by Robyn Grady
Filling her lungs, thinking of what this decision would mean to everyone involved, she joined him. “Let’s go down.”
Darius snatched a kiss then led them all downstairs.
Wading through a sea of concerned staff—administrative and domestic—they reached the enormous front doors. Darius moved out onto the terrace. Leaving the doors open, he took a stand at the top of the wide arc of stairs. Helene stayed inside with Yanni and Galen. The next moment, Tahlia was there, too.
Helene filled her friend in while Tahlia’s eyes grew wider and wider.
She held Helene’s arm. “We don’t need to worry.” Tahlia stopped to swallow deeply, to find her courage. “Darius will make them understand. And the guard…they won’t let anyone get hurt.”
Neither of them dared to mention how the guard in that story—in real life a hundred years ago—had turned against those they were meant to protect.
As the palace gates swung slowly open, the crowd flooded in—mainly working-class men, but some dressed in suits. There were women, too, some with children on their hips.
The guard had formed an equipped arc around the lip of the terrace and stairs. Now Darius raised his hands to quiet the clamor.
“You’ve seen some news bulletins,” he said in a firm, loud voice, “and read some pamphlets. None of what you saw or read is true.”
“She’s not pregnant?” someone called out.
“You’re not marrying her?” called another.
“We want to see the goddess!” a different voice demanded, and the racket spiraled again.
Darius held up his hands a second time. “I have proposed to this woman. And, yes, she is carrying a child. My child.”
At the front of the crowd, an arm shot up, shaking a piece of paper. Accusations flew again. “It says she tricked you.”
“She was on the sacred island.”
“She tried to steal our goddess.”
“She destroyed her—shattered her to bits!”
Darius shouted over the row. “The fertility figurine is here with us, just inside those doors. A different piece was broken last night, a replica. The real goddess has been hidden away for centuries. But now—soon—you’ll be able to see her any time you please.”
The crowd had quieted as they craned to see and hear. Then a skeptical voice spoke out. “Why should we believe you?”
“We don’t want her as our queen!”
Darius stood tall. The air seemed to ripple with the depth of his resolve. “Helene Masters doesn’t have to be anyone’s queen,” he told them. “We can both leave now and never come back.”
While Helene held onto Tahlia’s arm for support, the crowd gasped. Even a guard or two turned around.
“I’ve always wanted to be a good king,” Darius went on. “I wanted to have your respect, to give you mine. But I won’t turn my back on my family. I won’t do that for any reason. I love Helene. We will spend the rest of our lives together no matter what. We will have this child and, God willing, other children too.”
While Helene tried to absorb what he’d just said—that he would give up his kingdom for her, that he was in love with her— Darius moved closer to the crowd.
“If you want to believe the media reports over what I’m telling you now, that’s your choice.” His words were stone. “I’ve already made mine.”
He waited a moment before turning to go inside. When he was almost at the door, another voice rang out.
“We want to see the goddess.”
Others joined in.
“Where is she?”
“Bring her out now.”
Beside Helene, Yanni stiffened and Otis appeared, taking his place beside Tahlia. After gathering her in his arms for a moment, Otis looked out at the crowd and pried himself away.
“I’ll go and stand with your brother,” Otis said.
But Helene stepped in. “No. I should go.”
She took the figurine from Yanni. If Darius had faith in her, the least she could do was have faith in herself.
She and Darius met at the doorway and together they walked back out to face the crowd. Darius took the figurine and held it above his head.
“This is the goddess. A symbol of our longevity and unity. From now on, she’s yours.”
While the crowd stirred and murmured, he walked down the stairs, moving between two guards. A wary man edged up and studied the figurine. As he moved away, clearly satisfied, another came up, and then another. After several moments, once the pack was hushed, Darius headed back up the stairs. On the terrace again, he stood ready to face any more accusations or complaints, but no one raised their voice. With the majority looking appeased, people began to wander away.
Finally, Darius turned and together they moved back through the doors.
Otis ventured out on the terrace and returned with a report. “They’re all drifting out through the gates.”
Darius handed the figurine to Yanni. “I’ll let you take care of this.”
As Yanni moved off, Galen studied his nephew and then hugged him. Helene heard him murmur, “Your father would be proud.”
Darius seemed to slump against the other man then inhaled deeply and drew away. Galen, Tahlia and Otis, along with the relieved staff, moved off. Darius took Helene’s hand and drew her into the closest available room—the library. Once the door was closed, he gathered her into the strong circle of his arms and kissed her with a passion that left her weak.
“I’ve fallen in love with the most beautiful, bravest woman in the world,” he murmured, tracing a palm over her cheek. “I can’t wait to meet our child.”
He released her only to fold one of her hands in his and press it to his chest. His heart was pounding just as hard as hers. She was so relieved, so in love, she wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry.
“I don’t want to abdicate…”
“You won’t need to,” she slipped in.
“But I will if it means keeping you.”
Hot, happy tears filled her eyes. “You’d do that for me?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“You’re sure?”
He drew her close again. With his brow pressed against hers and his smiling eyes searching hers, he let her know, “My heritage is one that believes in omens. If the sun rises on a fine day of the coronation, it will be a long and successful reign. If a released dove circles three times and returns, the year will be a fruitful one.” His head angled as his gaze dropped to her lips. “And if I kiss you now and you kiss me back then you’ll know that I’m certain. That I love you. Today. Forever.”
As tears curled around and tickled her chin, slowly and deliberately, his mouth captured hers. When they joined, there was no question. No doubt. With all her heart and being, Helene leaned in to embrace her only love and kissed him back.
When his lips left hers, he stayed close and asked, “Do you love me, Helene?”
She bit her lip then let out a sob of pure joy. “So much.”
“And you’ll marry me? Be my wife?’
Not so long ago she’d led an ordinary existence. But Darius was a long way from that. And from this day forward, his life would also be hers.
She cupped his jaw and, already knowing the answer, asked the question. “We’re going to be happy, Darius, aren’t we?”
A heartbeat before his mouth slanted over hers again, he assured her. “My love, so very happy.”
Epilogue
One year later, Point St. Claire...
It was so good to be home.
As Helene looked around her Mom’s backyard, at the faces of all her friends come to welcome her back, suddenly―unexpectedly―tears edged her eyes. Her life had changed so much. These last few months could have been a dream. A rollercoaster modern-day fairytale come true.
Within in a single year, she’d travelled the world, had fallen in love, helped to head off a rebellion. Had become a queen. But the biggest, very best thing of all…Helene was now mother to the most beautiful, sweetest baby gi
rl ever born. And that wasn’t just her opinion.
Darius was so proud, so totally besotted with his precious three-month old princess.
Helene’s mom was beside herself with love for her first grandchild, too. Much to Helene’s surprise, her mom hadn’t had a breakdown after hearing about the unplanned pregnancy. She had come to the wedding and had been nothing but supportive of the couple and their future. Helene had wondered whether Darius being a prince (soon to be king) had made a difference. What mom wouldn’t want Darius as a son-in-law? But Helene saw in her mother’s eyes, heard in her words, felt in her smile, that beyond anything else, she was happy that her own baby was now happy and settled and safe.
Since becoming a mother herself, Helene was way more understanding of her mother’s overly protective nature. But Helene had promised herself, while there was no question that she would make certain her baby was brought up in an atmosphere of unconditional love and security, she wouldn’t smother.
Darius, on the other hand… Well, his firstborn would always be his little girl.
Now, while catching up with Billy Slade on Point gossip, Helene glanced across the lawn. Instantly, a sublime syrupy feeling heated in her belly. It was his sexy smile, his hungry eyes, the way he always looked at her as if she were the only thing that truly mattered.
Or one of only two things now.
As Darius got closer, his contented smile softened in a way that made Helene melt. She placed a loving kiss on her sleeping daughter’s silken brow and then lifted her for Daddy to bring close.
Sitting beside Helene, Billy whispered in her ear. “I am so happy for you. That man idolizes you both.” Billy rested her head on Helene’s shoulder and sighed. “If I was ready to settle down, I’d be crazy jealous.”
Darius was gazing down, looking as if his chest might explode, his heart was that filled with love.
“She looks like an angel sleeping,” he said as old Judd Everett ambled over to join them.
Gazing down, too, Judd straightened his cap and chuckled. “She’s a cunning one, ayuh.”
Darius’s eyebrows lifted. “Cunning?”
“In these parts, that means cute,” Billy said. “Adorable.”
Darius’s smile returned as, gazing down again, he nodded deeply. “Yes. Our Acadia is certainly that.”
The moment their baby was delivered, Helene knew her name. They might never know how that other long ago princess’s story had ended, but Acadia’s name would live on a hundred years after she’d recued her baby nephew from the rebels who had threatened to finish the Vasily bloodline.
With a furrowed brow, Judd Everett rubbed the grey bristles on his jaw. “Acadia, you say? That’s the baby’s name? Unusual,” he said.
“It’s a family name,” Darius said.
“How’s that?” Judd asked.
Darius and Helene took turns in relaying the late princess’s story.
“There’s no mention in the history books of Acadia after the rebellion,” Helene said as the baby stirred in her daddy’s arms, “but at some stage the little prince, her brother’s baby son, must have been returned to the palace to continue the Vasily reign on the throne.”
“That baby,” Darius explained, rocking his daughter gently, “grew into a man, into a king, who was married and had two sons of his own. One of those sons, my father, had three children.”
“And now,” Judd said, his gaze on the baby, “the family line continues with this one…Acadia….” Judd frowned and rubbed his jaw again.
Judd Everett knew every story ever told about Point St. Claire. Now Helene got the feeling he was on the verge of sliding into another of his tales. But what could he know about the Acadia from a hundred years ago? Teirenias was not the Point.
Nowhere near.
But then Judd made an excuse and left in a shuffling hurry and Helene had to wonder…
Just what was that man up to?
Judd was back within the hour. The guests had left so family were settled around Janice Masters’ kitchen.
While Helen’s mother cradled her grandbaby by the fading light of a window, Judd cleared his throat, removed his cap, and then took a seat at the head of the breakfast table. Darius placed a filled coffee cup down in front of the older man then sat to his left while Helene, seriously curious, sat to Judd’s right.
“I’ve been at the library,” Judd said.
Helene’s mom didn’t sound convinced. “Should be shut by now.”
“I called on Merle Glover to open up for me.”
While Judd took a long sip from his cup, Helene explained to Darius. “Merle has been the Point’s librarian for forty years at least.”
“At least,” Judd confirmed. “When I told her what I needed, she grabbed the keys and bolted off on ahead of me.”
Sitting forward, Helene clasped her hands on the tabletop. She couldn’t stand the suspense. “What’s this about?”
“Your granny was born same year as me,” Judd said. “Her mom died just six years after that.”
“You mean my great grandmother,” Helene said.
“Ayuh. Your great great grandmother was known as Dee.”
Janice spoke up. “I never knew her, of course. But my mom had memories of her grandmother. She used to call her Mama Dee-Dee. Apparently she was a history buff, like you, Helene.”
Sitting back again, Helene held her brow. Too many generational back and forths. “Sorry. I’m confused.”
“What did you find at the library, Judd?” Darius asked. He had a certain gleam in his eye, like he knew where this was headed.
With a satisfied air, Judd pulled a slim leather folder out from inside his jacket. He set the folder down and theatrically opened its cover while Helene held her breath.
Inside were a few sheets of old paper. The writing was sweeping, faded. An exact match for the paper and handwriting Helene had found back in Teirenias inside that old wardrobe and desk drawer and globe.
But how could that be?
Judd gave a grunt of satisfaction before pushing the folder and its contents over Helene’s way.
“When your great great granny Dee-Dee passed away,” Judd said, “a friend found this incomplete story in her house, the final chapter to what must have been quite an adventure. It’s been held in our library ever since.”
Helene felt giddy. If Judd was right… But this was crazy. “Dee-Dee, my great great mother, wrote the story of Acadia and Leandros?” It gelled with the initials penned on the story’s first page―D.D. “Did she work for the Vasilys? A maid maybe?”
“Maybe. We know she came from that part of the world,” Janice said, edging closer. “She and her daughter―the girl you were named after, Helene―came to Maine sometime in the twenties.” Janice repositioned the baby, gave her a light kiss on the brow. “I’m pretty sure my mother said Dee went back to visit once or twice.”
Helene looked at Judd, at her mother, and then at her beautiful wide awake baby before finally finding her husband’s eyes...his thoughtful smile.
Sliding the leather folder and its pages closer, Helene exhaled. Her hands were shaking, palms sweating. “How do you think it all ends?”
“One way to find out,” Darius said. “Read it and see.”
ᵿᵿᵿᵿᵿ
Lunging, Acadia grabbed the figurine, spun on the balls of her feet and, shaking, drew the carved stone over her head like a boy ready to cast a ball. She would have hit the man’s head, cracked it wide open and rejoiced in his death and their freedom, except the pop of a pistol came first.
Leandros’s head jolted back. He clutched his chest at the same time a much smaller man bolted into the chamber. The man with the gun stumbled back, and then Acadia saw. She understood.
These weren’t rebels. They hadn’t come to cut them down. They were here to help.
The palace’s Chief Aide rushed over. His hands braced her arms. “Princess, are you unharmed? Who is the man? Did he abduct you? Hurt you?”
She knocked the Aid
e out of the way and scrambled to Leandros’s side. On her knees, her palms pressed against his bloodied shirt, she begged him as tears coursed down her face.
“Don’t leave,” she whispered. “Not yet. Stay here with me, with Acadia. Your Dee-Dee. Your love. Please, please, don’t go.”
The Chief Aide’s voice came from behind. “We need to move.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“When we discovered the boat, I guessed you’d found shelter in here. I should have walked in front. I take full responsibility. But this man is dead—”
“No,” she cried out. Leandros wouldn’t leave her, not this way. Not ever.
The Chief Aide’s voice was at her ear now. “The rebellion has been quashed. The leaders are imprisoned and awaiting trial. We must get the young prince back to claim the thrown as soon as possible.”
She swallowed against the aching sob rising in her throat. She ground out, “We’re not going back.”
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard.”
“We must leave now—”
“We’re not going back,” she snapped at him, ferocious and determined.
The Aide blinked, shook his head in a tight swift motion, and then resumed his calm voice. “You’re exhausted. Frightened.”
“I am grieving,” she bawled, but she didn’t crumble. Rather, she dug her fingers into the still warm chest and after an anguished moment, kissed the man she would always love one last time, giving him a lingering embrace that both coddled and shredded her heart.
Steeling herself, she stroked his brow then stood, tall and proud, as a princess would.
“You will take us far away from here,” she commanded. “You do it now or I will find a way myself.”
“But the rebels—”
“Killed my sister-in-law,” she cut in. “Murdered my brother. Took a dear friend, and I have no idea how many others have paid the price tonight. I made a promise and I won’t break it.” She collected the baby and pressed her lips to his soft crown. “We will never return.” With tears strangling her throat, she croaked out, “I won’t take the chance.”
