Chapter 11 #2
“When you turned up outside my door at God knows what o’clock on Christmas morning, I was expecting a dramatic story!” éduard’s smile faded. “And yet now I am minded to think it more a tragedy than a comedy.”
Maxim sighed. He knew his friend of old, and he would not be put off. “‘Tis a dramatic tale, you must admit. I went through it all last night, surely you do not need me to tell it again?”
éduard shook his head as he reached for the teapot. “No, I think I have a clear idea of what happened.”
Why did his friend sound so calm? Maxim glared down at his plate. What was the point of food, if he had to live in a world in which Annika lived, but could not be his?
“Who would have believed it,” he said darkly, poking at a sausage. “A woman who looked so innocent could actually be so – ”
“Human?” éduard said archly.
Maxim scowled at his friend. “If you do not want me here, cluttering up your home, I can just leave.”
The prince leaned back in his chair, examining his expression. “Do not be so insensé . I would never turn away a friend, especially a distant cousin.”
That was enough to make Maxim smile, just a little. “You have never told me how we are supposed to be related. What was it, third cousin twice removed by our great grandparent’s marriage?”
éduard waved away Maxim’s words as he grinned. “The point is that we are both royal – and you, if you do not mind me saying so, have managed to create a royal mess for yourself.”
Maxim leaned forward with teacup in his hand, which was filled. “I do not know how you make that out. I was honest with her the entire time, from the very beginning of this sham engagement – ”
“Which was your suggestion,” interrupted éduard.
“ – and yet all she did was lie to me,” continued Maxim doggedly.
His companion raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so it was common knowledge to everyone else then, I see.”
Discomfort rose in Maxim’s stomach. Well, anything would sound foolish if spoken like that. “No, it was a secret from everyone – I don’t think the child even knows.”
After taking a sip of his tea, éduard frowned. “I am lost then, my friend. What made you think that you were special, nay, important enough to be told a secret that a father and daughter had kept for over a decade?”
“We were supposed to be getting married this afternoon!” Maxim exploded. “‘Tis only because of our late night conversation that we are having breakfast at this ungodly hour. I should be on my way to be married at this very moment!”
The cup of tea in his hand had spilled across the table. A brown stain moved steadily across the crisp white linen.
He was supposed to be getting married that afternoon. How had it all changed in just one conversation? Instead of finding his bed warmed by his delicious new bride, he was spending Christmas as the miserable guest of éduard.
His host was shaking his head. “You fool.”
Without saying another word, he rose and stepped over to a cabinet. As Maxim watched, éduard opened up the cabinet, took out a bottle of an amber liquid, and two glasses.
“You know, I would not normally do this at only one o’clock in the afternoon,” he said conversationally, “but it is lunchtime, I suppose, and it is Christmas. More importantly, you are an imbécile .”
Pouring a large measure of the liquid, he handed the glass to Maxim.
“Brandy?”
éduard nodded. “France’s best.”
Maxim accepted it gratefully and poured the burning liquid down his throat. It brought him back to life in a way that tea never could.
“I admit it,” he said grudgingly, “it was a secret from the world, true, and so I was not particularly special in not knowing it. But damnit, éduard, I wanted to be special! I was going to marry her!”
éduard had poured himself a similarly generous glass of brandy, and as he sat back in his chair opposite him, raised an eyebrow.
“I thought the only reason you had concocted this charade was because you two were found in a compromising position. Was it not a… comment dites-vous, mensonge …a lie, anyway?”
Maxim sighed, draining his brandy glass. Secrets and lies. Where do they mix, where do they meet? What was the difference in the end?
His mind returned to Annika. He had fought it, tried desperately not to dwell on her beautiful face, the way she had hurtled away, hurt by him.
“Your Czar charm won’t fool me.”
A smile crept across his face, unbidden. She was honest, their conversation free, every moment with her easy.
Their lovemaking had been wild and passionate, unrestrained. He had never experienced anything like her.
Was he really willing to walk away from all of that?
“You are a Czar,” éduard said heavily, “or you should be, which is what matters. But right now here you are, in exile with a fellow exiled royal, in another country where you cannot be appreciated.”
Maxim’s heart softened. It was all very well for him to complain. He had a throne to go back to. His family, albeit distant, was still on the throne of Russia.
éduard’s would never be going back to France.
“Yet you had the chance for something real, something that you could actually experience whether you were a Czar or not,” continued éduard. “You had happiness in your grasp, and I say again, you were an idiot to lose it.”
“I-I, the idiot!” Maxim spluttered, his veins heated by the brandy. “I am no fool!”
“Yes, you are,” éduard said calmly, placing his glass down and staring seriously at his friend. “After all this time you have spent looking for a throne, why not become the king of your own castle?”
Maxim stared. “Castle? The Marshes have no castle.”
Shaking his head and laughing, éduard said, “No, ‘tis an English expression. To be king of your castle. To build a home. Mon Dieu , you had the chance to build a real life, not one in the clouds. Was it really worth throwing away for a little misunderstanding about medals?”