Hand-Me-Down Princess (35 page)

What was left of Malachi’s heart stopped beating as he waited for the answer.

“NO!” His father looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve known since that day, all those years ago, that it was possible, but it didn’t matter to me. Not until I found out Jessabelle is my daughter a few minutes ago, did it matter. Because if you were my biological son and she is my biological daughter, we would have to figure out how to deal with all of the fallout. Not publicly, though that could be very, very bad if this were to come out, but for the two of you.”

His father looked every inch the king he was as he stood up and came walked toward Malachi. He held out a hand. Malachi grasped it and allowed himself to be pulled into a standing position. “I am proud of you, my son. You have never wavered in your belief that, somehow, you and your bride were meant to be together. You did not listen when I tossed bitter words your way. It took learning of this man’s actions to end my affair. For you, you would never have had one. You, Prince Malachi Jedidiah Richard Louis Van Renssalaer, are a better man, a better husband, than I was.”

Malachi let go of his father’s hand. “I can’t do this,” he muttered. Not caring who he ran over in his rush, he left the sitting room and ran down the nearby stairs. The carpet runner muffled the sound of his feet hitting the stone floor as he ran through hallways and down more stairs until he reached the entrance to the gardens. He continued to run until he reached the locked gate at the other end. All he had to do was jump the fence. It would set off alarms, but he could escape into the forest beyond. He could leave behind the trappings of the life that never should have been his.

He was his mother’s son. His father’s disgrace. The king’s worst nightmare.

Visions of headlines danced in his head.

Queen’s Affair Leads to Illegitimate Son

King’s Affair Leads to Love Child Assimilated into the King’s Family by Marriage Farce

The rock handholds helped him scale the ten foot wall. He dropped to the other side. He ran until he reached the tree line. There he stopped, rested his hands on his knees and struggled to catch his breath. Heaving sobs rose in his chest as tears refused to stay where they belonged.

Jessabelle’s face, the face he had come to love, the face who rightfully owned his birthright, swam in front of him. Not as he’d seen her in the first few months, or even as she’d become the confident woman, the princess he’d always known she could be.

No.

The vision in his head was her hair on his pillow, the smile on her face as he woke up to find her watching him sleep, the just-kissed expression that he quickly came to love.

His stomach revolted, relieving him of the remains of his lunch.

“Kai?” Jessabelle’s voice floated through the air, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer her.

Her...his father’s daughter.

He...another man’s son.

She said once she’d felt like a hand-me-down when William refused to marry her.

Malachi wasn’t a hand-me-down.

He was a never-been.

His entire life predicated on the criminal actions of another man.

He’d always said he would never be like his father. He would never cheat on his wife. He would live up to the real vows and not the farcical ones taken in public. The ones his father had laughed over for so many years. The ones that led to his mother’s suffering.

The ones that meant he, Malachi, had no idea who he really was.

And he didn’t think he wanted to find out.

Chapter 35

“I owe you an apology.”

Jessabelle looked up from her seat on the bench in the garden to see the king standing next to her.

No.

Not the king.

Her
father
.

“What?” she finally replied.

He sat next to her. “I said something I rarely say. I owe you an apology. Several actually.”

She glanced sideways at him. “What do you owe me an apology for?”

“So many things.” He sighed and stared at his hands. “For not knowing you existed to start with.”

“Because having a daughter with your mistress would have done so much for the country’s faith in your ability to run the government as a man with the morals and wisdom to do so?” Jessabelle couldn’t believe she was bold enough to say that to his face, more or less.

“Well, no. In fact, it’s possible Alicia would have left me after all. You might be betrothed to Nicklaus instead of Yvette.”

In some ways that would be better. Nicklaus had died in a car accident many years earlier and Yvette would be able to choose her own husband after that.

“But it still saddens me that I did not get to see your first steps or hear your first word or see your first ballet recital.”

“I was never in ballet.” That would have meant being in front of people, and Jessabelle hadn’t done that. Ever. Until after she married Malachi.

“The point remains the same. I was not a part of your life.”

“I had a father who loved me very much.” A tear streaked down her cheek. “Did he know?”

“I cannot imagine he did. If so, he would not have allowed your marriage to Malachi.” The king leaned forward until his forearms rested on his knees. “I have something else to apologize for. The morning after your wedding, and several times afterward, I told Malachi to keep his distance from you, physically. I gave him permission to cheat on you, but told him to be discreet.” Before she could react, he went on. “He told me, in no uncertain terms, it was not an option. He asked me if I would tell William the same thing when he got married. Or if I would tell Yvette’s husband he could cheat on my little girl as long as he was discreet. I did not answer him then, but he did make me think. He is a far better man than I was at his age.” His voice softened. “A far better man than I am now.”

Jessabelle knew the truth of his words. “He is a good man. Because of you or in spite of you, he is a good man.”

There was a vulnerability in his next words that Jessabelle never expected to hear from the king. “But is he a good husband?”

A loaded question if there ever was one. “He is very kind and considerate,” Jessabelle answered slowly. “He has encouraged me to be the best person I can be but always known that I am not comfortable doing the princess-y things and made sure, except for the one time, that he was with me or at an event where I would be comfortable.” He’d also encouraged her to consider applying for college, though neither one of them had just yet, something her father had never done. It wasn’t a clear cut answer, but it was the best she could give.

He simply nodded.

It took everything in her to ask the next question. “You knew Malachi might not be your son, right?”

“Yes.”

A deep breath. “And you had no idea, none whatsoever, that I could be your daughter?”

He turned to look at her with the kindest look she’d ever seen from him. “No. I would never have allowed the wedding, but even more than that, even if I could not actually
be
your father, I would have made sure you were taken care of. I would have done more for your father because it would have made things easier for you, not because he was my old friend.”

Turmoil continued to stir her emotions. The king was her biological father. Breaking news to be sure, but it didn’t turn her world nearly as upside down as Malachi’s had just been. “Do you think he’s all right?” she whispered.

“I do not know. I hope so. I wish he would return. He may know the truth about his biology, but no one else does and neither does the elements. I fear what could happen to him.”

“What is there to do but pray?” She had been since he first ran off. Before, she’d still been in shock, though she believed God knew the whispers of her heart before she knew the words.

“Nothing, I suppose.” He looked back at his hands, clasped between his knees. “Security teams have left the grounds and are looking for him. Their instructions are to find him, but only to keep him in sight. To let him have some time to process this on his own.”

An assistant she didn’t know emerged from the garden’s walkway. After speaking for a moment, the king held out his hand to shake hers. Rather than that, he turned it over and kissed the back. “Pray for my son, Jessabelle. This is shaking the very foundation of who he believes he is. He is going to need you, now more than ever.”

“I have been praying, sir. I have no plans to stop.”

He looked directly at her for a moment before saying one more thing. “I know I have not treated you well since you married my son. I have no right to ask, but if you ever find yourself wanting to-either because of our biological relationship or because you are my daughter-in-law-I would be honored if you decided to call me ‘father’ or ‘papa’ as Yvette does.”

Jessabelle blinked twice then nodded, not sure enough of her thoughts to know what her reply would be. Call the king ‘papa’? She doubted she would ever convince herself to do so. He left with his assistant, and Jessabelle stood, walking back through the gardens until she reached the locked gate where Malachi must have climbed out.

She stared through it. He would have been close enough to hear her earlier when she’d called for him. There was little point in yelling now. He was either close enough to see her and know she was watching for him or too far away to hear.

The sun had begun to set before she turned and went back inside. She needed to eat. The gnawing hunger had begun some time earlier, but it had progressed until she could no longer ignore it.

With a last lingering glance at the woods beyond the gate, and with another whispered prayer, she turned to head inside.

* * *

Malachi was hungry.

But he refused to let his stomach weaken his resolve. He wasn’t ready to go back.

Instead, he hiked down the mountain and into town. Security followed him. They weren’t that good at hiding. More likely, they weren’t trying that hard. He walked into the first pub he found, probably the only one in town, and took a seat in a booth on the far side of the room.

A waitress set a menu in front of him. “Hi. I’m Benita. Do you need a few minutes to decide?”

He handed the menu back. “Give me whatever the house specialty is.”

“And to drink, sir?” He hadn’t looked up. Did she know who he was or was she just being polite?

“Whatever you’ve got.” He didn’t particularly care.

“Of course. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Malachi’s mind had spent all day trying to assimilate the new information until he’d finally reached his limit. Numbness set in an hour earlier as he continued to trudge downhill. Emotional numbness. He couldn’t process any more information or any more emotional trauma. A few minutes passed and the waitress set a beer down in front of him. After a sip, he realized it wasn’t a brand he particularly cared for, but he’d need to drink at least half in case someone recognized him. Otherwise, it would get out that he didn’t like it and the owner of the, likely local, brewery would blame him for a drop in sales.

After a few more sips, his meal was set in front of him. He murmured a thank you loud enough for the waitress to hear. The food was fine, but nothing exceptional. Odd. He’d eaten there before and quite enjoyed it. The waitress seemed to sense that he wanted to be left alone as she didn’t interrupt him at all. The food filled him up, but he knew he’d never really remember it later.

He thought about turning on his phone and checking the messages and texts sure to be waiting for him, but decided against it. What would they say that he didn’t already know?

Where are you?

Don’t embarrass the family.

Except you’re not really family except by marriage to a previously unknown daughter.

Don’t cheat on her. It was okay for you to when you were my son, but now that she’s my daughter, I expect you to treat her with the utmost respect.

His father’s voice reverberated through his head.

Changing his mind, he pulled the phone out and turned it on. Sure enough. Dozens of missed calls and text messages. He skimmed though most of them, but one caught his eye.

Please be careful. I know you’re upset. I am, too. But I need you to come home in one piece. I’m falling in love with YOU. Not the prince, but the man who’s been so kind to me for the last four months.

Jessabelle. He wanted to go back, to find her and hold on tight as he buried his head in her shoulder and tried to come to terms with his new reality. But how could he go back to her, knowing that she was the rightful heir to the Van Rensselaer name, to the title, to the fortune that came with it?

His own words haunted him.

There’s something I’ve had to learn over the years. My intrinsic value as a human being doesn’t come from who my parents are or the fact that my job title is Prince of Mevendia. My value as a human being comes from being a child of the King. Not my father, but my Heavenly Father. Your value doesn’t come in the title of princess you received on our wedding day. You have value because you are a child of the King. Your worth has to come from Him, not in your title or status here on earth.