A/N: The final installment of this story arc. I'm very glad to see that you've been enjoying this tale and I hope the conclusion will be up to the setup! Thanks as ever to PDXWiz, jtbwriter, Harry2, Bishop T and all other readers and reviewers.
§ § § -- September 19, 2004
The talk show was almost over, and Leslie was somewhat relieved. Even the presence of bodyguards from Gerhard's friend's security company hadn't completely convinced her that they were safe. She had tried at dinner the previous evening to back out of bringing the triplets and appearing with them on the program; and when Christian had loyally, if a touch reluctantly, told his family that he wouldn't appear if she didn't, Carl Johan and Anna-Laura had spent some fifteen minutes talking Leslie back into it. Gerhard had chimed in with his complete trust in his friend's employees; and Margareta had said, blunt as ever, that it was ridiculous for her to go around scared for the rest of her life.
Finally Christian had turned to Leslie and said, "Listen, my Rose, I know you're not going to believe this…but I'd actually like to appear on that show."
She had stared at him in astonishment. "Why?"
"To get the people's help," he'd said. "If those maniacs who tried to disrupt the ceremony this afternoon are still on the loose, perhaps we can ask that people watch for them and report any sightings to the police."
"It makes sense, Leslie," Michiko had said. "From all I've ever heard, the population here is crazy about Christian, and by extension, you and the triplets. If they think there's any threat to any of you, they'll do all they can to prevent it."
Leslie had finally acceded to their wishes, but it hadn't dispelled her misgivings. She had asked Christian apprehensively if there was any need for her to answer questions, and he had told her that if she was asked any, the questions and her answers would be in English and subtitled in jordiska for the viewers. "You've gone paranoid, my Leslie Rose," he had told her with gentle reproval, holding up her chin with an index finger. "If you do that, you'll be letting those mystery assailants win. There are far more people with you than against you, you know. Give them a chance to help, and for fate's sake, don't let your nervousness show. In any case, we leave for Fantasy Island tomorrow, so stay calm."
That had been shortly before the live program had gone on the air, and Christian had been right; she'd been asked only a few questions, all of them in English. Otherwise, she just sat with Karina and Susanna on her lap, with Christian beside her holding Tobias on his; the babies were dressed in the outfits they had worn at the re-crowning ceremony the day before. They had been remarkably cooperative thus far; Leslie suspected it was due to their fascination with all the stage lights. Every time she looked at one of the babies, their eyes would be fixed on some bright light somewhere.
At last the interviewer wrapped up the program and the audience began to applaud; the host took a few minutes to admire the triplets and to pretend to shake each baby's hand by letting them grab his finger, then gently pumping up and down. The director signaled that they were off the air, and the clapping died down; then an announcement, which Christian translated for Leslie, was made to the audience. "They're going to have people line up now so that everyone can have a chance to see the babies up close," he said, "and I suspect they'll say something at least to me, perhaps also to you, depending on whether they can speak English."
"What if one of those maniacs is in the audience?" Leslie finally voiced the fear that had been nagging at her throughout the show.
"Even if they are, they won't be able to do anything," Christian said. "Everyone who attended today has been screened for weapons, and I'm told nothing was found. And if one of them came in without weapons, he still wouldn't get far—too many people would be around to stop him. Leslie, enough is enough, all right?"
She realized he was beginning to lose patience, and bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she said and looked away. "It's only…as long as we're still here, I'm scared."
Christian turned her head back to face him. "We'll talk about it later," he said. "Right now, you need to put on a mask; it's one of the little tricks you'll have to master now that you're a public figure. Lose some of that suspicion, be gracious…and for fate's sake, smile!"
"I'll take Susanna for you, Leslie," Amalia offered, lifting Susanna from Leslie's lap even as she spoke. Christian stood up, and Leslie sighed to herself, following his example. She could only hope she'd feel better once they were in the air and on their way home. The previous day's incident had scared her, in a way she hadn't been afraid since the last time she and Roarke had faced Mephistopheles. She quirked her mouth to herself. Too bad Mephistopheles hasn't taken the benighted souls of whoever was in on yesterday's plot!
Joining Christian, Carl Johan, Amalia and Anna-Laura at the front of the stage, where a low wall separated it from the audience-seating area, she plastered a smile on her face and hoped it looked genuine enough to fool the people. As it happened, the triplets were the real attraction; and while people congratulated Christian and Leslie, they focused mainly on the babies. After a little while Leslie's spirits began to lift of their own accord, for the things people did in an attempt to get the babies to smile were sometimes hilarious.
Once their limo had gotten on the road for the trip back to the castle, Amalia let out a laugh that she must have wanted to release for some time. "People are so funny!" she said mirthfully. "Did you see the faces some folks made, trying to make one of the triplets smile at them? I was afraid I would burst sometimes."
"I think my favorite was the one who stuck his thumbs in his ears, waggled his fingers and crossed his eyes at Tobias," Leslie remarked, and at that they all laughed.
"That would have made a program in and of itself," Carl Johan agreed, chuckling. "It's still true—no matter where babies go, they always steal the show."
"You seemed nervous during the program, Leslie," said Anna-Laura. "Are you all right now? It looked as if you finally relaxed when people were coming up to see the babies."
"It was…just nerves from being on live TV," Leslie said lamely. That got her a sharp look from Christian, but he didn't say anything.
At the castle Carl Johan caught him long enough to ask him a couple of questions, allowing Leslie to go ahead to the suite and put the sleepy girls in their cribs. She'd just started changing into jeans and a sweater when Christian came in. "Well, I'll admit to being glad that's over," he said, crossing the room to put Tobias down for his nap.
"Mmm," Leslie mumbled, tugging her sweater over her head.
He was silent; when her head finally emerged from the sweater she blinked to find him standing right in front of her, watching her, his face solemn. She sighed deeply. "Okay, go ahead and scold me, now that we've gotten through it and no one molested us, and there's no one around to stop you from calling me on the carpet."
Christian sighed in his turn, rolling his eyes simultaneously. "Leslie, there's such a thing as being too careful," he said. "All precautions that could be taken were taken. Now that one thing has happened, you're expecting something equally bad, or perhaps worse, around every corner. You can't live like that!"
"That's funny that it's coming from you," Leslie said, feeling slightly betrayed. "You're always the one who wants to avoid publicity, after all."
"Leslie, there's a fine line between reluctance and paranoia," said Christian, "and I think you've crossed it. It's one thing to be publicity-shy; it's another to actively suspect everyone you meet of something criminal. I was going to suggest that we take that museum tour we missed last week, but I don't expect I should bother. You'll probably refuse on the grounds that that's where our would-be assailants are hiding." He turned away to change his own clothes, and for a moment Leslie stared at him.
"Yeah," she finally said flatly, "I guess you're right. I'm just an overprotective mother who never wants to leave my house again, or let my children out of my sight, till they turn twenty-one. I'll be a terrified hermit for the rest of my life, all right. You certainly have me pegged. Enjoy your tour, since you're so sure I don't want to go."
Christian's sigh this time was clearly one of exasperation. "What other conclusion do you expect me to draw, after your sudden terror in the wake of that incident?"
"My God…you really do think I'm that paranoid!" Leslie exclaimed. Her disbelieving annoyance began to boil into outright anger. "Thanks a lot, Christian!" She strode from the room and swiftly climbed the stairs, taking advantage of his half-clothed condition to make her escape. The landings between floors connected the flights of stairs from both the east and west corridors, so that she was able to run into the east-corridor stairway and back to the first floor. It was her hope to find the castle library; she remembered having seen it only once before, on her first visit to the castle just before Arnulf's death, when Christian had taken her on an abbreviated tour of the north wing.
In the east corridor she encountered a few servants and decided to take the chance that perhaps at least one of them spoke English. "Excuse me…where's the library?"
Most of them stared blankly, though they did bow or curtsy to her; but one girl, whom Leslie recognized as the page who had held the pillow with the pins the day before, smiled. "I will show you, Your Highness," she said. "Please follow me." She led Leslie down the hallway, past what Leslie knew to be the sitting room and then three or four other doors before pausing in front of the next. "It is here, Your Highness. May I assist you to find something inside?"
"Oh, no, thank you," Leslie said, "I just want to look around awhile." The page curtsied, smiled again and left her, and Leslie slipped through the door, taking care to close it behind her. Then she turned, and her mouth dropped open in amazement. The library was simply enormous—almost as big as Fantasy Island's public library in Amberville. The room stretched out in both directions, outfitted from floor to ceiling with bookcases on all four walls. As far as she could see, all the shelves bore at least some books, and many were full. Six large windows on the outside wall let in plenty of daylight and provided inviting window seats in which to curl up and read. Leslie, who had always liked books, found herself having to squash a surge of covetousness. "What a place!"
"It is lovely, is it not?" someone agreed, and she jumped violently and whipped her head back and forth. A sheepish laugh came from somewhere; then she saw Liselotta arise from the far end of a long table at her right. "I am sorry, Leslie, I frightened you!"
Leslie sagged against the door with relief. "You did scare me. Oh brother, it's a good thing Christian didn't see that. He'd only have more fuel for the fire."
Liselotta approached, looking a little confused. "I am sorry. My English becomes better slowly. There is so much I cannot understand. What fire do you mean?"
Leslie hesitated a moment, then took a breath and asked straight out, "Are you ever afraid of some crazy person coming from nowhere and maybe taking one of your children?"
"Oh." Liselotta smiled wryly, her gaze drifting off somewhere. "Always, with us, there were 'crazy people' who wanted to do strange things. We often find teenagers outside, young people who just come to stand in our garden…forgive me, I meant 'yard'…because their friends dared them to go near the crazy, scary Liljefors family." She looked at Leslie and her expression sharpened. "Gerhard would get warnings when he and I were seeing each other. When he announced that we were to be married, he had many…threats, people who would say they wished to murder me so that he would not be ruined by one of the Liljefors witches. When I was pregnant with Matteus, people expected me to run back to Liljefors Slott with the baby. Even here in the castle, the servants look strangely at me, make whispers about me, walk far away from me in the halls. It made Gerhard very angry, and my fear grew and grew, until I even wondered once if perhaps Gerhard wished he had never met me."
Leslie gaped at her. "Did you ask him?"
Liselotta nodded and said, "I remember one day when it seemed every servant in the castle had treated me badly. Gerhard was upset, and I was unhappy, and I didn't understand the reason he was upset. So I asked him if he wanted to divorce me. Oh, Leslie, he was so angry then. It's the only time I have ever seen him be angry with me. He told me I must never think such things again, and that if I do, it insults him because it means I do not trust his love for me. It made me cry, because I knew he was right. I often do not trust the people around me, but I always trust my Gerhard."
"You sound like me and Christian," Leslie mumbled. "Or at least, the way I should be with Christian, I guess." She looked up. "I mean…ever since that incident yesterday, I've been afraid to go anywhere for fear those maniacs will show up again and try to harm me or Christian or the babies. It's stupid, I know. We don't even know exactly who those people were targeting. Maybe it wasn't anyone in the family at all—who knows? The two people who could tell us are both in the morgue."
"Yes, that is true," said Liselotta with sympathy.
"But Christian thinks I'm paranoid," Leslie said. "I didn't want to do that talk show, and half the family had to talk me back into it last evening. Then I was afraid one of those maniacs would be in the audience, and Christian kept telling me they had screened the people who came to the show, and that if anyone did try anything, they wouldn't get very far. But I still wasn't sure."
"It would be true," Liselotta said gently. "Gerhard's friend is very, very good at his job. He has only men who are also very good at the job and will do everything to protect us. And it is a large company, Leslie. You see, the royal family is very popular here, and Christian is perhaps most popular of the whole family. Perhaps it means a little more danger for us, but it also means that the people will try much harder to protect their rulers."
"So I am being paranoid," Leslie muttered, turning away and wandering slowly across the room. "I'm going to turn into a smothering, hovering, terrified mother who never lets her children leave the house, even to go to school. I'm pathetic."
Liselotta giggled and began, "I think I can understand…" Her voice cut off suddenly, and Leslie heard the door open at the same time. She turned and went still when she saw Christian in the doorway. "Hello, Christian," Liselotta said.
Christian glanced at her and smiled briefly. "Hello, Liselotta. Forgive me if I'm disturbing you, I was only looking for Leslie."
"I will go and find Gerhard," said Liselotta, and started for the door. To Leslie, as she passed her, she whispered, "I wish you good luck." She slipped out, and Christian closed the door after her, then stood where he was and regarded Leslie.
After a moment she said, "I thought you were going to the museum."
"I decided it was more important to find you," Christian said, settling his weight on one foot and casually stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Have you had a chance to think a little, then?"
"Not so much think as talk," Leslie replied with a self-conscious shrug. "Liselotta was already in here when I came in, and I started talking to her. She was telling me a little about the nutty things she experienced as a member of the Liljefors clan."
"Ah, I see," Christian said neutrally.
She regarded him for a moment, while he stood there expressionless; then she gave another shrug and turned away. "I'm not going to be a very good princess, Christian, you may as well know," she said, moving toward one of the windows. "One threat, one attempt, and I go nuts. I obviously don't believe what any of you say, or trust that we have enough protection." He still said nothing; feeling goaded for some reason, she whirled to stare at him, slowly beginning to lose her composure. "So why don't you just go on and go to the museum and leave me behind? After all, all I'll do is bawl about the lack of adequate security and see demon faces around every corner and behind every display. That's pretty much what you said, isn't it?"
Christian let his head fall forward a moment, shaking it once or twice, and sauntered forward, hands still in his pockets. "One question," he said, his voice still neutral. "Do you trust that the triplets are safe here in the castle?"
She did, in fact; but she wasn't sure what he intended to do with the statement if she said so. Instead she retorted, "I thought you already knew. Since I'm so paranoid, I'd think you'd automatically assume I wouldn't."
Exasperated again—at least judging from his expression—Christian stopped. "I'm trying to meet you halfway here, Leslie. If you prefer to prolong this senseless argument, just tell me so and I'll leave you to nurture your wounds here alone."
The lingering tension from the scare the day before and her own embarrassment at her mistrust in their security precautions, along with the sick-to-her-stomach feeling she always got whenever she and Christian argued, acted together to make her detonate. "I was talking to Liselotta," she shouted at him, tears spilling over and adding fury and frustration at herself to the emotional mix. "She said she got a lot more threats and persecution than I ever did and that she asked Gerhard once if he wanted to get a divorce because of all the trouble it was causing, and he got mad at her and told her no and never to think like that again. She put this a little more in perspective for me. Now I'm feeling stupid enough without you standing there letting me shove my foot even farther into my mouth. And just to answer your question, yes, I do trust the security here in the castle. I'm sorry to have been flip, but I think I'm at the end of my rope here!"
Christian stared at her, mouth open. "Herregud, Leslie!"
"Oh, just go take your tour and leave me alone," she wailed, fighting her tears. "It's what you want anyway…"
"Damn it, Leslie, no, it's not," Christian said through a weary sigh. "Truly, I have to ask you this: do you honestly think I'd deliberately expose the triplets to needless peril? I thought you and I could go with Carl Johan; that was why he stopped me in the great entry in the first place. He's probably standing out there right now wondering where we are. It would be just the three of us, and the triplets would stay right here." He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms; that finally broke through her disintegrating control and she began to sob into his shoulder. "Now, it's all right, Leslie, stop crying. So, do you think I would put them in danger?"
"No," Leslie managed, fighting again to regain control over her emotions.
"Well, that's one thing in my favor at least," he said wryly. "Here, now, stop, all right? Perhaps you'll be a lousy princess, my Rose, but you'll be a good mother, with your concern for our children." He tipped her head up and smiled into her red, teary face. "If it will make you feel any better, we'll discuss it with Carl Johan on our way to the museum."
Leslie nodded and said slowly, "I know you think I'm being paranoid. But that feeling hasn't gone away, Christian. When the security men said they saw someone get away, and when those servants said they didn't catch the person who ran into the south wing, I knew it wasn't over yet. As long as those two are free and as long as we're here, I'm going to be scared, and that awful feeling will persist."
Christian's expression shifted to startled concern. "You still have it? Tell me, do you think it will go away once we're on the way home? And before you ask, yes, Errico insisted on providing us the use of his jet, especially now after what happened yesterday. We'll have only one stop to refuel and that will be in Chicago; we won't even get off the aircraft. Does that help? Will setting foot on Fantasy Island soil ease your mind at all?"
"I don't know," Leslie admitted reluctantly after a long moment. "I wanted to say it would so you could relax and you wouldn't be so disgusted with me, but I really don't know. Nutjobs have gotten access to the island before. I wish I had even a little idea who these people are, so I could call ahead and tell Father to have people watch out for them."
"I have an idea," Christian mused. "Let me toss the thought at Carl Johan and see what he thinks of it, and then we can work it out from there."
