so the paparazzi won’t stumble on breaking news again. A show of good faith.”
Helena scribbled some notes while the general raised his coffee cup in a mock salute.
“Now can we get to business?” Georghe asked. “I want to hear what we’ve learned about these attackers.”
The general glanced at Drei. “We believe the transport copter continued through the mountains out of Hungarian airspace. They may have grounded the aircraft. We don’t know. The Hungarians’ radar didn’t yield anything, but they did offer to review surveillance tapes from their military base and a private airstrip in the region.”
“Do you think they’ll find anything?” Mirie asked.
“The attackers would have to be idiots to go anywhere close to civilization. Drei thinks they headed to Ukraine, using the mountains as cover for their escape.”
For the same reasons he had used them to escape with her. Spotty satellite coverage. Terrain that limited radio frequency. Was it any wonder Ninsele couldn’t get a lock on her own borders?
The military had been dismantled and replaced with paid thugs during the authoritarian regime, so the general had been rebuilding their armed forces ever since Mirie’s return. Unfortunately, rebuilding cost money the treasury didn’t have at the moment.
“Do you think the attack was a protest of the upcoming talks?” Mirie had to ask.
“If so, no one has claimed responsibility,” Georghe said. “Not yet, anyway.”
“We do have several corpses, so we haven’t hit a dead end,” the general went on. “The medical examiner is working to identify them now. Hopefully they’ll provide some leads.”
Georghe glanced at Mirie, his expression neutral. He would never say, “I told you so,” but he wasn’t happy. He glanced at Drei, and then said, “I’m sure you’ll come up with something soon. Her Royal Highness is home safely, which is what matters most.”
Mirie sighed. “Let’s discuss damage control for my newest half sibling, shall we?”
Georghe briefed her on Vadim, an American attorney who claimed to have been born out of wedlock during the first years of her parents’ marriage.
“A first child,” she said. “We haven’t had one of those before. And an American. That’s new, too.”
No one replied. Dealing with these claims was always awkward. Her father couldn’t defend himself against the charges and no one wanted to offend Mirie by impugning his moral conduct.
She kept the lead. “Do we know when Vadim was born?”
Georghe shuffled through some paperwork. “I’ve got his entry papers. June 29, 1980.”
Mirie mentally calculated. “My mother would have been pregnant with Alexi.”
No response.
“Do we know yet if my father even visited America during―” more calculations “―October of ’79 or thereabouts?”
Georghe didn’t bother looking back at his papers. “His Majesty visited Washington, D.C., for several weeks the year the honorary consulate opened. The time frame works.”
“And the alleged mother. She was in our employ?”
“That checks, too. An envoy named Ileana Vadim. A Ninselan citizen. She put in her notice in late 1981, and I couldn’t find any documentation that she ever returned to Ninsele. I’ve got my staff trying to track her down now.”
She nodded. “So Luca Vadim has done his homework.”
Silence. Mirie didn’t really need a reply. Everyone around the table was likely thinking the same thing.
Jus sanguinis. Salic law.
She may be in charge right now. She may eventually give birth to a son who could grow up to be king, but she would never be queen. Primogeniture decreed that only males could rule.
She couldn’t change that law even if she had been so inclined. Until she could negotiate consensus on the government structure, such a move would be seen as self-serving and could potentially deepen the rift between the opposing factions that had only tentatively been bridged since the civil war.
“Vadim is an attorney,” she said. “His most likely move will be to take his claim to court and sue for the right to the throne as the only living male heir.”
“He’d have to establish paternity,” Georghe said.
“He won’t,” Mirie said firmly. “Not through legal means, anyway. But if he continues to use the media, he will cast doubt on my right to negotiate with the European Commission. Enough doubt, and he may give the representatives one more reason to delay the talks.”
The very last thing they needed was to make the process of hosting representatives from the European Commission more complex. Like the Western Balkans that endured years of civil war, Ninsele had to be stabilized before it could formally become an acceding country with the commission’s support.
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