Chapter 3 - Revealed
Book in hand I walk into the park. I take a look around and notice the many children playing with their parents. A smile reaches my face. They look so peaceful and content. Not a care in the world, simply enjoying spending time outside with their parents. How I wish I could be as carefree and just enjoy my life without any obstacles, but no, I have to go talk to a stranger about some “family issues”.
I look away from the children and see if I can spot Sir Bisalion. What a weird name. I don’t think he is from around here. He’s accent and appearance kind of reminds me of the French or Italian. But what do I know?
My head turns to the right and I see him sitting on a bench just as we agreed. He is looking at the lake in front of him. A man in a black suit and with black sunglasses walk up to Bisalion. He kind of reminds me of the Men In Black with the whole mysterious and serious look. MIB man leans in and whispers something in Bisalion’s ear. Bisalion turns his head and looks in my direction before his eyes land on mine. Well, no turning back now.
My feet start moving in their direction even though my mind is telling me that it would have been better for me to simply stay at home and celebrate my birthday with my mother and sister.
As I reach them Bisalion stands up and looks at me with a pleased look. He probably thought that I wasn’t going to show up. I thought about it, but that would be rude when I promised him that I would meet him here.
“Miss Reed,” he says while smiling at me. That’s the first time I have seen him smile. He should do it more often, then he wouldn’t be so scary. I’m glad he learned not to call me by my middle name. That middle name is not something I’m proud of. I don’t really know why, but the way my grandmother talks about our middle name, I think I just stopped using it so I wouldn’t offend my grandma.
“Sir Bisalion,” I say in a calm voice while sitting down on the bench. I look straight ahead at the lake. People are paddling in those bicycle boats, probably enjoying some of the last warmth of the year. The sun is actually peaking out behind the clouds. The last few weeks have been completely dark with all the clouds and rain. It’s pretty normal for this season, but I still miss the sun when it’s not here anymore. I smile to myself. It reminds me of that song “Let Her Go” by Passenger. In the song, it says “Only miss the sun when it starts to snow”. That’s exactly how I feel right now.
We still sit in silence although it’s been a few minutes. I decide to break the silence.
“Sir Bisalion, what is it that you want from me? Surely, you wouldn’t have bothered me if you have nothing to say.” I say surprising myself with my tone. It’s serious and calm, but with a hint of impatience.
“You are quite right Miss Reed.” He says while smiling at me. I actually think that I’m starting to like this guy. Beneath all the seriousness he seems like a loving and caring man. He must be a good husband to his partner.
“Alright, I’m listening. Although I would like it if we could make this quick. I would like to get home to celebrate with my family.” I say smiling back at him. My tone is a bit more friendly now.
By the look in his eyes, he doesn’t seem surprised by me wanting to leave and he doesn’t question me about what I want to celebrate. Almost as if he already knows.
“Very well. I would appreciate it if you can save the questions to after I’m done speaking” he says. I simply nod in agreement.
“I would like to start by telling you a story, and I promise it is relevant to what I want to talk to you about,” he says looking away for a moment, almost like he is making sure that nobody will be listening.
“About 40 years ago a young man fell in love with a young woman. The man was only 20 years old at the time, but he knew that the 19-year-old woman was the love of his life. They had only known each other for 6 months when they decided to marry, much to the dislike of the man’s family. The couple didn’t care. They were in love and knew that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. Not long after their wedding, the woman fell pregnant with a little boy. They were overjoyed and they loved their little son so much. Then a few years went by and the woman fell pregnant again with another little boy. The couple was very happy. But all good things must come to an end. When the oldest son was 4 years old a tragedy struck the family. The man’s older brother died in a car accident. The man and his wife were facing problems they never thought they would have to. You see the man was a prince and his brother had been the King. The former King wasn’t married and didn’t have any children meaning no heir to the throne. The next in line was his little brother. He was struck with the grief of losing his brother but also having to take over as King. It was a life he never wished to bring his wife and children into. As a result, the King agreed with his wife that the best option was for them to divorce and for her to leave with the children. Leave to her birth country where they could live normal lives. When the man became the new King his children became next in line for the throne. However, part of the agreement was that upon leaving the country they would all lose their titles and would never be able to regain them. The King was heartbroken that he had to watch his family leave him, but he knew that it was the right thing to do. That man is currently the King of the Kingdom of Monaco,” Bisalion finishes. I’m shocked about the outcome of the story. It’s so sad. I could not imagine watching the one you love the most leaving with your children and that you would never see them again.
“Did the children ever meet their father again?” I ask. I know he told me to wait with the questions, but I was too sad about the story and I had to know.
“No, never. They never knew who their father was. A part of the agreement. They would know nothing of the life they had before. At the time the King was very conflicted with his decision. He knew that he had a responsibility to the people of Monaco, as he was the last in line for the throne. But he also loved his family more than anything. In the end, he was the new King so he had to take on the responsibility of ruling over Monaco.” he says. I can clearly see the sadness in his eyes. This is a story that has a great impact on him personally. I just don’t know why.
Bisalion looks away from the lake and to me. He looks troubled like the whole story is taking a toll on him, but also with a look that says that he has much more to explain. He sighs and looks at the lake again. I simply sit there and give him a chance to gather his thoughts.
A few seconds later he looks at me again with a new determination in his eyes.
“The problem Monaco is currently facing is the fact that with the King’s children leaving there is no heir to the throne. However, 10 years ago the King found a loophole in the agreement. The King’s children were stripped of their titles and will never be able to regain them. However, the King’s grandchildren are not mentioned in the agreement, which means that the heir of Monaco must be found among the King’s grandchildren. So, for the last 10 years, the King has been keeping an eye on his grandchildren. About 5 years ago, it was decided that the first attempt at contact would be on the eldest grandchild’s 16th birthday. The eldest grandchild of the King is also the firstborn child of the King’s firstborn, directly making this grandchild the next in line for the throne,” he says. Now with a bit of nervousness in his voice like he was afraid of my reaction. I don’t see a reason why he is nervous about my reaction, he still hasn’t told me how any of this relates to me. Although with the seriousness he also shows, I’m guessing it’s going to be something crazy. I give him a confused look, hopefully telling him to carry on with his story.
He seems to take the hint.
“I forgot to tell you that upon leaving Monaco the children and the King’s former wife took on the last name King. A tribute to their royal father and birth country,” he says now looking at me with expecting eyes.
The realization of what he is saying is starting to creep into my mind despite how hard I try to resist those thoughts.
My father never knew his father. I have an uncle that’s 2 years younger than my father. My grandma never talked about my grandpa. My grandma’s last name is King. My father used to have the same last name until he met my mother and he took on her last name but keeping King as his middle name.
The final piece of the puzzle. Today is my 16th birthday.
I can feel the panic start to rise in my mind, and I try with everything in me to wake up from this dream that I don’t want to be true. It can’t be true. I don’t want it to be true.
Confirming my fears and my new nightmare Bisalion starts to speak again.
“I’m guessing by the look on your face that you figured it out. Miss King, you are the heir to the throne of Monaco. Your highness,” he finishes.
This explains why he insisted on using my middle name to address me at first. But I can’t do this. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes. But what stings the most is the betrayal I’m feeling. My grandma and I are so close and for her to keep something like this from me. It is one of the worst things she could have done. I trusted her to always tell me the truth and always have my back. Now I realize she has been lying to me my whole life, and about something that could completely change my life. My heart is beating faster as my head is spinning and trying to process all of the information that has been thrown at me in the last 15 minutes.
My vision starts to blur as the tears threaten to spill and I start seeing black dots, disturbing my once clear vision. This all too much for me to handle. I start feeling dizzy and I grab the bench beneath me as my lungs are desperately trying to breathe in the air. But no matter how much air enters my lungs, it seems like none of it is entering my bloodstream.
“Your Highness, are you alright?” I can faintly hear Bisalion asking me. But him using that title to address me makes everything worse. I grip my chest as the pain spreads from my lungs as a result of the lack of air.
My vision is now mostly black, not much light penetrates the darkness.
Within seconds everything is blackness and I can no longer hear the nature around me or the children playing with their parents. I can’t move my body and then everything just stop as I let go of the memory of my surroundings.
I slowly begin to regain consciousness. I can feel the surface beneath me. It is no longer the hard park bench, but it’s softer. I feel the surface move a bit, and I realize my head is placed in someone’s lap. My sense of smell returns and I can detect traces of a new car. However, the most distinct smell is also the most wonderful thing I have ever experienced. It’s the smell of a man’s cologne. It’s sharp but with sweetness. It reminds me of spring. When the flowers and trees are starting to blossom but occasionally there will be a cold wind, reminding everyone that the cold winter has passed but must be remembered as it always returns.
I can now hear some sounds. It’s the sound of a car moving and muffled voices. As I regain more of my consciousness I’m able to detect some of the things they are saying.
“... she doing?” one voice says.
“... still unconscious.” another man says. By the direction of his voice, I recognize this man as the one with the wonderful smell. His voice is just as wonderful as his smell. It’s strong but you can detect some hints of concern and tenderness.
I start to feel tired again, and I let everything go again. This time I don’t try to hang on to my surroundings. I feel safe in the arms of the man with the wonderful voice and smell.
The next time I start to regain consciousness, it’s much quicker. I’m immediately aware of my surroundings and I open my eyes. The light hurts at first but my eyes quickly adjust. I sit up and realize I was laying on a bed in what looks like a fancy hotel room.
“How are you feeling?” a man asks from beside me. I jump at the sound of his voice. I didn’t realize he was there. I look to my left where he is sitting.
The man is gorgeous. He has brown hair that is a bit longer on the top, and it’s styled with some kind of product, that makes it stand up a bit. He has these handsome blue almost grey eyes that are looking at me with concern. His face is strong and it’s like he was sculpted by god.
He smiles at me. The smile is just as handsome as the rest of him with the white teeth and the dimples at the corners of his mouth.
“Your Highness?” he asks again. Oh, sh*t. He clearly caught be staring, but how can I not. I mean he is practically a god with that body. I recognize the voice as the one from the car. My head was on this god’s lap. My cheeks start to warm as I blush at the thought of me being close to this man.
“Yeah, sorry. You just startled me,” I answer the body-god.
He smiles at me. Damn that smile. I know I am sitting on the bed but I can feel my knees becoming weak at the sight of this man.
“Excuse me, but could you tell me where I am?” I ask him. My common sense is telling me that I should be freaking out about not knowing where I am. But strangely I don’t. I think it might because of the body-god. He has this calm radiating off of him, and it’s making me calm.
“Of course Your Highness,” he says smiling at me again.
“You are in a hotel room, just a few minutes from the park where you talked with Sir Bisalion,” he explains.
Sadness reaches my mind. I still need to understand this whole situation. I feel like Bisalion only scratched the surface.
“Alright. Where is Bisalion?” I ask the body-god. Maybe I should learn his name instead of calling him ′body-god’. What if I let it slip at some point. That would be embarrassing.
“He is in the room through those doors,” he says while pointing to the double doors in front of the bed I am currently situated on.
“Thank you,” I say as I swing by legs over the edge of the bed getting ready to stand up. The body-god looks at me warily, almost like he is afraid I’m going to hurt myself. I try pushing him out of my mind. I need to resolve this ”heir to the throne” -situation.
I stand up and walk to the doors reaching out for the handle, getting ready to step through the doors. I feel nervous and on edge. I can do this I tell myself.