The Missing Monarch (4 page)

“Wait,
wait,” Monica interrupted him. “
You’d
already been named your father’s heir. And you have three
siblings. How could there have been any doubt—”

“There shouldn’t have been any doubt,” Thad explained. “That’s
why Octavian’s requests were so irregular.”

“So how could there be any question?”

“Given his power over the royal council, all he needed was for
me to renounce
my right to the crown so my father would name him successor. Then
the royal council would rubber-stamp their approval, and he would be
crowned.”

“But if he had so much influence over the government already,
why press for more? Why was he so determined to control the crown?”

Thad had puzzled over the same question for years, and finally
come to understand what was
driving Octavian. “Checkmate.”

Monica stumbled.

He caught her arm, and she met his eyes.

She opened her mouth to speak, but it took a moment for words
to come out. “He—he’s playing a giant round of chess with your family? He wants
to topple your father’s government, like it’s some kind of
game?
”

“He wants power. He was kicked out of competitive chess, but he
still wants to show the world he’s the best at the game.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Yes.” Thad trudged in the direction of Deadhorse. “He’s crazy
and powerful and determined.”

“And he has my son.” Monica’s voice dropped nearly to a
whisper.

Rather than let her think too much about Peter, and possibly
start sobbing all over again, Thad continued with his history of the
Octavian’s
schemes. “I thought by leaving, I’d made a decisive move that would keep him
from taking over the throne. My hope was that he’d eventually give up, or at
least turn his attention somewhere else.”

“But he didn’t give up.”

“Not nearly. Octavian tried various means to scare me out of
hiding, including pressuring my father into putting Kirk on trial for my
murder.
Kirk helped me disappear and was therefore the last person on earth to see me
alive. But I was never declared legally dead, and Kirk was exonerated.”

“But that took place years ago. Why is Octavian only coming
after you now?”

“Octavian is cunning. He tried other means to gain control of
Lydia. This recent ambush on my family has brought to light the many allegiances
he has formed in the intervening years, besides trying to gain control of the
government through my sisters. Remember, he was a chess master. He is used to
thinking several steps ahead of everyone else. I’m sure he has many moves up his
sleeve.”

* * *

Monica met Thad’s eyes and felt a cold fear engulf her,
as though everything inside her had turned as icy as
the arctic air around them.
Like trying to run in a nightmare, only to find herself unable to move, she felt
helpless, panicked, alone. Octavian was determined and powerful and three steps
ahead of them already. And he had Peter.

Monica blew out a long, tension-filled breath. It made her
crazy to think that her son was in the hands of such a power-hungry madman. On
top of that, she’d always resented how very little Thad had explained when he’d
abruptly left her. He’d kept his royal status a secret until just before their
wedding. He’d told her he was a prince the morning he married her. When he’d
left three weeks later, he’d explained the bare facts in a letter, rather than
tell her to her face that he was going into exile.

It
was Thad’s fault her son was gone. If he’d at least warned
her, at least tried to hide her, Peter would be safe. They could be hiding
somewhere, together. How could he have left her defenseless in the path of
Octavian’s determined march for power? She and Peter were being trampled on the
maniac’s drive toward the crown.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to
hold back the
tumultuous responses that warred inside her. “My son is gone because of your
stupid, selfish—” Unable to form words, she grabbed the front of his jacket and
shook him. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“It wasn’t selfish. I’ve been living beyond the edge of
humanity in order to save my people. That’s the opposite of selfish.” His hands
closed over hers
and stilled her shaking.

Monica tore her hands away. “You
jerk!
You
liar!
”

“I never lied to you.”

“In all the time I knew you, in the entire time we were
friends, even once we fell in love, you never mentioned that you were the heir
to the throne of a kingdom.”

“I told you my father was involved in the government.”

“He’s the
king
. That’s not the same
thing.”
Monica had worked out her feelings about his deception over the years
since Thad had been gone, and she wasn’t about to let him make excuses for what
he’d done. “You know what it comes down to, Thad? You didn’t respect me enough
to tell me who you really were. When I married you, I promised you my
everything—my present, my future, all that I am and all that I have. And you
didn’t even bother to tell me your real name until I was ready to walk down the
aisle.”

“Thaddeus is my real name.”

“You left off the Crown Prince of Lydia part.” She turned her
back to him and looked out at the bleak Alaskan landscape. Deadhorse sat in a
haze of fog in the distance, but there was no sign of a plane. She could only
pray they hadn’t missed it.
“If you had told me the whole truth, my son wouldn’t
have been kidnapped.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t understand who you’re dealing
with—”

“Because you never gave me a chance to understand. How can you
say that you left me to protect me, when you didn’t even warn me—”

“I warned you not to try to find me. How was I to know they’d
try to use you to get to
me?”

But Monica suddenly hit upon the answer. “They shouldn’t
have
to go through me and Peter to get to you. If you
hadn’t run away—”

“I ran to save my country.”

“No, you didn’t. You ran because you were scared. Your country
needs you. If you’d faced Octavian instead of hiding—”

“Nothing good could come of my facing Octavian. I did what I
had to do. I made the
best possible choice.”

“
This
is the best possible
choice?”

“I sacrificed six years of my life. Do you think living on the
edge of the earth has been easy?”

“No one’s had it easy, Thad. I’ve seen on the news what’s been
happening in Lydia. Your brother and sisters risked their lives, your father was
shot. Peter was kidnapped. Your son shouldn’t have to pay for
your
mistakes.”

“I agree. No son should have to pay for his father’s mistakes.
I tried to end what my father started.”

“You failed.”

Thad came around and stood in front of her. She didn’t want to
face him, but the pain in his eyes pulled at her heartstrings. His eyes were too
much like Peter’s. And she would never turn her back on her son.

“I never meant
to hurt you.” His voice had dropped to a
rumbling whisper, swollen with regret.

Monica fought back angry tears. When they spilled over in spite
of her efforts, she swiped them away, and stepped past Thad toward Deadhorse.
“You failed at that, too.”

* * *

Thad let Monica walk away.

She was right. In spite of all his sacrifices, in spite of his
exile, he’d
failed the one woman he cared about most in all the world.

He’d failed the son he’d never met.

Somehow, he had to make things right again, but he didn’t know
how. He’d done the best he could do, made every sacrifice he knew how to make,
and things had only gotten worse. It seemed Octavian was going to get his way,
no matter what he did. But he would do everything in his
power to keep his
country safe from this madman.

And he would give Monica back her son or die trying.

Dragging his exhausted feet forward, he caught up to her and
handed her his phone. “Here. Call your folks. Let them know what’s up.”

“Octavian said—”

“He said not to contact the authorities. Your parents already
said they were going to call the police. That will
only upset Octavian more. Try
to explain what’s up as best you can, and ask them to keep the authorities out
of it. Peter’s already out of police jurisdiction.”

Monica blew out a long breath and took the phone.

He listened with half an ear as Monica struggled to assure her
parents that she knew who had Peter, and she was going to get him back.

“I don’t know. It’s
quite complicated,” she explained, over and
again.

“Yes,” she admitted finally. “It
does
have to do with Lydia, actually. Pray for the kingdom of Lydia,
will you? I don’t think we’re going to get Peter back until the trouble in Lydia
is resolved.” She let out a very long sigh just as a plane cut through the fog,
landing on the Deadhorse strip between them and the outpost
town. “Please, I
have to go now. Just pray, okay?”

She closed the call and looked up at him with fear in her
eyes.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told her.

“Liar.”

Since there was nothing he could say to convince her otherwise,
Thad didn’t argue. They hurried toward the aircraft and climbed aboard the plane
in silence, settling into the bench seat that took
up most of the tiny cabin.
Monica scooted as far from him as she could get.

The pilot looked back at them, but said nothing before taking
to the sky again.

Wherever they were headed, Thad figured it couldn’t be too far
away. The man hadn’t even bothered to refuel.

From what Thad could tell by reading the plane’s instruments
over the pilot’s shoulders, they never
left the Arctic Circle. Somewhere between
Alaska and Russia they put down on an expanse of land that jutted upward like a
rotten tooth in the middle of the steel-blue sea.

Thad reached out his hand to help Monica disembark, but she
turned her back to him and hopped out on her own. He stepped down beside her and
looked around. In the middle of the gray crags of rocks, an
expansive sea of
concrete stretched toward a bunkerlike dwelling, its cement sides as bleak as
the sea and the dismal sky and the metallic scent of the air.

“Dear God, keep Peter safe,” Monica prayed in a whisper.

Thad had hurled enough unanswered prayers heavenward to know
better than to bother with something as futile as prayer. But at the same time,
he hated to
think of his young son being held on this gloomy rock. At best, he
hoped the young boy had fallen asleep after a full day of play. After all, the
hour was well past midnight, though the perpetual light of the Arctic summer
illumined even the nighttime sky with its twilit, green-tinged glow.

Armed guards approached them, their uniforms the same gray as
the concrete, the
rocks and the thin fog of the air they breathed.

“This way.” One of them spoke in a voice devoid of emotion, and
Thad stepped forward, tempted to reach for Monica’s hand, but she didn’t look at
him as she followed the guards.

Wide double doors welcomed them into an open foyer where
interior balconies circled the antechamber in a manner that reminded him of a
prison.
Footsteps echoed above them, and Thad looked up to see a man approaching
the stairs, flanked by more uniformed guards.

Octavian wore a gray suit. His face was an unnatural orange,
his slicked-back hair too dark for his age, his hairline lower than Thad
recalled it being at the last meeting. His jawline was tighter, too. So, he’d
had hair plugs and a face lift. Thad wasn’t
surprised. If there was a medical
procedure that could make him taller, no doubt Octavian would have had it
done.

“You were foolish to think you could run from me, Thaddeus of
Lydia.” Octavian’s voice echoed as he stood high above them at the top of the
stairs. “Haven’t you realized, I
always
get my way?
All you’ve accomplished with your ill-advised game of hide-and-seek
is to make
me upset. Now things will be more difficult for you and more painful for your
family.”

Octavian took a few steps down the wide staircase, and paused.
“Now, you have a choice. You can cooperate with me, or you can invite more pain
upon your wife and son.” He held up a small device, and a light illumined behind
a pane of glass near where they stood. In its
sudden glaring light, Thad saw a
room with a sofa, and the figure of a young boy draped across the pillows.

“Peter!” Monica rushed toward the glass.

Immediately the guards stepped in front of her, their automatic
rifles barring her way.

She looked up at Octavian again. “Is he okay?”

“He is fine.
For now
. Whether he
remains that way is up to your husband.”

Thad couldn’t help wondering how the man knew that he and
Monica were married, or how the egomaniac had found out about Monica and Peter
in the first place. But that question was eclipsed by his concern for Peter and
what Octavian might threaten to do to him.

“Now, Thaddeus.” Octavian took a few more steps down the
staircase, though he still towered high above them. “You
don’t have a history of
making wise choices, but I’m hoping your time away from civilization has given
you an opportunity to repent of your erroneous ways.”

Rather than let the arrogant man blather on, insulting him and
wasting precious time, Thad cut to the chase. “What do you want?”

“The same thing I’ve always wanted. I want the kingdom of
Lydia.” He chuckled and
raised his arm, pointing a signal at the guards who
barred Monica from getting any closer to the room where her son slept. The men
deftly stepped around her, effectively cutting her off from Thad. Now they
didn’t even have each other.

Thad realized, too late, that he’d found the tiniest measure of
comfort having her beside him, even if she was furious with him. Now he
didn’t
even have that.