did not relinquish my birthright in a meek and obedient manner, but with my chin held high and defiance in my eyes. I let Aksel see that I am not cowed by my self-imposed exile; rather, I wanted him to believe that I was ready to embrace my decision and live with it the best I can. I wanted him to think I had chosen the honorable route of removing my bastard self from the line of succession.
* * *
Despite what I thought was a decent acting job, Aksel still insisted on sending two of his personal guard with me on the plane to the Caribbean. They are here now, keeping a close eye on me as if I might try to escape from thirty thousand feet.
* * *
&nb
sp; It will make my plans a little more difficult after we land on Barbados, but not impossible.
* * *
Sander, Exiled Prince
* * *
Subterfuge
* * *
The winner of a war is often the one who executes the best battle strategy. Sometimes it works exactly the way you want it to, sometimes it doesn’t.
* * *
The private jet used to transport me to the island is being flown by a pilot I have known for the better part of my life. I managed to have a word with him before the jet touched down on the tarmac in Barbados, and he agreed to join my cause when I explained what I needed him to do.
* * *
Once our entourage arrived at the compound where I am supposed to live out the rest of my life, I secluded myself in the master suite with instructions to Aksel’s guard that I didn’t want to be bothered.
* * *
Then I snuck out the back with only two of my own security team and we returned to the private airstrip. The pilot was ready and waiting and got us into the air without delay. We are on our way to Latvala, because I am in no way relinquishing my spot in the line of succession. I just want Aksel to think so. I need him to be distracted, his thoughts turned elsewhere.
* * *
I expect to have a full day’s head start before Aksel’s guards on Barbados become suspicious and demand to see me in person. Maybe longer if the staff member I left behind continues to pretend I am still on the premises. I figured it wouldn’t be unusual for me to have my own man bringing me breakfast and running interference, negating contact with the guards.
* * *
The longer I have in Latvala without anyone knowing I’m there, the better.
* * *
An hour ago, Mattias and Chey contacted me via video conference and told me the most amazing story. If I hadn’t seen pictures, I’m not sure I would have believed it’s true. Yet the more I think about it, the more everything falls into place.
* * *
Chey discovered, by accident, a man who very much resembles me. Except he is deformed in the face and has black hair. But we have the same shaped features and the same jaw. Mattias believes, after considerable thought, that Helina must have been pregnant at the same time as my mother, and that when they realized Helina’s child was compromised, brought me in as heir. They hid this other man away in the east woods, which also explains why that part of the forest has always been off limits.
* * *
No one wanted us to find him, to know he existed.
* * *
If that’s not the height of cruelty, I don’t know what is. Not for our sake, but for this strange man. My half brother, if we’re guessing right.
* * *
I have located the building I believe this man is staying in, and plan to pay it a visit.
* * *
Chey wanted to go back herself to collect DNA evidence, but I absolutely forbade it. The very last thing I need is to arrive and find she’s been arrested. Or worse. Things did not end well between us on the conference call, but in this one circumstance, I’m adamant.
* * *
There is much to think about and consider if this man is indeed of our blood.
* * *
Sander, Prince of Latvala
* * *
A Difficult Goodbye
* * *
It has been a while since I’ve written here.
* * *
The grieving process hinders my ability to pen anything coherent, and I have definitely been grieving.
* * *
I guess I should go back to my arrival in Latvala. Everything went as planned. No one knew I’d snuck into the country except Mattias. In the interim, I found out that Chey had disregarded my orders not to try and get the DNA sample. She borrowed a car and went right back to the woods, which was where I found her after we’d followed the GPS and wound up at the building where my half brother was being held. Laur, my brother, had been pursuing Chey into the basement for no other reason than he was curious at her trespassing. We spoke, and I found Laur to be quietly intelligent and kind.
* * *
Because I wanted answers, as did Laur, we invited him up to Mattias’s holding later in the week. It was risky and we all knew it. Laur and everyone else in that house were under constant guard. But if we didn’t take the chance, when else could we? This was a perfect opportunity for us to meet and bond. Laur played violin, as I do, and I thought it would help us get to know one another if we played together.
* * *
Little did I know it would be the first and last time.
* * *
Chey and I continued to argue over the next two days, creating a new kind of tension between us. We were barely speaking when Laur arrived later that evening. We chose the middle of the night for the visit to help reduce the risk of guards seeing Laur leave the property.
* * *
The hours we spent together that night were magical. Laur was a joy to be around and I couldn’t fathom why he had been locked away like an animal. We gleaned a lot of information from him and gave some in return. Then we made sure to get him back home before someone noticed him missing. After he left, Chey and I attempted to talk, to reconcile our differences. We parted with curses and slamming doors, and I wound up leaving Mattias’s compound without clearing the air, an act I regret. My only excuse was that time wasn’t on our side. I had to leave, so I did.
* * *
Mattias called before I got too far with news that Laur thought the guards at the manor were onto him, so all our plans changed. I met up with Mattias and what extra security we could muster, leaving Chey with only two men to protect her. I didn’t like it at all, but taking her with us was more dangerous than leaving her there. One of the guards informed us before we left that Aksel had made a public announcement of my self-imposed exile, and that he had once more reinstated Paavo as official heir to the throne.
* * *
Mattias and I knew then that our father was onto us. Had figured out that Mattias had been helping me all along. Aksel knew we’d discovered the manor. My brother and I both decided Aksel was about to take action against a house full of innocents, so we raced through the darkness, desperate to get there in time. What we found at the manor was a bashed-in front gate and empty rooms inside.
* * *
Someone had hurriedly evacuated every last person.
* * *
I cannot express how sick I felt in that moment. All I could think about were hastily dug ditches and bodies thrown in. My father had committed murder once—perhaps more than once—and I decided he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. Hard on the heels of that revelation, Mattias and I began to worry that Aksel had also pinpointed Mattias’s house as a strike point.
* * *
And Chey was there alone with two guards. Not nearly enough manpower to resist a small army. The entire hair-raising ride through the east woods back to Mattias’s holding was probably the longest of my life. We arrived to see strange vehicles at the gate, parked at haphazard angles.
* * *
Aksel’s assassins.
* * *
We heard gunshots even as we stormed the door, and all I could think was that we were too late. I’d left Chey without adequate protection and now she was caught in the middle of a shootout. Maybe dead.
* * *
It is not in my nature to shut down in the midst of a fight. I used the adrenaline and momentum to take me upstairs, where I happened to see Chey emerging from an opposite stairwell, running for her life.
* * *
There was only time to feel a brief blitz of relief before we realized that Laur was down, shot by an assailant. We rushed back down the stairs but we were too late.
* * *
My half brother, violin player, gentle giant, was dead.
* * *
A Surprising Twist
* * *
That night, the night Aksel sent assassins to kill
his own child, we didn’t have long to grieve. Mattias called us down to the living room to a scene unfolding on television. Thousands of Latvalan citizens had taken to the streets in protest at my exile. Not just at the family seat, but across the entire country.
Memoirs of a King Page 7