by S. E. Rose
Gulping in some air after holding my breath for too long, I turn my back to the beauty of the water over the reef and sit down on my bed. I rented this small guesthouse with cash. The owner didn’t seem bothered by this. I paid a full month in advance. I used cash to buy a pre-paid phone and pre-paid credit card. Most of my belongings are either at my parents’ home or back at the palace, including the phone. I wonder if it’s been found. I don’t think I even turned it off when I left. I was so mad that I stormed out of the palace leaving behind many belongings. Of course, l also left my work cell phone, but that was on purpose as I was fully aware that Christian would see it sitting on my nightstand.
I flop back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Turning, I grab the newspaper I bought from the small market down the street. Page seven. It’s a buried article talking about Norddale and how things are going back to normal after the most recent assassination attempt on the lives of the royal family. It mentions how all the staff have been cleared and all those involved have been arrested. No mention of anything further, no ongoing investigations, nothing that helps me to know what is happening.
Rolling over, I glance at the pre-paid phone. I’ve wanted to call him so many times. Just to hear his voice would steady my nerves, but I can’t risk it.
Deciding that I need to clear my head, I pick up the straw hat I bought a week ago and shut and lock all the doors before heading out to walk along the beach. I pass a middle-aged man I met a week ago. He’s a tourist. Another European, backpacking around the Caribbean. He waves at me as he climbs up on a rock that overlooks the reef. I wave back and continue my walk. Normally, I’d say hello and chat, but I’ve kept my distance from everyone here, too afraid that I might be found.
Many tourists have come and gone over the past two weeks, but there are a few still around from when I arrived. Vieques is a small island. I chose it because it’s off the beaten path. My parents’ neighbor said she enjoyed visiting here. She had shown us pictures and I always imagined coming here someday. Of course, I had also expected Christian to be here with me.
I should be enjoying myself, but I’m not. Instead, guilt washes over me for the millionth time this week. I should have told him. But how? I should have explained myself, warned him, or at least given him the truth. Yet, as the last few years went by, I dug my hole deeper and deeper until it was so deep that I couldn’t even see the light at the top anymore.
God, if he finds out, he’ll hate me. I hate me. I’m a traitor and coward.
The worst part is, from what I’ve read, they don’t even have the right people. There are more of them, and they are right under their noses. But if I go back, then I’ll be expected to report information, and if I don’t, then…well, I don’t want to even think about that.
I shudder at the memory of seeing photos of the last person that they tortured and killed for failing to do their part. A shot to the head or even a sliced throat would be kind in comparison to what they did to that man.
I sit down on a rock that hangs over a shallow pool of water. Letting my feet dangle in the cool, salty liquid, I remember the day that my life ended. It was the beginning of my end. The Mia that existed before that moment was a different person, a better person.
I’d only worked for Christian for about three months. Yet, it had only taken about three minutes for me to fall completely in love with him. When little girls think of Prince Charming, Christian is the image they see in their minds. Tall, handsome, intelligent, kind, and…I blush as my mind goes to the dirtier side of Christian. The side no one else sees but me.
When I went for coffee that morning, it didn’t seem odd to have a man strike up a conversation while in line. But then, he said my name.
I hadn’t believed the stranger when he’d told me who I really was. It wasn’t until I cornered Dad in his gardening shed that he admitted the truth. I am a princess. And no one can ever know. Only, this stranger, this man who approached me on the street near the palace knew. He knew all about it. And the threats he made, the photos he showed me, changed my entire life. Every time I try to stop, he shows up and tells me exactly how he’ll hurt everyone I love while forcing me to watch. So, I continue to feed him mundane information. It is only ever about Christian’s schedule. Nothing more. It’s harmless, or so I thought. It’s all a matter of perspective. That’s what I used to tell myself before my perspective changed.
When they found me in England and told me my role had changed, and when I returned to the palace, they were expecting me to bug rooms and report on conversations and take photographs. Essentially, use the trust I had built with the royal family to help end the royal family. And that’s when I knew, I couldn’t go back. Not then, not ever.
I took out cash and left my parents’ home. They thought I was returning to the palace, being cleared of any wrongdoing from the assassination attempt. But instead, I was heading here, escaping my fate, taking control of my destiny, and breaking my heart in the process.
Chapter Six
Christian
I look jealously over at Anna and Logan. My sister is snuggled against her husband across from me in the limo that Cain secured for us upon our arrival in London. Logan keeps a protective arm wrapped around her. Anna’s fingers fly across the screen of her phone. I have no idea who she’s messaging but her facial features keep morphing between annoyed, surprised, and angry.
Logan leans down and whispers something in her ear. A smile graces her lips.
Turning away from their show of affection, I look out at the English countryside. I have watched this same scenery too many times in the past week.
We’re starting with Mia’s parents’ home, and we are nearly there.
Again, they aren’t expecting us. Only this time, I have actual questions for them. Familiar buildings appear before me. We won’t be long now.
“It’s a cute town,” Anna observes.
I glance over at my sister, who is now sitting up and taking in the surroundings as we pass by the small village where Mia grew up.
I grunt in response, too deep in my thoughts to give her a verbal retort about the town. I can feel her eyes roll after I look away. Anna is the most stubborn, pigheaded, petulant woman I know, but she’s also the sweetest and most caring. She is so much like our mother, but she doesn’t know it. Her memories of our mother are few and far between. She was barely old enough to understand death. I press my lips together and force my thoughts in another direction. I can’t be reliving my past right now; I need to have my wits about me.
The car turns off down a small road, if you can call it that, it more resembles a trail. We pass hedges of boxwood bushes and then it opens to another trail.
I steal another glance at my sister, and I can already tell she’s completely transfixed by her surroundings. She loves this countryside cottage shit.
Our vehicle comes to a stop, and I wait for Cain to open the door.
“Mia grew up in a fairy-tale cottage,” Anna whispers as we wait. “She was a real-life Sleeping Beauty.”
Now it’s me that’s rolling my eyes. I glare at her. “Seriously?”
She giggles and shrugs. “I mean, come on, look.” Waving her hand at the scene in front of us as though it will make me agree with her immediately.
I’m saved from more torturous fairy-tale talk when Cain opens my door.
“Sir,” he offers as he motions that it’s all clear. I nod and exit, giving the house a once-over before I proceed to the front door. I know our security doesn’t like the idea of us showing up anywhere unannounced because it means anyone could be here, but right now, all I care about is figuring out what the fuck is going on.
“Thanks, Cain,” I mutter as I approach the door. Anna and Logan are behind me, but they might as well be a million miles away because right now, all I see is that blue door with the circle window. I want to see Mia on the other side. I need to see her.
Raising my hand that feels too heavy, I grab the brass lion door knocker and tap it, onc
e, twice, three times. There’s silence at first but then I hear the faint echo of footsteps.
Marilyn’s face appears at the door’s window, and when she opens it, she frowns. “Your Highness?” she asks, her voice telling me she’s both surprised and concerned by my second visit in the course of one week.
“I’m sorry to arrive unannounced…again, but I need to speak with you and your husband,” I explain. Her frown deepens at both my words and at my fellow guests which she peers at over my shoulder.
“Please, come in.” She steps back and motions for us all to enter. This time, it’s quite the entourage. Cain, followed by Anna and Logan. We follow her into her kitchen where she motions for us to sit at the table.
“Tea, coffee, water?” she asks.
Everyone declines her offer, so she takes the seat across from me.
“Max! Max, dear, we have company,” she yells. From somewhere above us, I hear footsteps. Then Max Edgewater enters the kitchen. I’ve only met him once. Had I not known his secret, I wouldn’t have put it together, but now…it seems glaringly obvious as though his truth had always been plastered on the wall for all to see.
“Your Highness, good to see you,” he greets me, extending his hand. I shake it and sit back down as he joins his wife across from us.
“I…sorry, this is a little, uh, awkward, to say the least,” I confess.
“Sorry? What’s awkward?” Marilyn asks.
Anna clears her throat and Marilyn and Max look at her. “It’s nice to see you both again.” She pauses and looks at me before continuing. “I came across something in looking for Mia, and well, we decided to come straight to you to discuss it.”
Marilyn and Max look at each other and back at us. They know.
“Have you spoken to Mia over the past few days?” I ask.
They shake their heads but then Marilyn gets up and walks to the kitchen counter, retrieving a postcard and setting it on the table. With her eyes on me, she pushes it across the table. Max glares at her but doesn’t say a word.
I look down at it. “Bahamas,” it says over a picture of a white sandy beach with palm trees. Flipping it over, I see the following in Mia’s handwriting. “All is well. Taking a holiday.”
With a frown, I push it back across the table. “When did this arrive?”
“Day before yesterday,” Marilyn states as she glances at her husband again.
“And you didn’t see a reason to let me know about it?” I fume.
Max clears his throat. “Listen, there are some things…” He trails off as he looks at each of us.
Marilyn reaches over and takes his hand in hers, giving him a small nod.
Max sighs and strokes his graying beard. “Our family is not exactly what Mia thinks it is.”
I can see Anna fidgeting and I know she is going to overstep, so I decide to take matters into my own hands. “We know who you really are, Max,” I admit.
His eyebrows shoot up.
I motion to Anna. “Anna discovered the truth while looking for Mia. Who all knows this?”
Clearing his throat, Max looks me in the eye. “She knows.”
Marilyn pulls her hand away from Max. “What? How?”
We all stare at Max and wait. He takes a long deep breath. “My mother was working in the palace. She was a maid in the guest wing. Anyhow, my father took a fancy to her, and she ended up pregnant with me. My father was already with Agatha. He didn’t want to leave my mother. He offered to care for her and…for me. But my mother didn’t want me known as the king’s bastard child, so she left and moved in with her best friend, my aunt, Jane. They had met as girls in school and then Jane came here to London to study, while my mother took a job to care for her sick father. He passed away a month before she left, two weeks before she found out she was pregnant with me. Anyhow, Jane and my mom told everyone that she had been married to a businessman who died in a car accident.” He pauses and looks around. “I didn’t even know until I was an adult. I found a letter from King Ivan in my mom’s drawer. Apparently, he had written to her and asked her to come back to him. She didn’t. And then a few years ago, Mia found out.”
“How?” Anna asks.
Max looks down at the table and then back up at me. “Someone had found out and told her.”
“What? Who?” I demand.
He shrugs. “She said it was some man that had followed her one day and told her. She didn’t believe him. She said he wanted to blackmail her or something, but she explained she wasn’t a princess, and he was confused. He gave her a document that showed some sort of DNA testing. Anyhow, she brought it to me and demanded to know the truth.”
“What about this man? Did she see him again?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “She assured me it was a journalist who wanted a story. When he didn’t get anything from her, he gave up on it.”
Anna looks over at me and I know she’s thinking the same thing as me. A journalist never gives up on a story and especially not when he has DNA evidence.
“Did Mia give you the paper with the DNA evidence?” Anna asks.
Max nods.
“Do you still have it?”
Max nods again and gets up, walking out of the room. He returns a moment later, holding a folded piece of paper.
Anna takes it from him and examines it. “May I keep this?”
He nods once again. “She’s in danger, isn’t she?”
Anna bites her lip before she speaks. “I’m not certain.” She looks over at me. “But we are going to find her. I promise.”
Marilyn’s eyes glaze over. “We shouldn’t have let her go, Max.”
He puts his hand on her shoulder. “We didn’t know, Marilyn. We didn’t know all of this was…you’re right.” He looks out the window. “I should have never let her work for a royal. It was always too dangerous.”
I grimace at his words. He’s right. I can’t deny that he’s correct. Being part of my world is dangerous. It always was and always will be. I can’t help wondering what else is going through his head. Was he really this ignorant? Did he think no one would find out about his bloodline?
“I’ll be in touch,” I say to them as I stand. “And, if you hear anything else from her—”
“We’ll let you know, right away,” Marilyn interjects.
I hand Max my card. “Day or night. I want to know. And I’m sending a security person to…make sure you’re safe here.”
I look to Cain, and he whips out his phone to set up security as we get back in the waiting car.
“He’s not telling us everything,” Anna states with a huff as she leans back in the leather car seat. “And she is most definitely not in the Bahamas.”
The car starts moving and I watch as the Edgewaters’ cottage gets smaller on the horizon. There are two other cottages nearby. We pass them as we make our way back to the main street that goes through their small village.
“I agree. She’s definitely not there,” I mutter. I’m frustrated and angry and confused. It’s like there are a million scattered puzzle pieces that I have to put together in order to find Mia. It shouldn’t be like this. She should be back here with me.
I glance over at my sister. She’s already back on her phone. Her fingers flying over the screen. I don’t know why that’s comforting to me, but it is. It’s as though one single thing is right in the world.
“Stop the car,” Anna says as her fingers pause.
The car comes to a screeching halt on the narrow lane.
“Go back to the cottage just past theirs,” she commands.
Logan and I give her a curious look. She doesn’t have time to explain as the car reverses back down the lane and comes to a stop. She pops out while Cain struggles to get in front of her.
Logan is on her heels a moment later and I struggle to get out after them. “What are you doing?” I ask loudly as I slam the car door and stare up at the small home. It’s only one story and has a door with a square window in it.
“I’m f
inding Mia,” Anna huffs as she knocks on the door.
An elderly woman answers. “May I help you?”
“Hello, Mrs. Simpson? My name is Anna and I’m friends with Mia Edgewater. I was just up at the Edgewaters’ home, and I remembered Mia had once mentioned you told her about a place you liked to vacation in the Caribbean. Well, she’s not home and Marilyn couldn’t remember it. So, I’m terribly sorry to just barge in on you like this, but I just couldn’t resist stopping to ask on my way out.”
Mrs. Simpson looks shocked by both Anna’s strange question and by her entire entourage. I know the minute she realizes who we are, and I grimace as her eyes widen.
“Oh, dear. Oh, my. You’re Princess Susanna of Norddale!” she exclaims. “Please, please, come in.”
Anna turns and sticks her tongue out at me. I glare at her, and Logan groans. Grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary, she waltzes inside, and we follow.
Mrs. Simpson motions to some chairs in a front room and we sit as she picks up a photo sitting atop a piano.
“This is Stewart and me on our last trip to Vieques. It’s the one I showed to Mia a few years ago. I told her all about this little guesthouse overlooking a cliffy shoreline. And how there were barely any tourists there and it was so peaceful. And the beaches are just gorgeous.”
She hands Anna the photo.
“It looks lovely. This is an island off Puerto Rico, yes?”
Mrs. Simpson nods and launches into the story of how she found it through a friend of a friend. We sit and politely listen.
“And then we ended up going and we just fell in love with it. We typically go every year, but Stewart had to have a procedure this year, so we didn’t go. Hopefully, they found someone to rent it. We were supposed to be on holiday there all this month.”
Anna looks at me and I know at that moment exactly where Mia is. But I have no idea how Anna figured this out.
