Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets)

by C. L. Stockton

  My voice lowered. “I suppose this is another thing we will discuss later.”

  At normal volume, he replied, “We can discuss it now. My mother may have valuable insight into the problem regarding your father.” His next comment was addressed to his mother. “Her father is most likely dead. Tell her how foolish it is to leave for Sal de Mar when there is nothing there for her.”

  “There is no reason to be nasty.” I answered before Queen Cassandra could even open her mouth. Just because my father hadn’t met us in Lisbon did not make him dead.

  “I am not being nasty.” He frowned at me. “If my mother had suggested you stay instead of me, would you have accepted?”

  “Of course not. I want to return home.” Or find the location on the map. The details of my father’s work tantalized me. If this map held the answers, I would find them.

  “What we want is not always good for us.”

  “And staying here is good for me?” I snorted. Then remembered I was arguing with the crown prince in front of the reigning queen. Not exactly the best first impression to leave. “I apologize, Your Majesty, for my lack of manners. I am tired from our journey.”

  Before his mother could do anything other than nod, Colton interjected, “And you do not wish to see her hungry.”

  On the verge of swatting him on the arm, my attention was completely claimed by the cart and the delicious smells coming from it as Meg returned with dinner. My mouth watered as the maid removed the covers and left the cart between Colton and I.

  I barely glanced up once I picked up my fork. Roast pheasant, potatoes, corn and bread and the process of consuming as much as I could held my complete attention for the next ten minutes. I was aware Colton conversed with his mother, but it hardly concerned me. Let him make decisions. I would unwind them later.

  When I came up for air, I found two pairs of blue eyes fastened on me. Too tired for embarrassment, I replaced my fork with a slight smile. “Please accept my apologies for being such a poor dinner guest. It has been a while since I’ve sat down to a meal.” I fixed Colton with a pointed stare.

  “I begin to believe my son has treated you rather poorly.” It was Queen Cassandra’s turn to stare disapprovingly at Colton. “What have you done to the poor girl?”

  “I shall leave Cadrian to supply the details. Father is expecting me.” He got to his feet. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed his hand.

  He appeared as surprised as I. Blushing the color of a ripe apple, I attempted to drop his hand only Colton didn’t release me. “You will be perfectly safe with my mother. I will see you tomorrow at breakfast.” Bowing to kiss the back of my hand, he released me and turned to his mother.

  Queen Cassandra waited while Colton kissed her cheek and showed himself out before prompting, ”He’s gone. Now I insist you tell me the full story.”

  “There isn’t much to tell,” I parried. “My home was attacked, I found Prince Sorin while attempting to flee, and he decided to bring me home to await confirmation of my father's whereabouts.” I refused to entertain the idea they might be dead.

  Her blue eyes, so like Colton’s, flickered over my face. “Do you continue your father’s work?”

  “No.” Again I wondered what she knew about my father.

  “Then you are very welcome.” A smile curved her lips. “I look forward to watching Sorin fall a peg or two.”

  “If anyone needs it, he does.”

  She laughed. “You are upset with him. Why?”

  “Assorted reasons.” I waved a hand negligently in the air. I was unused to confiding in anyone, preferring to keep my own counsel.

  “I only want one.” I had the feeling nobody denied Queen Cassandra when she smiled like that.

  I cast around for the easiest explanation. “He lied about his name. I had no idea he was Prince Sorin until oh, half an hour ago.”

  “Many girls have chased him for his title. He’s become very bitter about it.” She sighed. “What name did he give you?”

  “Lucas Colton. That’s not even close to Sorin!” I folded arms across my chest in annoyance.

  Cassandra only patted my hand.

  “I can see you’re tired. I’ll ring for someone to show you to your room. We’ll talk in the morning.” Cassandra crossed to the bell pull. Almost instantly, a maid appeared in the drawing room. “Cadrian, this is Maura. She will show you upstairs.”

  We said our goodbyes and I followed Maura from the room. We backtracked down the hallway until we reached the staircase and I was led to a third floor suite of rooms. A huge bed took up much of one wall and the matching furniture filled out the corners but nothing could disguise the pure vastness of the room. The room was nearly as big as our drawing room at home.

  Another door led to a private sitting room but I was more interested in the bathroom though yet another door. A folding screen partitioned the toilet (Indoor plumbing! I nearly sobbed) from the tub and I washed my hands and face before returning to the bedroom, having heard what sounded like a door close a few minutes before. Maura, probably, with a fresh set of clothes.

  Colton sat in an armchair before the fireplace. He watched the flames, but turned when he heard my footsteps. The firelight raised answering highlights in his blonde hair and beard, but they couldn’t disguise the weariness of his face.

  “I thought you were meeting with your father.” I was tired of yelling at him, so I sat on the bed.

  “I already have.” He regarded my stony face. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”

  “You don’t mean it.” I rubbed my still damp face. “You lied to me. Again. I hardly know what is true and what you’ve made up to keep me off balance.”

  “You cannot play the honesty card when you have been less than truthful yourself. If anything, we have evened the score.” His jaw firmed. “Most girls would be thrilled to learn they’d been with a prince for nearly a week.”

  “Be still my heart. A real live prince! I cannot wait to tell all my friends!” I fluttered my eyelashes theatrically.

  “If you even have any.”

  “I have more than you.”

  “Hardly.”

  “I meant more real friends, and not people fawning over my title.” Sensing I’d hit a soft spot, I winced. Hadn’t his mother told me how sensitive he was about his title? “I’m sorry.”

  “Why? You spoke the truth.” His tone was emotionless. “People can be disgustingly mendacious.”

  Bringing us back to the subject of honesty. “Tell me your real name.”

  After a moment during which he skewered me with his eyes, he answered. “My full name is Sorin Lucas Anthony Colton North, Crown Prince of Goran.”

  “I suppose I should be comforted it was not a complete fabrication.” I shook my head at him. The topic of his status was still too new and sensitive to discuss. Maybe later, when I was calmer. “You are a prince. Why are you running about the countryside seeking answers about my father?” My mind began spinning feverishly. What was Colton’s interest in my father? Did he have something to do with the Norths?

  “My father believes a prince should have firsthand knowledge of his country and his subjects.” His tone was lofty. I attempted to read his eyes, only he’d returned to gazing at the fire.

  “But that’s not the reason you came to see my father.” I leaned against the bedpost. “Everyone keeps mentioning my father’s work. How does it affect the Norths?”

  Without looking from the flames, he answered, “It appears I have underestimated you.”

  “Which is not an answer.”

  “I know.”

  “Why can’t you tell me about my father?”

  “Because I’d prefer you remain alive.”

  “Every time you say that, I become that much more furious with you,” I said as sweetly as possible. “By the time we say goodbye, I will have most likely murdered you.”

  “Then you cannot say goodbye.”

  “Colton—“

  “Sorin,” he co
rrected.

  “If you do not tell me about my father, my head is going to explode.” Or I’d murder him. I hadn’t decided which it would be.

  “All the more reason to tell you nothing.” Seeing my already furious face darken further, he added, “Cadrian, the case is still open. I can’t tell you anything until it’s all over, and even then, I am disinclined to reveal anything. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

  I took a deep breath and told myself throwing a heavy object at his head would not help matters. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “You have nowhere else to go.”

  “I have family in Chester!”

  “Who may very well be involved with your father.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that.

  “If you go back to them and it turns out they’re working for your father, it will be seen as a defection.” He leaned forward. “I cannot protect you once you leave these walls.”

  “Protect me from whom?”

  “People you would be wise to steer clear of.” Colton sat back deeper in his chair, his head resting against the high back. From my position on the bed, I saw only his profile.

  “This, this is why I hate you.” Of all the things I felt for Colton, anger was the only one I could freely express.

  “If hating me keeps you alive, I’ll gladly take the exchange.”

  “Nobody wants to be hated,” I scoffed.

  “I don’t. At least not by you.” Sensing his eyes on me, I looked up. His eyes were bright, burning with an emotion I’d only glimpsed during our trip, and then it had quickly been banked before I could identify it.

  “What? What is it you want from me?” The question was between us before I could stop myself.

  “I am not certain who my answer will frighten more, me or you.” His laugh was derisive.

  “No.” I held up my hand when he would have continued. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Not as long as my father is between us.”

  “Which could be longer than I am willing to wait.” The fire in his eyes was quickly banked.

  “I never asked you to wait.” I wasn’t quite certain what we were talking about, but it was more than my father. It was about Colton and I; something better left a mystery.

  “I never intended to.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Explain.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You told me you didn’t want to hear anything more.”

  I hated when he took the upper hand in our arguments. “You are impossible.”

  “So I’ve been told.” His sapphire eyes gleamed, and a corner of his mouth started upward but abruptly smoothed back into a straight line when I frowned at him.

  Time to go back to the original point. “Tell me how my father is involved with your family.”

  It was his turn to sigh. “I never said he was.”

  “You also never said he wasn’t. Which is it?”

  “Sweetheart, I am not at liberty to discuss your father with you. Suffice it to say, he is safe.” His tone flattened over the last word, alerting me something was wrong.

  “Do you know where he is?” If he said yes, I would have to murder him.

  “Generally speaking, no.”

  “’Generally speaking’?” I gave him a look. “I have no idea what that means.”

  “Your father is currently out of reach.”

  When he didn’t continue, I made a noise of frustration. “You cannot say something like that and expect me not to demand an explanation.”

  “I will say no more on the subject.” His tone was final.

  Luckily, I was not dissuaded. “Either tell me where my father is or leave.”

  “No.”

  “You cannot refuse an ultimatum.”

  “I can.”

  I pointed to the door. “I want you to go.”

  “I am not ready to leave just yet.”

  “This is my room. I don’t want you here.”

  “This is my palace and I want to be here.”

  How did one argue with that? “Technically, it’s your father’s.”

  “Details.” He regarded me carefully. “Most girls like the palace.”

  “Do you bring so many back, then?” I widened my eyes at him.

  He smiled. “Jealous?”

  That was a topic I didn’t want to discuss now. Or ever. “Please go. I am too tired to argue.”

  “That has never stopped you before.” If anything, he seemed to set his feet more firmly on the ground. His eyes were a warm touch on my cheek. “Leave your father with me, sweetheart. No good will come of your involvement.”

  My mind assimilated the words instantly. “Does this mean you have him? Here?”

  His jaw firmed. He gave a quick bow in my direction. “I believe it is time for me to leave. Good night.”

  “Stop right there!” I was across the room tugging at his elbow before I remembered telling my feet to move. “If my father is here, you owe it to me to tell me.”

  He looked down his nose at my hand on his arm. “I owe you nothing.”

  Abruptly I reached the end of my patience. “I wish I’d never met you! All you’ve brought me is trouble!” I had gone too far. I saw it in the way his blue eyes frosted. Slowly, almost as if he were too angry for fast movement, he removed my hand from his arm. “You are upset. I should go.”

  “Yes.” I turned my head away, refusing to so much as look until I heard the door close.

  Stunned, I stared at the deep white rug on the floor. What just happened? Was my father here, in the palace? I imagine this place had a dungeon or a place to detain the bad guys. I had to find him. Where did I start? I looked longingly at the door to the bathroom, where the tub waited. No. My own comfort would have to wait until after I found him. If there was even a chance my father was here, I had to look for him.

  He must really be working on something sensitive involving the Norths if they threw him in prison. I wondered what he’d planned. Obviously the plot hadn’t worked as my father disappeared, leaving everyone, including the Norths, searching for him. What was important enough to actually frighten the royal family into imprisoning my father? Was he blackmailing them? If so, what was the big secret?

  As for Colton, I refused to spare a thought for what might have been an almost declaration of his feelings for me. I snorted. More likely, he’d thrown the vague sentences about our relationship in the conversation to knock me off the scent of my father. No. I had no time to think of him as anything other than an obstacle between my father and I.

  A slight knock came at the door. I called a summons, praying it wasn’t Colton. After what we’d said, we both needed time for our tempers to cool.

  Entering, Maura curtseyed, careful not to drop any of the clothes in her arms.

  “Begging your pardon, miss, but Her Majesty wanted you to have a few of her old clothes until you can be fitted for new ones.” Maura lifted her arms to show me the clothes.

  Old indeed. I saw the luxurious satin and velvet cloth, and wondered if they’d ever been worn. Must be nice to be the queen. I wasn’t at all certain they’d fit, as I was quite a bit taller than Queen Cassandra, but I was willing to put anything on.

  Maura’s bustle was welcome in the sudden stillness of my room. It was as if my argument with Colton sucked all the energy from me. Finished hanging the clothes in the closet, Maura held up an exquisitely embroidered lace nightdress.

  “Do you need help preparing for bed?”

  “No, thank you. I will ring if I require anything further.” The only thing I required at the moment was finding my father.

  “As you wish. Good night, miss.” Maura curtsied, and left me to my thoughts.

  None of which were pleasant. I’d been hammered with surprise after surprise and now simply felt apathetic. My mind was spinning so fast, I didn’t even know what I was thinking. The one constant refrain was my
father. I had to find him.

  But after a bath, I decided. My skin was coated with all kinds of dirt and tree sap and my hair hung in clumps. Besides, if my father was here, an hour wouldn’t mean the difference between his life and death. He was apparently a very valuable commodity.

  The water was gloriously hot when I turned the taps. Within minutes I was submerged to my neck in rose scented water. Along with bath salts, soap, and towels, I had everything I needed for a satisfying bath.

  Feeling strangely restless after changing into a borrowed cotton dress and requisite under garments, I began pacing my room. Though I was tired, my bath restored my alertness. I wanted answers. I wanted a resolution to my argument with Colton.

  Yes. He was the problem. It all came back to him and what he refused to tell me about my father. With a single sentence, he could banish all my fears about what he’d been working on, what he’d done to earn such hatred from the people we’d met. Plus, if my father was imprisoned in the dungeons, he could reunite us. But no. Colton persisted in keeping secrets.

  Obviously my father’s work was very important to the Norths. What was it? What instilled enough fear in them to risk the life of the heir to the throne by sending him to meet with my father? Not that Father was a cold blooded murdered, at least I didn’t think he was, but perhaps he was. This trip was showing me how little I knew of my father as well as the man who’d risked his life to save mine (not that his had been in any danger all along but still, his willingness to sacrifice himself for me went beyond the call of duty).

  This would be settled tonight. I would find Colton and demand he tell me if my father was here. If he refused to tell me, I would find a way to convince him to talk. I could always break a finger, but he would never sit still for that. I’d need to disable him. Perhaps I should bring along something heavy from my room and cosh him over the head if he was difficult.

  Who was I kidding? Colton was furious at me for saying I wished I’d never met him. I’d seen his eyes. Of anything I might have said in that situation, I picked the one thing designed specifically to wound. It might not have been all roses, and I might wish a lot of things gone, but not Colton.

  This rift in my relationship with Colton was nearly as nagging to my brain as the knowledge my father might be close. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep without speaking to Colton again, I collected a shawl from the closet, and opened the door to the hall. I wasn’t quite certain where he would be, but the stairs were central to the palace. I would have to check the common rooms of the house. I couldn’t go room to room for fear of what I might find.