By noon tomorrow she’ll have heard the truth from me in person.”
“Oh, Alex—” she cried softly, forgetting she wasn’t going to look at him. “Isn’t there anything I can say to get you to reconsider acting too hastily?”
“No.”
Darrell moaned because a chiseled mask slipped over his striking features. She could feel it lock into place like the suits of battle armor on display in his castle’s ancient war room.
“The matter’s settled, Ms. Collier.”
In an instant he’d put an impenetrable barrier between them, one that froze her out with devastating force.
For a few minutes she’d forgotten he was a king and had pled with the man. But she wouldn’t be making that mistake again. “Good night, Your Majesty.”
Darrell hurried down the corridor to the bedroom. Almost crazy from lack of sleep and the incredible circumstances of their lives, she got ready for bed in the dark, then slid under the covers, taking care not to disturb Phillip. Before long oblivion took over.
Toward morning her troubled dreams had changed into a nightmare. At one point she came awake in a cold sweat with the very real premonition that the fairy tale Melissa had envisioned would not end in the traditional manner.
In Darrell’s dream she was hidden in the crowd of spectators lining the streets on Alex’s wedding day. The disillusioned citizens of his kingdom were booing the broken king and his twelve-year-old American offshoot sitting in the carriage between him and his grieving queen.
Quickly, before Phillip woke up and asked her why her face was wet, she rushed into the bathroom to shower. When she emerged a few minutes later, he was awake. The room steward had already delivered their breakfast trays, but Phillip’s was still untouched.
“How come you’re not eating?” she asked as she pulled a hydrangea blue two-piece suit from her luggage.
“I’m not hungry.”
That had to be a first for him.
“In that case, you’d better shower.”
“Okay.” He rolled out of bed. “I can’t wait to see Dad.”
“I’m sure he feels the same way, but he’s a busy man, so you’re going to have to be patient.”
“I know.”
No. Phillip didn’t know. He didn’t have a clue, and patience was not his strong suit.
Alex had been inspired to suggest a tour of the city. The key to handling Phillip’s nervous energy was to keep him busy, something his father seemed to understand instinctively.
For herself Darrell was glad they would be kept so occupied she wouldn’t have a lot of time to imagine what was happening in San Ravino.
She shuddered to think of the princess who was probably eating breakfast right now with no idea that in a few hours her whole world was going to be shattered.
“WHOA, Mom!” Phillip’s hungry eyes had just taken in the setting of the medieval castle at Bris, bordered in back by Lake Bris. Darrell’s heart echoed his words as the helicopter set them down on a helipad amidst the private, velvety green grounds east of the massive stone structure.
Accompanied by bodyguards who’d taken pains to explain everything they were seeing during their flight from Zurich, it truly was like being in a fantastic dream. From this height she could see other parts hidden from the public to the west that included a palace, a stable, tennis courts and a swimming pool.
On Darrell’s first visit to the castle the other day, she’d had to stand in line with other tourists at the front entrance, and saw but a small portion of the magnificent royal estate. Only from the air could you appreciate its vast size and splendor originating from the Middle Ages when the earliest Valleder kings built the city’s stronghold to keep the enemy at bay.
From the ticket window she’d followed the guide straight down to the vaulted, lonely dungeons every tourist came to see. But the tour had passed in a blur because her mind had been focused on meeting Phillip’s father. Such wasn’t the case with her son this morning. All Darrell had to do was look at his face to realize he couldn’t wait to go exploring in those dark, dank places. This was his legacy after all.
For her the real wonder of the castle lay in the rooms upstairs where the public was never allowed to go. Rudy, the man named who’d been on Alex’s staff for years and spoke excellent English, met them at the base of the grand staircase. He took over and gave them a cursory tour on the way to their room.
Both she and Phillip marveled at the grand knights’ halls, the secret twisting passages between lavish bedchambers, the Gothic windows with glorious views, a large, frescoed chapel. There was so much to see, it would take weeks!
“The Grand Kitchen,” Rudy explained, “still has its original wooden ceiling and four massive oak pillars which were installed in 1270.” He showed them the Plessur Bedchamber containing the original bird and ribbon decorations dating from the 1580s. When he escorted them to the expansive Hall of Arms covered with escutcheons of the Valleder bailiffs, Phillip went into ecstasy and didn’t want to leave. But Rudy reminded him, “There’s much more to see.”
He was right. The King’s Chamber with its original thirteenth-century wall paintings showed rustic scenes of animals in a meadow with St. George slaying a beast on the chimneypiece. Not far from that room they entered the magnificent Great Hall of the Prince of Bris with its original octagonal table and tapestries.
Finally Rudy escorted them to the Saxony apartment where they would be staying. It was two bedrooms really, both with enormous canopied beds and fireplaces, and joined by a set of carved doors. “This is awesome!” Phillip exclaimed. Rudy laughed, obviously finding her son amusing. But Darrell was so overcome by the room’s beauty, she stood in place, speechless.
There were slender black marble pillars and shimmering checkered wall decorations. Her neck hurt from viewing the coffered ceilings, which dated from the fourteenth century. She was charmed by the two recessed windows with window seats overlooking the lake. Above the arches of each window was a fabulous cloverleaf design. The same set of windows graced the smaller, adjoining room. Exquisite.
“Hey, Mom—Come here! Your room has a balcony!”
Rudy had opened a pair of doors that went from the inlaid-wood floor to the vaulted ceiling. The inserts told a Biblical story in gorgeous stained glass. Beyond them lay the shimmering waters of Lake Bris.
The sculptured stone balcony could have been made for Romeo and Juliet. It hung out over the water, taking her breath. So did the view of the mountains rising from the other side of the lake.
“His Majesty asked me to take you on a tour of the city. I’ll come by for you in twenty minutes. In the meantime, make yourselves at home. Your bags have been brought up.”
Once Rudy had gone, Phillip let out a whoop of excitement and began exploring his room. He
