The Missing Monarch

by Rachelle Mccalla

  Thad supported her, holding her up when she felt like sagging to the ground. After the formal distance he’d kept between them, she was surprised to feel his fingers lightly rubbing her back in the soothing manner that had brought her comfort years before. But back then, he’d been easing the sting of a harsh test grade and the loss of her cat.

  The world had gotten so much more complicated since then, and she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his touch. Or maybe she had, but she’d been so angry with him, she was unwilling to admit to herself how much she missed him.

  Thad’s announcement had silenced the room, and it felt as though too many precious minutes crept by before anyone spoke.

  “I’m sorry,” Kirk said finally. “I’m so sorry. I never dreamed—”

  “We can’t go back in time and undo what’s happened.” Thad’s voice rumbled in her ear. “We have until noon on Saturday to sort it out.”

  Sniffling back her tears, Monica realized the smell of oil that had clung to him so strongly had begun to dissipate. In its place, she breathed in the old familiar scent of her husband, evoking memories she’d refused to think about since he’d left her. But now he was here, holding her, and she felt her wounded heart giving a little groan.

  “But, Thaddeus—” Stasi’s plea prompted Monica to peek out past the safe haven of Thad’s arms “—what can we do? We’ve got to get your little boy away from that horrid man.”

  “He’s not just a little boy,” Isabelle corrected her sister. “He’s a prince. Let’s not forget the reason our lives have been spared over the course of this ordeal. At various times and in various ways, Octavian considered each of us a potential avenue to power. He tried to marry me off to a puppet mogul in hopes of producing an heir. That plan would have taken months, even years to come to fruition, and now he’s holding a descendent of Lydia prisoner?”

  Levi picked up on his fiancée’s line of reasoning. “I doubt Octavian has any intention of letting Peter go free, even if we hand over the scepter. He’s far too useful to him.”

  “Worse than that.” Thad articulated the scenario he’d suggested to Monica earlier. “If we hand over the scepter, we render ourselves obsolete.”

  Alec huffed. “Worse than obsolete. We’d be the biggest threat to his power.”

  “That wicked little tyrant.” Stasi pounded her petite fist against the table. “He’s dreamed for years of knocking us all off. If we give him what he wants, he’ll kill us just to ease his frustration.” She stared at her oldest brother. “You can’t play into his plans. It won’t help anything.”

  “And yet—” Lillian Bardici cleared her throat “—we’ve got to rescue that little boy. Kidnapping is a crime. Can’t we ask Interpol to help?”

  Levi, the international law expert, shook his head. “The International Police Organization can’t interfere in political matters. They’ve got to maintain their neutrality. I’m afraid they’d only turn us down.”

  “I’ve been working with the United Nations peacekeeping team that was dispatched in the wake of the ambush,” Isabelle added. “They strictly avoid any actions that could be interpreted as taking sides. In the eyes of the world, this is a political issue. We can point to all the crimes Octavian has committed, but Octavian claims he’s been wronged, as well—that Father has reneged on the agreements between them.”

  “What about the emails you intercepted?” Stasi questioned her sister. “Don’t they prove Octavian was conspiring with Lydia’s generals?”

  “Unfortunately—” Isabelle blew out a frustrated breath “—I was able to retrieve only one week’s worth of emails. Yes, it tells us there was a conspiracy, but we don’t know how the plots began. Petrela claims he was only part of the plot because he wanted to stop Octavian.” She pointed to the general. “Any of the others could make the same claim, and we have no way of proving otherwise. You can’t arrest someone for receiving an email.”

  Alec nodded in agreement with his sister’s analysis. “There’s a chance one or more of the generals may have been acting to defend the crown—receiving the emails as a way of keeping tabs on Octavian for us, just as Petrela claims he’s been doing.” Alec’s tone, along with the sideways glance he shot the general, betrayed his underlying reluctance to believe Petrela’s claims.

  “In that case, they should have been reporting back to the crown,” Isabelle noted.

  “They may have been,” Thad acknowledged. “Father is in no position to tell us either way.”

  Lily cleared her throat. “It could take a long time to sort out everyone’s guilt and innocence. We’ve got just over a day left to rescue Peter. Let’s not let ourselves get so distracted that we lose sight of that.”

  Alec took his fiancée’s hand. “I agree. Peter must be liberated and returned to his mother. But how are we going to accomplish that?”

  Monica felt another wave of silent tears rising up as those around the table pledged their intention to free her son. Thad’s arms shifted around her, and she realized she’d gotten so caught up in the conversation, she’d forgotten how inappropriate it was for her to be so close to him. It felt so right to be in his arms again. She almost wished she could stay there, but instead she stepped away. After all, she was still angry with him for his role in her son’s capture. She’d spent the past six years resenting him for leaving her. She wasn’t ready to forget that—certainly not as long as a madman had her son.

  She swallowed back her tears as the team members struggled to find a solution to Peter’s predicament.

  “Let’s not forget who we’re dealing with,” Levi reminded everyone. “Whenever we’ve underestimated Octavian, he’s always turned out to be two steps ahead of us. Thad, you’ve said he lacks two things to accomplish his plans—your signature and the Scepter of Charlemagne.”

  Monica looked at Levi for a long moment, wondering, as she assumed everyone else was wondering, what he was getting at.

  Levi looked around the room slowly before asking, “Do we know for certain he doesn’t already have the scepter?”

  A shot of fear sizzled through her, enough to compel her to back farther away from Thad and blink up at him. He’d been the last person among them to touch the scepter, but that had been six years before.

  Everyone looked to the general.

  “Octavian kept many secrets from me,” Petrela acknowledged. “I couldn’t probe too deeply in matters beyond my jurisdiction for fear of attracting attention to myself. I’ll tell you anything I know that might help you, but I really can’t say whether he has the scepter. Octavian holds his cards very close to his chest.”

  Thad shook his head slowly. “Then we don’t know.”

  “Levi raises an excellent point,” Dom Procopio said, speaking up for the first time. “If you only have one advantage against this Octavian fellow, you ought to be certain you really have it. Otherwise you’re playing with nothing, and you’re bound to walk into a trap.”

  A murmur of agreement passed through the siblings, but Kirk balked at the idea. “Monica was safe for six years until I spoke of her,” he reminded them. “If the scepter has been safely hidden away for that long, I’m loath to uncover it now, not when Octavian’s bound to have spies and moles everywhere.” He shot a wary look at Petrela. “I’d hate to lose it simply because we were afraid to trust its hiding place.”

  Thad took a step closer to the head of the table and placed his fists on the glossy surface of the wood, leaning down slightly to meet everyone’
s eyes. “What do you think? I’ve heard both sides of the argument, and they both have valid points. Shall I uncover the scepter or keep it hidden?”

  “I think we need to pray about it before we make that decision.” Isabelle locked hands with Levi on one side of her, and Stasi on the other.

  “Yes, let’s pray,” Alec agreed, bowing his head as his fingers clasped Lillian’s hand on one side, and drew Dom Procopio’s on the other. “Will you lead the prayer, Deacon?”

  As the others clasped hands and bowed their heads around the table, Monica felt Thad’s frustration simmering beside her. She stepped forward to take Thad’s hand, but he turned away and faced the fire, his arms crossed firmly.

  The others hadn’t noticed. Their heads were bowed and their eyes closed as Monica stretched to close the gap between General Petrela and Dom, who’d already opened the prayer.

  The siblings around the table joined in, thanking God for keeping them all safe and for bringing love into their lives. They prayed for healing for their father, and begged God to especially watch over Peter, before asking God’s guidance about whether to look for the scepter.

  Thaddeus spun around and faced them all from the head of the table the moment they said “Amen.” Monica couldn’t be sure if any of them had realized he wasn’t praying with them, but his refusal to join them in prayer prickled at her. At the very least, he could have held hands and bowed his head along with them, even if he didn’t believe God was listening. If he hadn’t thought God was there, it shouldn’t have made any difference if he participated in the prayer.

  No, it was almost as though he was angry at God, rather than unbelieving.

  Before she could consider the issue, Thad cleared his throat. “It seems to me the risks of fetching the scepter are outweighed by the benefits. We need it by tomorrow anyway, so there’s no sense putting off going after it. But in order to reduce the odds of detection, I’ll retrieve it by myself.”

  “Right now?” Alec asked.

  “I’ll wait until dark. Right now, I strongly feel I ought to visit our mother. She’s at Father’s bedside at the hospital?” Thad seemed to be in a hurry to end the meeting. Monica wondered if the prayer had made him that uncomfortable.

  “Yes. I can take you there,” Stasi offered.

  “I’d appreciate that. I’ll freshen up and change clothes first. Can I meet you in the foyer?” He shot a glance at Petrela, as though challenging him to try and stop him, or to tie him up like an animal again.

  The general simply winked.

  Monica couldn’t help but wonder whose side the man was really on. Could they trust him? Did they have any choice? With just shy of a day remaining before Octavian expected the scepter, they had to focus on the mission before them—and just be grateful Petrela was letting them go about their business unfettered.

  Thad and Stasi set a time, and then Isabelle offered to take Monica to the suite that had been prepared for her. Monica thanked her and followed, making note of the time Thad had planned to meet Stasi for the trip to the hospital. He hadn’t invited her, but she still hoped to tag along. She’d never been introduced to her mother-in-law, and if there was any chance Thad was planning to break the news to Queen Elaine that she had a grandson, Monica wanted to be there.

  * * *

  Thad wasn’t surprised to see Monica already waiting in the foyer as he made his way across the second-floor hall toward the stairs. She’d obviously taken advantage of the opportunity to freshen up and had her shoulder-length hair pulled up in front, draping down in back with thick curls that caught the light of the crystals from the chandelier above. Sunlight splashed across her as she turned to face him, and he saw that the blouse she wore, which had looked plain from the back, had a wide-collared neckline and a tie belt, accentuating her hourglass figure.

  He nearly missed the next step, but he caught himself with his hand on the rail, and recovered fully by the time he reached her level. “You look—” He stopped himself before he could compliment her. Was it playing into Octavian’s plans to admit the woman who’d caught his eye years before could still turn his head? He wanted to carry her off and make up for the long years they’d been apart. But Monica had made it clear that she was angry with him. Hopelessness clung to his soul.

  “—refreshed,” he finished.

  The bright smile that had leaped to her lips when he started the sentence faded quickly at his disappointing words. Guilt stabbed him. She looked far more than refreshed. She was the embodiment of his every dream, the balm for his hurting soul, the paradise at the end of his long journey. And if he intended to defeat Octavian, she was absolutely off-limits.

  Thad swallowed back the guilty feeling. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

  “Any sign of the general?”

  “He was talking to his guards earlier—my impression was that he was instructing them to give us a longer leash, so to speak. And I hope he’s asked them not to report to Octavian directly.”

  “That would be a relief. What do you think of his claim that he’s really on our side?” Thad met Monica’s eyes, intending only to gauge what she thought of the general. But when she looked up at him through her thick eyelashes, he felt his hardened heart swell with longing, and he was tempted to pull her into his arms again, to feel the press of her lips against his.

  But that would be foolishness.

  “I’d love to believe him, but it sounds too good to be true, don’t you think? Besides, if he’s been working on our side, he could have mentioned it sooner. It sounds too convenient to me.”

  Thad nodded. Her ideas aligned with his. “He knows he’s outnumbered. He’s made a handy excuse. I won’t challenge him as long as he’s willing to let us move about freely—but I won’t trust him, either.”

  Footsteps pattered above them and he turned, expecting Stasi, in time to see Isabelle instead.

  “Oh, good, I caught you in time.” Isabelle hurried down the stairs. “You can’t go out the front door.”

  “Why not?” Thad felt miffed at her suggestion. He barely had a day left—he didn’t want to waste single minute with foolishness. “It’s the most direct route.”

  “That’s the door the paparazzi tend to monitor. We’re very fortunate they haven’t gotten wind of your return already. The last thing we need is a media frenzy to deal with.”

  Thad realized what his sister was suggesting. As a popular princess, Isabelle had long been plagued by the media, and she had understood them as well as anyone. “We’ll have to sneak out the back way.”

  Isabelle agreed. “We should be able to dodge them while you’re here, since they aren’t expecting you and most of them assume you’re long dead. But eventually, we’ll have to hold a press conference and announce your return.”

  “Not until this mess with Octavian is sorted out.” For all Thad knew, he’d end up in hiding once again—and it would be a thousand times simpler to hide if no one realized he’d ever returned.

  “Of course, not until then. We don’t have time to deal with it right now. There’s Stasi.” She nodded at her sister, who was entering on Kirk’s arm.

  “Thanks, Isabelle.” Thad turned and offered her a small smile—the most he could manage after so many years out of the practice.

  “No problem. Get my nephew back.” His sister winked.

  Thad hurried to keep up with Stasi, who had Monica by the arm, and rattled off the names of rooms as though she was leading a whirlwind tour. “The north dining
room has secret passages leading to the kitchen and the garden.”

  “You don’t need to tell her about the secret passages,” Thad chided his little sister. “That knowledge is privy only to the royal family.”

  “She’s part of the royal family,” Stasi challenged him.

  Thad wanted to disagree with her on that point, but he couldn’t think of a valid argument. They quickly reached the back exit, where Kirk and Stasi trotted over to the royal garages.

  “Do we need to call a driver?” Thad noticed all the keys were locked in a glass cabinet.

  “I’ve got it.” Kirk pressed his thumb against the touch pad and pulled out a set of keys. “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves.” He led them to a black Ford Focus, which Thad had noticed earlier was one of the most ubiquitous cars on the Lydian streets. “Hop in.”

  Thad circled around to the front passenger’s side, but Stasi cut him off.

  “I don’t think so. The missing monarch is not allowed to sit in the front seat where anyone might see him. That’s why we have tinted windows in back.” She opened the rear door and gestured for him to climb in.

  Thad squeezed his large frame into the compact backseat. He tried not to notice how close he was to Monica or the way their fingers tangled as they searched for the clasps to their seat belts. He tried not to think about the bare spot on her ring finger where she’d once worn his wedding band. But being back in Lydia and being close to her made it impossible to fight the joy he felt marrying her.

  Fortunately, he didn’t have long to think about the distracting proximity to his wife. A moment after Kirk zipped through the back gates, two cars emerged from near the bushes and took to the street directly behind them. Thad caught just a glimpse of one leering driver before the glare of the sun blocked his view.