A/N: It occurred to me in the course of writing this that if you've been trying to send me a message through this site, it won't have reached me. For some reason and Juno don't get along, and my primary e-mail is through Juno. So if you have any story ideas or thoughts for plotlines or anything else, you can let me know in a review, or if you have my e-mail address, just send a message directly to me. Meantime, here's the latest. Thanks to jtbwriter, Kyryn, Harry2 and Bishop T, and special thanks to PDXWiz for assistance with the Latin and with naming the bad guy. Enjoy, all!

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§ § § -- March 6, 2004

"Did the triplets allow you to sleep last night?" Roarke asked his daughter, half in concern, half in jest. The news that Christian and Leslie would become parents to three at one shot had been a hot potato that the Enstads couldn't at first figure out how to handle. They had finally gone to Roarke and told him; after his amazement had subsided a bit, he'd suggested that Christian tell his family in confidence, then give Myeko an exclusive scoop on the news and update the royal website immediately after she was finished interviewing them. They had done as he'd suggested, and now the royal site was generating more hits than Christian had ever seen it do on a daily basis. They had made light of the situation, but Leslie's pregnancy was beginning to take its toll on her now that she had started her sixth month. She was more easily exhausted and had developed the habit of taking an afternoon nap; her abdomen had started to itch because the skin was stretching from growth of the uterus; and she felt the occasional tingling feeling in her hands.

Roarke had asked the question because, as if on a signal, a day or two after her last appointment with Dr. Hannaford, the babies had begun a nightly ritual of kicking Leslie just when she most desperately wanted to fall asleep. He got an eye-roll from her and a wry grin from Christian, who stood beside her. "They kicked so much they rocked the bed slightly, and even I had trouble getting to sleep," he remarked. "I can only imagine what they must be doing to poor Leslie."

"I feel like their personal football," she muttered, and Christian and Roarke laughed sympathetically. "Not even five and a half months, and I'm starting to wish this were all over with already. But Dr. Hannaford wants to try to keep me pregnant till past my birthday at least." She groaned and rubbed her stomach. "Two more months. I'm counting the days."

"She's begun scheduling Leslie's appointments for every two weeks now, rather than every four," Christian said. "It's come far enough now, and there are enough babies waiting for us to start caring for them, that we're beginning to take each day individually. Looking ahead is too draining."

Roarke nodded. "Quite understandable," he said. "Perhaps it will help to begin thinking of ways to decorate their bedrooms, discussing possible names…"

"Oh, the name game," Christian groaned and laughed with some resignation. "Leslie tends to think of English names and I tend to think of Scandinavian ones. So far, the only thing we've agreed on is that if there are boys, none of them will be a junior."

"Exactly," said Leslie. "I think a boy should have his own name and not just sound like a shadow of his father. And Christian's experience with King Arnulf the First and King Arnulf the Second should be enough explanation for his attitude."

On the laughter that generated, Christian kissed Leslie, made her promise to tell him promptly if anything untoward should occur, and drove away to work. Roarke and Leslie got into the car that came around for them, and in a few minutes they stood side by side at the plane dock, with Leslie enduring interested glances from the native girls. She looked at Roarke and observed, "They must think I'm getting bigger by the week, because they keep staring at my gut."

"Try to take it as a sign of concern," Roarke suggested. "Everyone on the island is watching your pregnancy, and undoubtedly so is everyone in Lilla Jordsö."

"Ugh," moaned Leslie, and he grinned as their first guest came down the docking ramp: a very pretty Hispanic woman around Leslie's age. He gestured to her.

"Do you recognize this lady, perchance?" he asked.

Leslie squinted at her. "She does look familiar," she murmured.

"She should," said Roarke. "That is Paloma Esperanza, former child actress, who portrayed Glorrie on your favorite television series, 'King's Castle'."

Leslie gasped, "Oh my God, it is! Is she here alone?"

"Yes," Roarke said and peered at her askance. "Were you expecting someone else to accompany her? I thought you knew what had happened to the other cast members."

"Well, as much as was ever revealed," Leslie said and began to tick off on her fingers. "Meredith Hansen—Dawn—died of leukemia three years after the show was canceled. Mason Chen—Chang—was murdered a year after that…they say by a gang member. Damian Mullawney—Harry—disappeared right after Mason Chen was killed, and no one knows what happened to him. And Carson Howland Casey went into seclusion in some undisclosed location."

Roarke nodded. "That's quite good," he said, "but as always, there are things you and the rest of the world don't know. Even Miss Esperanza doesn't know." His voice sounded a little ominous, and when Leslie turned to look at him, he simply introduced the next guests. She sighed gently and wondered what mysteries would be solved that weekend, while Roarke raised his glass and delivered the welcoming toast Leslie had heard every week for so many years. She could hardly wait to talk to one of her childhood idols.

‡ ‡ ‡

Paloma Esperanza, it turned out, was ostensibly on the island to tape an interview for the upcoming DVD, talking about her experiences on the television series, and told Roarke when she came in, "I'm really glad the producers picked your island to do the interview, Mr. Roarke. What a beautiful place. I used to wonder if we'd ever get to film an episode here, but we never got that lucky." She grinned at Roarke's chuckle.

"I am delighted," he said. "Why don't you sit down. Would you care for some refreshment?" Paloma shook her head, and he gave a nod. "You may have heard of my daughter, Leslie Enstad…"

"I have," Paloma said. "You got kind of famous once you married Prince Christian, you know. When I read the initial interview you and he gave, the day after your wedding, I thought 'King's Castle' should have done an episode based on your life. The orphaned girl without anyone left, moving to this little paradise, marrying a prince and now expecting triplets. Of course, from what I've learned since then, you're sick of the fame."

Leslie grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged. It might interest you to know that I'm a huge fan of the series. It started the year before I was orphaned; but once I learned what the premise was, I was interested. After I came here I was hopelessly hooked, because the characters' situations sounded kind of like mine—four homeless orphans adopted by a lonely, crusty rich man with no family."

"We actually have fans left?" Paloma kidded, and they all laughed. "That's great to hear…thank you. I'm sure Mr. Roarke was neither lonely nor crusty—"

Leslie laughed delightedly. "No, you couldn't say that! But it took us a while to warm up to each other, and in those first days I really felt a kinship with the characters on the show. Incidentally, my husband watched it too."

"No kidding," said Paloma and shook her head. "I miss the old days sometimes. We had such a good time doing the series, and Carson Howland Casey was a mentor to me. We learned so much from him. Everybody thought he was like Abernathy King on the show, but in real life he was completely opposite of that." She looked at Roarke. "When Meredith and then Mason died, he called me both times and we cried over the phone together. Then Damian disappeared, and I was afraid something was going to happen to me next, so I made the decision to stop auditioning. And shortly after that, Howie disappeared too." She noted Roarke's and Leslie's odd looks and explained, "That was Carson Howland Casey's nickname. He was very particular about whom he let use it. Anyway, the story goes that he's a recluse now, and nobody's heard of him in over ten years."

Leslie nodded. "I remember that. The series ended in 1984 after its eighth season, and then in 1987 Meredith Hansen died. Mason Chang was killed in 1988."

"Right," said Paloma. "Before the year was out, Damian vanished, and by the next Valentine's Day Howie had sequestered himself somewhere. Someone ferreted him out a few years later, and he caused a minor flare-up because he cursed out all the reporters who tried to get some comments out of him…said some really nasty things. That was back in April of 1992. No one's heard a word from him since then."

"I always thought it was strange," Leslie remarked. "I used to keep an eye on celebrity news, hoping for something else on the 'King's Castle' cast, but no word ever came out."

Paloma smiled ruefully. "I was keeping a low profile myself," she said. "We were lucky, actually. Howie was a very shrewd investor and gave our parents some great advice. It helped keep Meredith's parents from going bankrupt when she got sick, and the money provided decent homes for Mason's and Damian's families. And I've been able to live on my investment dividends, since my parents died about eight years ago." She sighed and turned to Roarke. "Two things brought me here. The first was my decision to start writing my biography, about my experiences on 'King's Castle' and with the others on the show, and what show business is like in general, things like that. The other was when the owners of the series in syndication contacted me and asked me to do an interview for the DVD. I was thrilled at the chance, especially after they said they had contacted you, Mr. Roarke, and asked if it could be done here."

Roarke smiled back. "I'm very happy to know that, Miss Esperanza…but there is another reason you were asked to come here." He settled back in his chair and glanced back and forth between Paloma and Leslie before smiling a little in his daughter's direction. "Do you recall the abrupt and rapid sale of the Lightwood-Wynton mansion just about twelve years ago, Leslie?"

She cast back for a moment, then nodded with sudden recognition. "It was a strange event," she said. "You didn't say who bought it…it was all very hush-hush."

"With good reason," Roarke said. "The purchaser was none other than Carson Howland Casey."

Paloma and Leslie both stared at him. "Then Howie's here?" Paloma exclaimed.

"And he's been here for all these years and no one ever knew it?" Leslie put in.

"Indeed he has," Roarke confirmed. "He asked that the sale be private and carried out as rapidly as legalities would allow, so that he could take immediate refuge here. I saw him only once myself, and he insisted that everything be kept secret. He wanted no publicity, no word of any kind. That's why I never told you, Leslie."

"Does he know I'm here?" Paloma asked.

"No, he doesn't," Roarke said gently. "However, perhaps you will be the key to his rejoining the world, Miss Esperanza."

Paloma leaned forward in her chair. "So you'll let me see him, then?"

Roarke nodded. "I must caution you," he said, "I cannot guarantee that he will agree to see you, and I don't know what sort of disposition he has or what his physical condition is. I know only that he is possibly the most reclusive inhabitant I have ever had on my island." He looked thoughtful. "He has a bare skeleton staff working for him, as I understand it, and all his needs are provided for by them, so that he need never venture outside his home. I don't think such a lifestyle is good for him, quite honestly; but I have respected his wishes through the years, and only your arrival on the island provokes consideration of any breach of those wishes. Your visit may be precisely what he needs to come out of seclusion…or it may be the catalyst that drives him to even deeper isolation."

Paloma blinked, swallowed visibly and slowly sank back in the chair. "That puts a big burden on my shoulders, Mr. Roarke," she remarked dubiously.

"If you prefer, you may merely conduct the interview for the DVD," Roarke said, "and leave here after it's complete."

Paloma frowned and shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "Now that I know Howie's here, I really want to see him. He's the only other cast member still living, and since my own parents are gone now, I think he's the last link with one of the happiest parts of my childhood." She focused wryly on Roarke. "Besides, the producers seem to think that if anyone can talk Howie into agreeing to an interview for the DVD, it'd be me. Not that I had much chance of it. After all, till just now I didn't even know where he was."

Roarke smiled. "Then you do wish to make the attempt?"

"Yes, I want to try," Paloma said. "I think it'll be worth it if I can get in to see him."

"Very well, then," Roarke said and smiled. "Leslie will take you there, and if you have any questions at all, you might ask her. I suspect she in turn will have some for you."

Paloma grinned. "I'd love to talk about the show. I don't meet too many people who want to discuss it. Maybe I was typecast, and maybe Glorrie will haunt me for the rest of my life. But I don't really resent it. The show was good to me, and I'm grateful. So I'm glad to meet a fan, and I'll do whatever I can to make the DVD better."

"That's terrific," Leslie said with enormous anticipation. "If you don't mind, we could take a quick detour to Christian's and my house so I can get my autograph book. I'd be so thrilled if you'd sign it."

Paloma giggled and said, "Sure, I'd be happy to! Is it far?"

"Christian and Leslie live in a somewhat remote residential area known as the Enclave," Roarke explained, "and Mr. Casey's home is located there; so it won't be very far out of the way for either of you. Before you go, Miss Esperanza, you may wish to freshen up and rest. With Leslie's pregnancy, I have begun curtailing some of her activities, and since her doctor has lately prescribed additional rest periods, I think it best if both you and she relax for a time before you make the trip there."

"I think that'll be fine," Paloma agreed. "Thank you, Mr. Roarke."

When she had left, Leslie rubbed her stomach where one of the triplets had just delivered a kick and remarked, "Maybe this fantasy will help distract me a little from all the sudden discomfort I'm starting to have." Roarke grinned and handed her a stack of letters across the desk, then reached for the phone.