Chapter 21 – Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
The gentle dip and sway of the yacht brings a smile to my lips as I find Rowan leaning against the railing, his eyes lost on the horizon.
His tall and muscular frame makes him an imposing figure, but beneath that exterior is a man who has a heart of gold and has turned into my rock over the last few months.
“Care for one?” Rowan asks as I approach, holding out a small wooden box filled with cigars.
“Absolutely,” I reply, selecting one with care.
Cigars are Rowan’s thing, but I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy them, especially with a drink.
Rowan hands me a lighter, and together, we light our cigars, standing side by side, sharing a comfortable silence as we puff away, watching the waves out at sea.
“Sebastian, this vacation has done wonders for you,” Rowan remarks, breaking the silence. “I haven’t seen you this relaxed in years.”
“That’s because you weren’t on my honeymoon with me,” I quip, and he tosses me a raised eyebrow.
“You’re right,” I concede. “It’s been a long time coming.
” I exhale a cloud of smoke, allowing myself to dwell on the events of the past few months—hell, the last few years, and the years even before that.
“Things have been…difficult, but I’ll be honest and say I never thought we’d get here. ”
“No. Nor I. Speaking of which”—he grins, nodding toward the ocean below—“your kids are having the time of their lives.”
I follow his gaze and chuckle at the sight before me. Phaedra, Sabrina, and Zayer are splashing around in the water, their laughter echoing through the air. The joy on their faces warms my heart, and I know I need to join them.
“Mind if I steal away from your musings?” I ask Rowan.
He gives me a look. “You’re wasting a good cigar.”
I hand it to him, and he scowls at the thing. “I’ll buy you another.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
“I see you down there!” I call to them, already making my way toward the edge of the deck.
“Come on, Papa!” Phaedra beckons, her blonde locks sticking to her face as she waves me over.
“Last one in is a rotten egg!” Sabrina teases, her eyes sparkling with mischief, especially since they’re already in the water, which automatically makes me the rotten egg.
“All right, you asked for it!” With a grin, I dive headfirst into the sea, feeling the salt water envelop me and my muscles tighten at the shock of cold as I swim toward my children. Christ, how do children do this and not be bothered by it?
“Got you!” Zayer exclaims, wrapping his arms around my neck as I surface, his floaty vest smacking me in the face. “You’re it!”
“Am I now?” I laugh, playfully wrestling him off my back. “Let’s see how fast you can swim away!”
The three of them squeal and scatter, their laughter music to my ears.
I didn’t do this with them enough. Play.
Laugh. Just be with them like this, where they’re free to be kids.
As I chase after them, splashing and ducking beneath the waves, I realize my wife changed all of that for me.
She’s helped me become the man, father, and king I’ve always wanted to be.
I glance over at Bellamy standing on the deck, her eyes shimmering as she smiles at the scene before her.
“Come join us, Belle!” I call out to her.
She snorts, her eyebrows at her hairline. “Belle?”
I throw up a hand. “You need a nickname, no?”
“Since when? Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy husband?”
“Come on, Belle.” I grin cheekily. “Surely you Americans have heard of nicknames.”
Her smile grows as she kicks off her sandals and shoves off the edge into the water. The sun catches in her hair, making it look like ribbons of chocolate.
“All right, everyone,” I announce, swimming over to Bellamy and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let’s see who can make the biggest splash!”
“Me! Me!” Sabrina cries out, bobbing up and down in excitement. We all laugh and take turns, the water spraying around us as we leap, splash, and dive. Even Arthur joins in, paddling through the waves with surprising grace, which delights the children to no end.
Suddenly, a faint ringing interrupts our fun. I frown, realizing it’s my phone from up on the deck by Rowan.
I hear Rowan answer and call down to me. “Sebastian, there are a few small issues in Messalina that require your attention.”
“Give me a moment. I’ll be right out,” I call up to him.
The weight of responsibility settles back on my shoulders, but I refuse to let it ruin our time together.
We have a few more days of this, and I intend to make the most of them.
Still, it’s like déjà vu with the phone call while we’re on holiday.
Climbing out of the water, I snatch a towel off a nearby chaise and dry myself as I ascend the stairs leading to the sundeck Rowan is on.
“What is it?” I ask as I get closer.
“Two things.”
“Okay.” I raise my eyebrows when he doesn’t follow that up.
“One, the prime minister is asking for a phone call tomorrow about a potential labor strike with the transportation workers.”
I sigh. “Dammit, that might require me to leave early if it happens. What’s the second thing?”
Rowan’s jaw locks. “The second thing is that fingerprints were able to be lifted from the newspaper clippings I found in the cottage.”
My breath catches.
“And?”
“And the woman’s name was not Elara. Her name was Marie Elonaise.”
I blink, taking a step back, my hand clasping the railing. “Why do I know that name?”
“Because she worked in the palace. She was an assistant with the royal guard.”
“Christ.” I run my hand over my face. “We need to speak to whoever was in charge back then.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “I’m already having Javier look into it.”
“Good.” I clasp his shoulder. “Never an easy or dull moment. But at least we have a name, and if we have a name, we can hopefully find her. You realize this means our mother lied to us. If we remember her, she knew exactly who she was.”
“I know. She didn’t want us to find her for whatever reason.”
I shake my head, rippling with fury at that, and head back down to my family still swimming and splashing.
“Everything all right?” Bellamy asks, concern etched in her features.
“Nothing to worry about,” I assure her with a tight smile I’m positive she can see through. “Just a small issue back home we can discuss later.”
“Okay,” she says, relief washing over her face as she leans in for a brief kiss. “Now come on, we’ve got some splashing to do!”
I return her smile and dive back into the blissful chaos of our family’s laughter. The world beyond the waves can wait until tomorrow.
Only that doesn’t happen. My phone starts ringing at midnight. A strike is imminent, which means we’re flying home tomorrow so I can handle it. Plus, I think Rowan is anxious to get back and dive deeper into the fingerprints and find the woman who stole Desta from us.
By the time we get everything going, the children all packed up, and finally make landfall—because we will never fly in a fucking helicopter—it’s sometime just after dawn.
The children are yawning and rightfully complaining.
Bellamy is quiet and sleepy, her head on my shoulder as we drive to the private airport in Italy.
The drive isn’t very long, and by the time we get there and get underway, the sun is climbing high in the sky.
The children are on their tablets and Bellamy is half asleep, still resting on me.
Althea has been working on her laptop pretty much since I woke her.
She’s trying to get a bead on the strike, but right now, I have more of a pressing question.
She wasn’t living in the palace at the time, but I’m curious if she remembers anything.
“Althea?”
“Mmm?” she questions without looking up from her screen.
“Do you remember Marie Elonaise?”
She pauses, her head tilting as if she’s searching her mind. “It sounds familiar, but I’m not sure I can place the name. Who is she?”
“The woman whose fingerprints were lifted off the newspaper clippings we found in the abandoned cottage.”
She freezes, her eyes growing wide. “Why do I know her name then?”
“Because she used to work in the palace as the assistant to the royal guard.”
“Under Sir Lawrence?”
Rowan and I exchange glances. “Sir Lawrence? As in the current head of the royal guard?”
“He has been for more than thirty years. Sebastian, you should know this.” I get a reprimanding look and she’s not wrong. I should know how long the head of the royal guard has held that post, but I didn’t realize it. I rarely see him personally and didn’t piece it together.
“So he’d know what happened to her?”
She shrugs. “Potentially. I only remember the name. I couldn’t tell you anything about this person. Have you asked your mother?”
“She’s the one who told us Elara was a servant. She clearly lied when she said she didn’t know anything about the woman other than her name,” Rowan supplies.
Althea gives a weary sigh. “Right. That’s off-putting.”
“It makes no sense,” I continue. “I knew who Marie was and I was just a boy. Why is she continuing to hide information on the woman who stole Desta?”
Althea shakes her head. “I have no idea. I was surprised she admitted to what happened with the woman in the first place. Between her and your father and then with the tiara. But she’s obviously hiding more, and I can’t tell you why she didn’t want you to know other than it must be something big.”
“Should we confront her again?” Rowan questions.
“I’d see how far you can get without her,” Bellamy murmurs softly. “She already tried to mislead you with this Elara nonsense, and she didn’t know you found the newspaper clippings. She doesn’t want you to find the woman.”
“No, she doesn’t.” I clear my throat and look at both Rowan and Althea. “I’d like your thoughts on having Javier privately look into our mother.”
I’m treated to dead silence. The only sound is the gentle humming of the airplane engines.
“I’m in favor of it,” Rowan states lowly. “Even if it doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Same,” Althea agrees.
“Belle?” I question, tossing out her new nickname.
She shakes her head against my shoulder, her eyes still closed. “I’m not part of that decision.”
“You’re my wife and the queen.”
“You don’t even need me to answer. There is no tiebreaker required. She’s your mother and your sister,” she points to Althea. “The decision rests with you.”
“Then since the rest of us are in agreement, I’ll speak with him when we get home.”
“It stays between us for now though. I don’t know what we’ll find or the implications of it, but it stays with us until further action is required. If we get to that point.”
I nod at Rowan. “I agree.”
“Same,” Althea chimes in, looking miserable. She may not be close with her sister, but this is our mother we’re discussing, and surveillance is no small matter.
“Now,” Bellamy starts, changing the subject. “How on earth do we go about hiring a nanny? I mean, I literally fell in your lap, but how did you do it before I came along?”
Althea and I exchange glances. “Not well,” I admit. “The children hated everyone we hired.”
“You’re not helping with my confidence on this,” Bellamy deadpans, sitting up and looking at me. “I want someone who genuinely cares for the children, respects your authority, and understands the unique challenges of raising royalty.”
I roll my eyes at my wife. “You mean the way you did?”
“Hey! I got two out of three.” She smirks at me. “I just enjoyed playing with your authority a little too much. But since that won’t be happening with anyone we hire, we need someone…amazing.”
I nod, my gaze briefly flickering toward the back of the plane where the children are playing on their iPads, headphones covering their ears.
“What do you propose we do?” I ask, genuinely interested in her insight.
“Emily used to have us go through an agency. Oftentimes we got women with incredible résumés who ended up wanting to work for us to either find their way to my bed—don’t give me that look, that’s how it went—or they thought it was cool working for a cursed family and were looking to exploit us. ”
“Fabulous. Are you telling me I’m going to have to beat women away who are trying to nail my husband?”
My brows furrow. “Nail me?”
She puffs out a breath. “American term.”
“Clearly. And for the record, you were the first of them who I…nailed.”
She giggles lightly. “As much as I trust you, you’re seriously hot and sexy and that worries me. I don’t want to have to deal with the sexual dynamic of nannies.”
“Might I suggest you begin by conducting interviews?” Althea offers, folding her hands together.
“Meet with candidates personally to gauge their personalities and qualifications. See if they make any suggestive remarks or linger too long when looking at Sebastian. But more than that, it’s important to trust your instincts when making this decision. ”
“Interviews…right,” I murmur, already hating the idea. It’s part of what I hated most before Bellamy came along.
“Actually, I’d like to interview them,” Bellamy states. “I feel as the new queen, the young, pregnant, former nanny new queen at that, if ever there was going to be disrespect and cattiness, it would come at me. So let me be the first round and then we’ll go from there?”
“You don’t have to ask,” I tell her. “I trust you. I trust you with the children. I trust you with all of it.”
And I do. It’s not something I ever thought I’d say about anyone outside of Rowan, Althea, Javier, or Emily, but I trust Bellamy with my children and my life.
Bellamy stares up into my eyes and kisses me softly. A kiss that, no matter what, always manages to steal my breath. Her. She does that. She’ll always do that to me.
With renewed resolve, I gaze out the airplane windows as Messalina stretches out before me, vast and beautiful. Home. It’s my home. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect it. And the people I love. Even if it means opening our lives to someone new. Again.