Bastian

by Piper Collins

  “I love you, Father,” I said in conclusion, stepping back.

  A few beats passed. Mother looked at me, a sad, tearful smile on her pretty features. “It appears your father prepared you better than you imagined.”

  I gave her a quizzical look. “Mother?”

  “Everything you just said sounded so much like him.” She lovingly leaned over him and kissed his forehead. I don’t know what she whispered to him, but it was something meant for only the two of them, not my ears.

  Then, she turned to face me and bowed. “Long live King Bastian.”

  Chapter 15

  Alana

  Things were happening fast. Bastian was pulled in nineteen different directions and needed by everyone for a multitude of reasons, naturally.

  Being royal didn’t exclude one from devastation, heartbreak or grief. And I was worried for him and the queen. I doubted either of them had a chance to properly mourn.

  And to be honest, I didn’t really know if they had or not. I’d seen very little of Bastian over the last few days, and spoken with him even less. It was hard not to take the time apart personally.

  I knew he was needed, the transition into his new role was of paramount precedence to the country, and he was still a son at the end of the day.

  But I continued reaching out to him, wanting him to know that not only was I still there, but I was there to support him in any way I could. Which felt dismal at the moment.

  Our communications had dwindled down to a series of shortened texts late at night when he finally had a moment to himself, but I was honestly waiting for the day when they would stop altogether.

  I selfishly wondered if I fit into his life anymore. I wanted nothing more than to be there for him, to offer him comfort when he needed it most, but as of now, he was staying at the castle until further notice and the hour-plus commute wasn’t conducive to late night trysts, nor was it appropriate.

  The news had broken of our late king’s death and the country was in a state of mourning.

  Flags countrywide were at half mast, Bastian had given his first address as king the evening the announcement was made, and the streets in downtown Slaždin were already preparing for the funerary procession with erected bleacher seating in place.

  Arrangements for several diplomats and even more heads of state were being made, all to descend upon Devmont Castle by the end of the week.

  I couldn’t imagine being in the spotlight at a time like that, unable to mourn in private. Sure, Bastian had always known this day would come, but like all of us, it was expected after King Arik had lived a long and full life.

  The investigation into the accident was still underway. Forensic analysis was still determining details like ballistics, an autopsy was being performed, and the authorities were corroborating stories. And though they’d have answers, I wasn’t entirely sure it would bring either him or his mother peace at this point.

  I was getting ready for bed when my phone rang. ‘Pompous Prince’ illuminated the screen and for a split second, I longed for the days—a week ago—when that name was still relevant and our flirting took center stage. Lives could be altered in a split second, and I felt the repercussions to that statement fully.

  “Hi, you,” I said. As much as I wanted to ask how he was and if he was alright, it was absurd. Of course, he wasn’t, and adding more salt to the wound was not what I intended.

  “Hey,” he sighed, sounding exhausted and spent. “How are you, love? I’ve missed you.”

  That made my heart soar. It was good to hear and made me smile.

  “I’ve missed you more,” I said, knowing how cheesy I sounded. “I’ve been alright. Is there anything I can do for you?” I sat on the bed, pulling my foot under my crossed leg and giving him my undivided attention. It was late, but if he’d ask me to, I’d drive all night to be with him, even if he just needed a hug.

  He exhaled and I pictured him running his hand through his hair as he paced. “The receptions begin on Friday, and hundreds of people will be filing in and out. Will you come? Say you’ll be here. Please.” He sounded desperate and it broke my heart.

  “Of course. Anything you need, Bastian, I’m here,” I told him firmly. “You do know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Listen, I have to run, but I’ll send Henri for you on Friday, alright?”

  “I’ll be ready. I’ve already called work and they said to take as much time as I needed. Bastian?” I asked before we said our goodbyes.

  “Hmm?”

  “I love you. Goodnight.”

  “Love you too. Sleep well,” he replied, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be sleeping well at all.

  The reception was somehow easier than when I attended the Jubilee. It felt like a lifetime ago, though it had only been just over a month.

  It’s not like I felt comfortable, but I was here for support. Introductions were made, but the pressure was off me. It had been transferred to Bastian and Queen Lidia.

  And they were handling everything in stride. I found myself in awe of their professionalism, despite the reason for the gathering. It was a funny notion; I was professional at work too, and this was their job. It just happened to be under a microscope with the world watching.

  Things were going as smoothly as they could, and Bastian had been awarded with a momentary reprieve.

  “Doing alright?” he asked me.

  “You’re funny,” I guffawed. “You’re the one asking if I’m alright? Suffice it to say, I should be asking you that.”

  He gave me a sad smile. “As good as I can be, love.”

  Bastian’s attention had been interrupted, as someone came to offer their condolences. He and the man immediately embraced one another, giving each other the back-patting sort of hug that only men did.

  “Bash…damn,” he said, holding him back at arm’s length. “Are you going to introduce to me this beautiful woman or are you going to continue to be a boglodite?”

  “Ah, Remy, I’ve always appreciated your bluntness and complimentary ways. ‘Boglodite’…wasn’t that an alien species from a movie?”

  “Sure was,” he said seriously. “And you are the biggest one of them all,” he accused, turning to me. “Now, it’s Alana, isn’t it? It’s a pleasure to meet you finally in person.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” I assured him. “It’s Remy, as in Prince Remy, correct?” I had recognized him a second ago, but wanted the confirmation.

  Remy kissed the back of my hand, eliciting an annoyed look from Bastian. “The one and only,” he replied, enjoying the fact that he was ruffling Bastian’s feathers. “You might have recognized me—as the better-looking prince. Although,” he said as an afterthought, “Kasper has a pretty impressive pa—”

  Bastian cleared his throat while I hid an amused smile. “I need some water. Do you think you can behave yourself while I’m gone?” he asked Remy, his eyebrows raised dramatically. I had no doubt he was serious as a heart attack though.

  Remy replied by placing his hand over his heart. “I may love the ladies, but I would never steal another man’s woman.”

  Bastian disappeared and Remy and I were left to chat. I turned to face him after watching Bastian walk away.

  “That was really nice what you did,” I commented.

  “And what’s that?” he asked, cocking his head, regarding me with a curious look.

  “Distracting Bastian.”

  “Oh, that?” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Who’s to say I wasn’t just being an insufferable ass to him because it gives me endless amounts of joy?”

  “Oh, I have no doubt that annoyance was to your benefit, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t care for him,” I said.

  He made a fist and covered his mouth, suppressing a fake cough. “In all seriousness, though, I am worried about Bash. If he ever seems to, I don’t know, let the weight of the world pull him down, I want you to call me,” he suggested, handing over a card with his persona
l number on it.

  “Oh, I see,” I replied, offering a tight smile. I neatly tucked the card away and veered the conversation back to where we had been. “It’s obvious you have a friendly respect and love for one another.”

  Remy looked at me openly, but didn’t speak for a beat. I was starting to grow a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his gaze when he finally spoke. “Perhaps,” he said casually, “but what’s obvious is the love and respect he has for you, Alana.”

  My cheeks heated instantly. It’s not that I denied what he said, but rather how quickly he had assessed it.

  “And you got all of that from a two-minute interaction with us, did you? A title and astute observation skills…” I was being cheeky and he knew it, and like Bastian, it was really easy to get along with Remy. I found that I immediately liked him, and had it been different circumstances, it would’ve been nice for the three of us to spend some time together.

  “Well, it’s not hard to notice when a man is in love,” he remarked, checking a perfectly manicured nail. “I see that you’re good for him; I knew when he visited a few months ago that he had perhaps found his match. But now that I’ve met you, it’s obvious that he has found his soul mate.”

  “And what about you? Is there a lucky Mrs. Remy on the horizon?”

  He put his hands in front of himself, waving them. “Oh no…it’s not that I’m opposed to it, it’s just that right now, it’s just a little too…how do I put it? Permanent!” he said, chuckling.

  Bastian had most likely been side tracked, so while we waited for him, Remy and I retreated to a formal sitting room where we took a seat.

  “Scotch?” he asked, like he owned the place. And it must’ve shown on my face when he said, “What? This vintage was a gift from me, so if Bastian throws a fit, I’ll send him two more to replace it. One finger or two?”

  As Remy handed me an engraved tumbler with a modest single shot, Nikola entered the room with a visibly upset Luna on his arm. Both of us tracked them as they worked their way through the crowd, stopping to chat along the way.

  Fearing I’d say something rude, I took a sip, using the glass to hopefully hide my distaste.

  “Not a fan?” Remy asked me.

  I gave him a tight smile and carefully said, “The Prime Minister is quite charming…”

  “And his devil of a daughter?” he asked.

  “Let’s just say she’s not a very kind woman.”

  He broke out in laughter without garnering any further attention. “No need to be generous and filtered on my account. I can’t stand the woman,” he said unapologetically. “She’s worse than a knock off Hermès handbag; she’s fake as fuck.”

  Well, it was nice to know that I wasn’t alone with my dislike of the woman.

  Just then, Bastian rejoined us, sliding his hand over my knee and kissing my temple.

  I should’ve been embarrassed, but his open displays of affection made me feel good and his strong hand on me felt reassuring. Remy regarded us, very aware of the physicality of Bastian’s gesture.

  “No need to get territorial, Bash, I was just getting to know Alana.” Remy winked at me and waited.

  Bastian didn’t take the bait, but he did give Remy a piece of his mind. “Just wait. You don’t know what it’s like to be in love. It changes you in ways you never dreamed it could and gives you the greatest purpose on earth.”

  “And I don’t doubt that, Shakespeare, but I am perfectly fine with being in love with myself right now.”

  “And I’ll be here, ready to tell you I told you so when you finally fall under someone’s spell.”

  Castles. Spells. True love. I thought I had been the one brought up on fairytales, but the way these two grown men were throwing around euphemisms made me giggle.

  It was a nice, light moment we all shared before the inevitable heaviness tomorrow was sure to bring.

  I’d like to say that the funeral was much like that of others I’d been to, but the formality of the day was unprecedented.

  Flowers, bouquets, balloons and handwritten messages littered the streets in front of the cathedral, some having been collected already to make room for the arriving guests.

  The streets were lined with throngs of patrons, all waiting to pay their respects to their once beloved king. The crowds lining the streets were deeper than anyone in the back would be able to see, but they had the option to view the procession on big screens that had been erected, much like an outdoor concert.

  Per Bastian’s request, I was by his side as we exited the vehicle, making our way into Slaždin Cathedral. An overwhelming amount of people had already been seated as we made our way to the south transept and took our seats.

  Queen Lidia was front and center next to us, while Nikola and Luna sat behind us. Remy and Prince Kasper from the neighboring kingdoms sat next to Nikola. Foreign rulers, presidents and dignitaries took up most of the opposite side, all somber in their dark attire.

  Soft chatter floated around us; I caught bits and pieces of people sharing memories and reminiscing, while others suggested much more sinister things. Words like ‘murder’ and ‘premeditated’ hung much heavier in the air and I knew I had to talk to Bastian.

  To be honest, the thoughts that were being voiced had crossed my mind after the accident was explained, but the wounds were too fresh and raw for me to even entertain the notion, let alone share it with Bastian.

  I decided I was going to have to say something to him sooner than later, though the thought of hurting him further did nothing to ease my trepidations.

  The tenor bell gonged as the horse drawn carriage stopped in front of the cathedral.

  I felt Bastian stiffen beside me as a hush fell over the congregation, signaling the arrival of the pallbearers as they began to carry the quarter-ton lead lined coffin.

  Muffled weeping and attendees shifting in the pews were heard, and then the casket made its way down the nave before being placed before everyone in the sanctuary.

  “It’s just so unfair.” The sentiment came from behind us, and I didn’t need to turn around to know who it came from. Along with her distinct attitude, Luna’s voice was recognizeable. She had been practically inconsolable during the reception earlier, clinging to Nikola like she’d lost him and not Arik.

  “There, there, dear,” Nikola soothed. The man had his hands full with her, there was no doubt. I didn’t envy him in the least and I placed a steady hand over top of Bastian’s in reassurance.

  Readings were done, hymnals were sang, and haunting canons were played. The service was beautiful and ended with the choir singing a requiem. Bastian and Lidia were stoic with their resolve, a true testament to just how good they were under pressure.

  We all stood, filing out of the pews, the first couple of rows temporarily slowed from the crowd.

  “Bastian, may I have a word?” I asked him, gently tugging on his hand.

  He gave me a quizzical look, but acquiesced. We stole away to a quiet corner, and to anyone on the outside, it appeared we were merely taking a moment.

  “This is the worst timing to bring this up, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. Rumors are swirling around about the nature of the accident, if you will.”

  Bastian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What exactly are you getting at, Alana?”

  My eyes darted, making sure nobody was within earshot. “I think you need to have an investigation opened into the death of your father.”

  “And who’s speculating these…these accusations?” His voice was quiet, too tired to argue.

  “It’s just talk that I’ve been hearing, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t agree with it.” His eyes, that were downcast, suddenly looked at me with shock.

  “You think my father was murdered?” he asked as a forced whisper, pulling me further aside.

  I did, and I shook my head.

  “Look, I’m sorry for doing this here and now, but I’d rather you hear it from me than at the water cooler, so to speak.�
� I regarded him; shadows were under his once bright eyes and his shoulders slumped forward—something that wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone but me, and it gave him a defeated look that broke my heart.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face, inhaling sharply. “I’ll admit, it’s not your best timing, but I’ll speak with my mother about this, alright?” he asked, holding me at arm’s length. “I just don’t know if she can handle anything else at the moment…I feel like I can’t,” he said under his breath, but I caught it.

  I brought my hands up and hooked them over his forearms, offering a sympathetic smile.

  “If you need to use the loo, now would be the time to go—the ride to the castle will be much slower since we’ll be in the motorcade,” he explained. “Go on, I’ll wait here for you, love.”

  He had a good point, so I scurried off through the south aisle and found the loo.

  When I had finished, I looked in the mirror and quieted my inner monolgue. I felt better about telling Bastian about opening an investigation, but something still wasn’t sitting quite right.

  I hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but I felt strong in my conviction that he deserved to hear what was being whispered behind his and the queen’s back from someone he cared about.

  Quieting the voices, I dried my hands and found my way back through the imposing cloisters, only to stop short.

  Bastian was speaking with Remy, quite heatedly it seemed.

  “…different directions, Remy…I don’t know how much else I can handle right now.” Bastian was in profile, while Remy mostly had his back to me.

  I was momentarily at a loss: to interupt seemed rude, where lingering in the shadows seemed deceitfult. I was about to turn and give them some space when I heard something that made me stop in my tracks.