Chapter 19 — A Name from Africa
The clue arrived folded inside an ordinary merchant's letter.
Alexander nearly missed it.
They had reached the harbor the previous afternoon, and by morning his table was covered with reports collected from ship captains, merchants, port officials, and military contacts.
Most repeated information he already knew: a damaged vessel had arrived after a storm, Rourke had been seen near the docks, and several men connected to him had disappeared after strangers began asking questions.
Then Alexander opened a letter from a trading company that had recently dealt with merchants arriving from Africa.
One sentence stopped him.
Representatives of the Kingdom of Azania were searching for two abducted women.
Alexander read it again.
Azania.
He knew the name.
Everyone involved in international trade knew it.
The kingdom was wealthy, independent, and commercially powerful. Its ports handled valuable goods, its rulers maintained relationships with foreign governments, and its merchants appeared in markets far beyond Africa.
Alexander continued reading.
The representatives carried royal authorization and were offering a substantial reward for reliable information.
One of the missing women was described only as a young woman of approximately Amara's age, highly educated, multilingual, an accomplished rider, and believed to have been taken near the royal territories.
Alexander slowly lowered the letter.
Every detail fit.
He remembered Amara talking about ministers.
Her tutors.
The riding master.
The guards she had escaped as a child.
Her knowledge of diplomacy.
The ships, soldiers, and agents her father controlled.
And the way she had reacted when Alexander asked whether her father was a ruler.
He stood.
There were coincidences.
This was not one.
Amara was downstairs with Lela when Alexander found her.
She knew immediately something had happened.
“What?”
Alexander held up the letter.
“I found a name.”
Her expression changed.
“What name?”
“Azania.”
Lela went completely still.
Alexander saw it.
Amara recovered faster.
“It is a kingdom.”
“I know.”
“A large one.”
“I know that too.”
Alexander looked from Amara to Lela.
Neither woman spoke.
He lowered his voice.
“Representatives from Azania are searching for two missing women.”
Amara's face remained controlled, but her fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
Alexander continued. “One of them is your age. Educated. Multilingual. An experienced rider.”
“Many women ride.”
“Not many have royal agents crossing foreign ports looking for them.”
Silence.
Lela looked at Amara.
That tiny movement told Alexander almost as much as the letter.
“Amara.”
She stood.
“Not here.”
She walked toward the door.
Alexander followed.
They went outside and continued until they reached a quiet section of the harbor.
Ships filled the water beyond them. Sailors shouted across the docks, and gulls circled overhead.
Amara stood with her back to him.
Alexander waited.
Finally she said, “What else does the letter say?”
“That the search has royal authorization.”
She nodded.
“Anything else?”
“There is a reward.”
“How much?”
Alexander told her.
Amara almost smiled.
“That sounds like my father.”
Alexander's suspicion became certainty.
“Your father is connected to the royal family.”
She looked toward the water.
“Yes.”
“How closely?”
No answer.
Alexander stepped beside her.
“Amara, I have respected your decision not to tell me. But we're close to finding the people searching for you. I need to know whom I am contacting.”
She understood.
The secret had protected her when she was surrounded by men who saw wealth as another reason to exploit her.
But Alexander was no longer one of those men.
He had earned more of the truth.
“My father is Adisa.”
Alexander waited.
“Adisa what?”
She almost laughed.
“Just Adisa will be enough.”
Something about the way she said it made him uneasy.
He searched his memory.
Then the name connected.
King Adisa.
Alexander turned toward her.
“No.”
Amara said nothing.
“King Adisa?”
Still nothing.
“Of Azania?”
She finally looked at him.
“Yes.”
Alexander stared.
The harbor seemed to disappear around him.
All the strange details suddenly became obvious.
The tutors were royal tutors.
The ministers had actually been ministers.
The guards were royal guards.
The enormous household, the horses, the diplomats, the ships—none of it had been exaggeration.
“Your father is the King.”
“Yes.”
“And you are…”
He stopped.
Amara raised an eyebrow.
Alexander almost laughed from disbelief.
“Princess Amara.”
She sighed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That expression.”
“What expression should I have? You have spent weeks allowing me to believe your father was some unusually successful merchant.”
“He is unusually successful.”
“Amara.”
“He does participate in trade.”
“He rules a kingdom!”
“That too.”
Alexander turned away, ran a hand over his face, then looked back at her.
“You're a princess.”
“I was a princess yesterday too.”
“I didn't know yesterday.”
“Does knowing change me?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
That silenced both of them.
Alexander looked at her differently for only a few seconds.
Then he remembered the woman who had stolen his horse, insulted Harcourt at dinner, thrown a wooden weapon at a pirate, corrected his accounts, and occupied half his thoughts.
A title explained her past.
It did not explain Amara.
“You could have told me sooner.”
“I could have.”
“Why didn't you?”
“You already know why.”
He did.
Rourke had kidnapped her for money without even knowing who she was. If he had discovered that he possessed the daughter of a king, the danger would have multiplied.
“And later?” Alexander asked.
Amara hesitated.
“Later became more complicated.”
“Because you still didn't trust me?”
“At first.”
“And after?”
She looked at him.
“Because you didn't know I was a princess.”
Alexander frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does to me.”
She turned toward the harbor.
“You argued with me when you thought I was nobody. You listened to me when I had no title. You investigated Rourke before you knew my father could reward you. You decided I should be free before you knew my family had power.”
Alexander understood.
Amara had needed to know what kind of man he was when there was nothing to gain.
“And now?” he asked.
“Now I know.”
Alexander took the letter from his pocket.
“Your father's representatives may be less than two days away.”
Amara's eyes filled immediately.
“Two days?”
“Possibly sooner.”
She took the letter and read it herself.
For weeks she had imagined this moment.
Home had existed only in memories and distant rumors.
Now her father's name was written on a piece of paper in her hands.
She pressed her lips together.
Alexander remained silent.
A tear escaped.
Amara wiped it away impatiently.
“Don't.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I was going to tell you that you're allowed to cry.”
“That is exactly why I told you not to.”
He smiled.
Then Amara laughed through her tears.
Alexander wanted to hold her.
He did not.
Not until she stepped toward him first.
Then he put his arms around her.
For a while, neither spoke.
When they separated, Alexander's expression had become serious.
“There is another problem.”
“Rourke.”
“Yes.”
If Rourke learned the truth, Amara was no longer merely a witness who could identify him.
She was a royal hostage worth a fortune.
“We increase the guard,” Alexander said.
Amara gave him a look.
He corrected himself.
“I suggest we increase the guard.”
“Much better.”
“Do you agree?”
“Yes.”
“And you don't leave alone.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Would you please not leave alone?”
“I'll consider it.”
“Amara.”
She smiled.
Even after discovering he had been arguing for weeks with a princess, Alexander apparently remained capable of being irritated by her.
That comforted both of them.
They returned to the inn.
Lela was waiting.
Amara looked at her cousin.
“He knows.”
Lela glanced at Alexander.
“All of it?”
“Enough.”
Alexander looked at Lela.
“You knew the entire time.”
“Of course.”
“And you said nothing.”
“She told me not to.”
Alexander shook his head.
“Apparently refusing my instructions is a family tradition.”
Lela laughed.
Amara looked pleased.
Then Alexander bowed dramatically toward her.
“Your Royal Highness.”
Amara's expression became dangerous.
“Do that again and I will throw something at you.”
Alexander straightened.
There she was.
Princess or not, she was still Amara.
But everything around them had changed.
Somewhere along the coast, King Adisa's representatives were coming closer.
Somewhere else, Rourke might already have heard the same name.
And Alexander now understood the full scale of what had begun when a furious young woman arrived in his courtyard.
He had not simply helped an enslaved woman escape the men who had stolen her.
He had found a missing princess.
And, far more dangerously, he had fallen in love with her.