She spread her feet wider, hands on hips. Braced for…well, whatever sort of reaction he might throw at her. Kelsey was certain she was about to cross a line with the king, but it was her own personal line in the sand.
“I can’t connect with a new father when the one I know and love is in prison and not allowed to communicate with me.”
He didn’t immediately beckon the bodyguards trailing them up to drag her back to her room. Didn’t even look the least little bit mad. If anything, King Julian looked…intrigued.
“I hadn’t thought of that. My own fault, really. I’m used to advisors filling in the gaps. But I didn’t ask anyone for advice on how to deal with you. It felt wrong. You’re my daughter; therefore, I ought to instinctively know what to do.”
Well, if he could admit he was wrong, Kelsey could throw him a bone. Why had she assumed everyone else was handling this belly-wallop of a life change better than she was?
“The last time you saw me, you only had to know if I was hungry or needed my diaper changed. We’ve both got a lot to learn about how to communicate with each other.”
“That’s quite gracious of you,” he said with what might be the leading edge of a smile on his lips.
“I’m told that’s the hallmark of being a royal,” Kelsey sassed back. Hey, if he was going to play the dad card, he’d have to get used to some sass.
A deep, baritone rumble of a laugh rolled melodiously out. Huh. The king sounded like he might have one heck of a singing voice. “Sir Evan’s been getting through to you, I see.”
“He tries. I try. We both get frustrated.” She rolled her eyes, grinning. “And then we break for lunch and do it all again.”
“I also see that it pains you to think of the Wishners being held in custody. Moncriano is not the only interested party, however. Interpol is running the investigation. They’re coordinating with several international agencies. At this point, my request alone would not be enough to get them released.”
“Seriously?” Kelsey fought back the temptation to scuff the toe of her boot across the path in frustration. “What’s the good of having an in with a king if not to get people you love out of jail? I’m not asking you to throw around your power like a Bond villain. I just want to talk to them.”
“The good news is that I hear the investigation is almost over.”
Hope gushed into her heart. “They’re free to go?”
The king spread his hands wide, palms up. “I’m sorry, Kelsey. I honestly couldn’t say. What I can tell you is that so far, as far-fetched as it is, the official inclination is to believe their version of events.”
“What does that mean?” Because it sure didn’t sound like an “all-clear, come on over to the palace and visit your daughter any ’ol time” statement from her new dad to her other dad…
“It means that the persons who physically took you from us were not the Wishners. What happened after that, and their choices that led to you being raised as their daughter…well, I leave that story for them to share with you.”
“So I can talk to them?”
“I will make the request. That is all I can promise.” He paused, and then continued. “They have been treated better than most suspicious persons. The House of Villani made it clear they were to be accorded additional courtesies and accommodations. Whatever else they did, the Wishners loved you and fed you and treated you like a daughter. They raised you to be a woman whom I am honored to welcome back into our family.”
He made it sound as though they would’ve been subjected to waterboarding had he not stepped in.
For all Kelsey knew, that was indeed the case. Talk about an act of graciousness. She knew her parents weren’t kidnappers. But King Julian didn’t. To put his bitterness and suspicion aside out of sheer gratitude for them keeping her safe all this time?
Well, that got to her more than any of Sir Evan’s lectures about the meaning of royalty. That was grace. It made her want to be that kind, that understanding, less judgmental. More…noble.
More like her father.
“Thank you.” She gave him a hug, the one for which she’d ached at the emptiness at not receiving when they first met. Maybe the king wasn’t a hugger, but that’d be another thing they’d have to compromise on, then.
After a moment, he surprised her by not just relaxing into it. King Julian bent down to tuck his head next to hers, and wrapped his arms tight around her in a rib-cracking, breath-stealing hug.
“Would you like to say hello to Branko? You don’t have to ride him, but he was told he’d be visited by a pretty woman who’d bring him a treat.” The king pulled a baggie of baby carrots from his jacket pocket and shook it in front of her.
“It’d be rude to stand him up,” Kelsey said.
As they approached the wooden fence, the king spoke again. “Your mother’s grandparents were from Romania. She called her father Tata, in their language. Would that be an acceptable compromise for you to use, just between us? As you get used to me?”
“I like that.” The connection to the mother she’d never known made it special. A way to honor her memory, too.
“I wouldn’t suggest calling the grand duchess by anything but her title. Until she says otherwise,” Julian warned in a low voice.
“Does she scare you, too?”
“She’s my mother-in-law. Of course she does.”
It was a start. A good start. Either to staying, or…
To building a bridge that would sustain them once she went home. For good.
Chapter Sixteen
Elias didn’t get choked up at sad movies. After all, he was a soldier, a defender of his country. But right now? Standing next to Mallory on a square of grass that made a checkerboard pattern alternating with the paving stones in the sunny courtyard? He might actually lose it.
Because his father was talking to Kelsey.
His father, who’d been buried under guilt at losing her for decades. Who’d sloughed off all self-respect and trust.
Even though the royal family never blamed him, Albert saw himself as wholly to blame. The man had raised him with a single-minded purpose—that Elias’s service to the House of Villani might, eventually, atone in a tiny way for the loss of their daughter. That Elias could atone for Albert’s biggest mistake. Neither of them, however, had believed that Elias would not just atone, but fix it.
This was a moment neither of them thought they’d ever see.
“You need a tissue?” Mallory pulled her sunglasses down her nose to look over their rims at him. “Or is one only allowed to use crisply ironed handkerchiefs inside the walls of the palace?”