§ § § - December 18, 2003
The three children, snugly bundled into strollers, slept in the heavily overcast winter afternoon. Roald had charge of his orphaned little niece, though he seemed almost unaware of it, staring into space. Gerhard and Liselotta stood nearby, guarding their own two; Rudolf, Margareta and Gabriella huddled not far away. Carl Johan and Christian, each with his wife at his side, flanked their sister, whose gaze was fixed on her daughter's coffin, just being lowered into the ground. Axel's coffin waited its turn.
Leslie shivered in the frigid breeze, blinking as the occasional snowflake batted her in the face, and wondered what they were going to do now. Christian had related his memory of the day Anna-Laura's husband, Esbjörn Lagnebring, had been buried, telling her how she had strained to go to the coffin and how Arnulf I and Susanna had had to exert nearly all their strength to restrain her. It was the reason he and Carl Johan now stood one on either side of Anna-Laura, ready to hold onto her in case she reacted the same way; but so far she simply stood in silence, her face pale and her eyes blank.
A week before Christmas, Leslie thought. It's going to be hell on poor Anna-Laura, and I have to wonder what Roald's thinking. I wonder if we couldn't do something for them, especially Anna-Laura…she lost her husband all those years ago, and now she's lost her daughter and son-in-law. All she has now are Roald and the baby. And Roald's behavior since Christian and I got here hasn't been a very good omen. Roald, 23, was a carefree young devil, with several very wealthy friends who liked to skirt the edge of the law; he spent far more time away from the castle than in it, and when he was there he took little interest in family affairs. After his sister and brother-in-law had been killed, the family had seen nothing at all of him until the police had brought him back to the castle just the previous evening, heavily drunk and mumbling constantly in jordiska. His silence now was largely the result of a killing hangover, but sorrow glimmered in his eyes too; even from where she stood beside Christian, she could see it.
Anna-Laura's desperate wail rose into the sky, and Leslie turned back just in time to see Christian and Carl Johan each take one of her arms and hold on. Sure enough, she was struggling towards Cecilia's new grave, fighting so hard to go that Carl Johan and Christian had to plant their feet well apart and brace themselves with all their strength. Amalia and Leslie looked at each other past their husbands and sister-in-law; Amalia's gaze showed she was as worried as Leslie. Anna-Laura's voice rose into a shriek. "Min lilla, min flikka, ta inte henne…nej, jag vill döa…"
"Det ska du inte," Christian snapped low in response, and glanced at Leslie. "She claims to want to die. She's too strong for that, but losing a child…"
"We…she needs to get away," Leslie said. "What if we—" She had no chance to finish the thought, for just then Anna-Laura broke away from her brothers and lurched to the gravesite. Instantly Carl Johan and Christian, as well as Amalia and Leslie, lunged after her, all four pulling her to a halt and combining their strength to hold her in place. Carl Johan spoke urgently to her in jordiska, and finally she wilted in their grasp and began to sob.
The rest of the service was an ordeal; the only sounds were Anna-Laura's soft sobbing and the drone of the pastor conducting the funeral. The grieving princess stood lax and unresisting, allowing her brothers to release her; Christian took his sister's hand and interlaced the fingers of his other hand with Leslie's. On Anna-Laura's other side, Carl Johan followed suit, with his sister's hand in one of his and his wife's in the other; all five stood huddled close together for both comfort and warmth. Leslie, Christian, Carl Johan and Amalia watched bleakly while Cecilia's grave was filled in and Axel's casket was lowered into its grave directly beside hers. Axel's family—his parents, a brother and a sister-in-law—stood on the far side of the two graves, as though they and the royal family were divided into two opposing camps. Leslie glanced at them and wondered how close Axel's parents were to little Princess Elisabeth. For that matter, it made her wonder about Amalia's, Kristina's and Esbjörn's families and what sort of relationship they'd had with their royal relatives, and whether Christian had ever known or even met anyone on his mother's side of the family.
No one said much after the funeral, keeping their heads down as they passed the TV cameras that had been there to broadcast the service around the country. Anna-Laura, Roald and baby Elisabeth were whisked away in one car; Carl Johan, Amalia, Christian and Leslie had another, and Gabriella, Margareta, Gerhard, Liselotta, Matteus and Viktoria rode in a third. Despite being queen, Gabriella usually preferred not to play up her status unless it was unavoidable.
"How often did Axel's family see the baby?" Leslie ventured on the way back to the castle. Christian shrugged; Carl Johan and Amalia looked up.
"It's too often the way of jordiska royals that the non-royal relatives rarely really know the children," Carl Johan said through a long sigh. "Even now this holds true. If a commoner marries into the royal family, the ones left behind seldom, if ever, see that person again, and usually barely have the opportunity to meet the children of the union. The only exception that I can recall was Esbjörn's family, until he was killed. After that they retreated, and Ceci and Roald grew up without knowing their father's family except from afar."
Amalia nodded, looking pensive. "It's very true," she admitted. "My parents hardly know Gerhard and Rudolf, and have never met my grandchildren. It was the same for Kristina's parents and siblings in the case of Anna-Kristina, Briella and Magga."
"You'll be an exception in reverse, I think," observed Carl Johan. "Leslie, your father will know your baby far better than we will."
"We'll try not to let that happen," said Christian. "I know Mr. Roarke is greatly looking forward to welcoming grandchildren, but he himself advised that our son or daughter should be as well acquainted with all of you as with him. And if it means frequent trips back and forth from one side of the planet to the other, then so be it." He frowned. "I was never able to get in touch with Anna-Kristina to let her know about Ceci. I don't know what happened to her and Mateo, do you, Leslie?"
"I think Anna-Kristina sent an e-mail about an interview they had to do with some officials from China who were going to be on the island this week," she said. "But that shouldn't have prevented her from hearing about this."
"We can telephone her this evening," said Carl Johan. "Perhaps it was necessary for them to leave the island for this interview. Once Ceci got old enough to become interested in clothes, she and Anna-Kristina grew fairly close. It'll be a blow to her."
Christian, Leslie and Amalia nodded solemnly, and they all dropped back into silence after that. Near the castle Christian finally murmured to Leslie, "How are you feeling, my Rose? Everything all right?"
"No problems," Leslie assured him. She nestled against him and smiled slightly when he wrapped an arm around her. She lost herself in thought, and by the time they arrived at the castle the idea she'd had at the funeral had come back to mind. She tucked it away for the moment, but made a resolution to bring it up as soon as she could.
They found Anna-Laura in the sitting room, holding the sleeping baby, her face slack and her demeanor faraway, an odd look in her eyes. Carl Johan and Christian looked at each other, and Carl Johan asked, "Where's Roald?"
"He left," said Anna-Laura dispiritedly.
"He's gone out of control," Carl Johan said, shaking his head. "He was wild enough before this, but with Ceci gone now, he's impossible. Something needs to be done."
"He's grieving," Anna-Laura snapped at her older brother, glaring. "Let him be!"
"Not like this, äldresyster," Christian said gently. "I don't like to be so blunt, but I have to tell you that if you allow him to run completely unchecked, he could meet as tragic an end as Ceci and Axel did. He's too old to continue on as he is, Anna-Laura."
She turned her glare on him. "How ironic that this comes from you!"
Christian shot the ceiling an exasperated look, but before either he or Carl Johan could say anything more, Leslie sat beside Anna-Laura and laid a hand on her sister-in-law's shoulder. "I had an idea," she said softly, making Anna-Laura turn to stare at her with that same strange, spooky look in her eyes. "I think you need to get away from here. This whole place is full of memories and you need to put some distance between yourself and the castle. Tell me, how long has it been since you took a trip just for the sake of traveling?"
"I don't know," Anna-Laura muttered listlessly.
"Then why don't you come back to Fantasy Island with Christian and me?" Leslie offered. "Bring the baby and Roald—I think Roald should definitely come too."
Carl Johan and Amalia exchanged surprised glances, then both nodded firmly. "That's an excellent idea," said Carl Johan. "You do need to get away, Anna-Laura. You haven't left the country in far too long. Take the trip back with Christian and Leslie, and we'll help you get the baby ready to go. And if we have to have Roald arrested and then locked in his rooms till it's time to leave, we will. Briella can even issue a royal edict if necessary, but I think the trip will do him as much good as it will you."
"I think she's right," Christian said. "We leave Saturday; if we start now and pull a few strings, I think perhaps we can get you and Roald and Elisabeth on either the same flights we're on, or ones that will arrive close to the time ours do. But you do need to get away from here, or you'll slowly drown in your grief. I still remember how long you hid after Esbjörn died. Since Elisabeth is your responsibility now, you can't retreat like that this time around. It'll do you good to have a change of locale."
"It's strange," murmured Anna-Laura distantly, looking at Leslie with a touch of entreaty in her eyes. "But I've been taking some comfort in believing that Ceci must be at last getting to know her father, as she was never able to do in life."
Leslie compressed her lips and nodded, her eyes welling up in the empathy that she knew Christian could sense even without looking at him. "That's a beautiful way to think of it, Anna-Laura," she said softly. "It would be so right for that to happen."
Anna-Laura smiled ever so faintly, and she reached around to hug Leslie with one arm. "Thank the fates that Christian found you," she said in a tattered little voice. "You understand what death brings to a person. Yes, I think you're right…Lisi and Roald and I will return to Fantasy Island with you and Christian."
§ § § - December 20, 2003
"I still can't believe you're making me do this," Roald fumed, waiting with his mother, niece, aunt and uncle at Sundborg's airport. "I'm more than old enough to make up my own mind about what to do and when to do it. I don't particularly care to go away anywhere, especially so close to Christmas."
"Well, you're going," Christian said coldly, his tone the result of his weariness with the ongoing head-butting he'd been experiencing with his nephew. "You've had entirely too free a hand lately and you've been getting into far too much trouble. You're too old to keep playing stupid games with your life, Roald."
Roald glared at him. "You're a hell of a one to talk! You raised enough of your own hell in your day. I still remember the way you deliberately shocked Grandpappa by dating Astrid Franzén…and you were eight years older then than I am now! You were always defying Grandpappa and Uncle Arnulf! I thought you were the coolest member of the whole family back then. Now you've turned into as much of a prude as Mother and Uncle Carl Johan and Aunt Amalia. Why don't you just leave me alone!"
"That's enough from you," Anna-Laura warned her son, but Roald only rolled his eyes and slouched against a pillar supporting the ceiling. Christian growled low in his throat and turned away from Roald, shaking his head disgustedly.
"He's the next generation's hellion, I guess," Leslie murmured to her husband, amused by Roald's recalcitrance and Christian's annoyance. "Once we get going he'll settle down."
Christian gave her a wry look. "The worst of it is, he has a point and he knows it," he said ruefully. "I had many hellion-type moments during my twenties, and it culminated in my squiring Astrid Franzén around purely for the shock value. I did a few daredevil things in my time, and he's more than old enough to remember most of that."
Leslie smiled and kissed him gently. "But the police never brought you home drunk," she pointed out, "and you never rebelled merely for its own sake—your rebellion was the result of your father's and Arnulf's constant attempts at control. Sure, you bucked tradition, but you've always had a practical, sensible streak in you. It's not really the same, and I think Roald knows that but just hates the idea of admitting to it."
"I suppose that's true," said Christian and grinned. "In any case, I have a feeling it's going to be a very long trip. I envy you, as much as you sleep. Do you suppose the flight attendants will have any tranquilizers I can make use of?" They both laughed and hugged each other briefly.
Roald was imperious and demanding all the way to Fantasy Island; due to the long flights, unexpectedly lengthy layovers and the crossing of the International Date Line, it was Monday before they stepped onto terra firma at the plane dock. Anna-Laura immediately set about removing some of baby Elisabeth's extra layers of clothing. "Herregud, but it's hot here!" she exclaimed. "I can never seem to remember that this is a tropical island. You must simply have been freezing in Lilla Jordsö, Leslie…perhaps even you as well, Christian, since I expect you've long since readjusted to the climate here."
"It was refreshing for a change, to have some really cold weather," Christian said with a shrug. "I must admit, though, it's hard to believe it's three days before Christmas."
"I want my own bungalow," Roald said snippily, glaring at his mother and his uncle by turns and then eyeing Leslie with just as little warmth. "You'll speak to Mr. Roarke about it, of course."
Leslie studied him for a moment, then said, "Frankly, I don't think you deserve it, even if we had any bungalows available just to suit your need to assert your royal status. Count yourself lucky you're in a bungalow at all and resign yourself to sharing with your mother and your niece."
Christian snickered, and Anna-Laura nodded sharply. "Exactly so," she said to Roald. "Stop this behavior immediately, Roald Helmer Olaf Lagnebring. If you don't know how to be polite, then for fate's sake hold your tongue."
A car pulled up just then and Roarke got out, with Anna-Kristina and Mateo climbing out of the passenger seats. Anna-Kristina rushed up to Anna-Laura and the two hugged each other; the younger woman had already begun to cry. "We heard only yesterday," she sobbed. "I wish we had been able to have our latest adoption interview here on the island, but the officials wanted us to meet them in Taiwan and we had to go there. Oh, it's terrible." Anna-Laura squeezed her eyes shut and murmured something in jordiska, but otherwise couldn't respond; she just clung to her niece.
Roald snorted and turned to Roarke, who had just caught up with them. "Aunt Leslie tells me I'm sharing a bungalow with Mother and the baby," he said. "I'd prefer my own."
"I apologize, Your Highness, but we had only the one free bungalow," Roarke said with a smile and a shallow bow. "However, it has two bedrooms, so you will have a measure of privacy. Your Highness…" He turned to Anna-Laura, who looked at him over Anna-Kristina's shoulder, her eyes swimming in tears. "I am so very sorry for the loss of your daughter and your son-in-law. Please know that if there is anything at all that I personally, or any of my staff, can do for you, you need only say so and it will be done immediately."
"I thank you, Mr. Roarke," Anna-Laura said shakily. "Just at the moment I think the best thing for us is to rest after all those long flights."
"Of course," Roarke agreed. "We'll take you to your bungalow immediately." He then approached Christian and Leslie, shook hands with the former and hugged the latter. "Are you feeling all right, Leslie?"
"Perfectly fine, Father," she said and lowered her voice. "I slept most of the flights away, but Christian told me Roald gave the flight attendants headaches demanding this, that and the other."
"He's going to be extremely difficult, Mr. Roarke," Christian agreed with a glance at Roald, who had wandered aside toward the car, looking bored and impatient. "I don't even know if he's really grieved for his sister yet. If so, he's expressing it in a very unsavory way. If he causes trouble, by all means do what you must to put him back in line. Anna-Laura would urge the same, so don't feel you must defer to him because he's a prince."
Roarke smiled. "Thank you, Christian. I expect you two are quite tired also, but if you're feeling equal to it, you might like to join me for dinner. I'll have Princess Anna-Laura over if she wishes, and Prince Roald is also welcome."
"Roald will probably turn you down, but Anna-Laura will be glad to have that worry taken care of," Christian said. "I think we'll be there too. If you'll give us a chance to go home and change clothes and rest a bit, we'll return to the main house about five-thirty."
"That's fine," Roarke said. "Your car is still at the main house. Why don't we go."
Christian and Leslie nodded, and she yawned while he put an arm around her waist and asked Mateo a few questions about the business. Everyone moved toward the waiting car and managed to cram inside for the short drive to the main house, where Christian and Leslie broke away and got into their own car to go home. A jeep waited to take Anna-Laura, Roald and Elisabeth to their bungalow, along with Mateo and Anna-Kristina. But before Christian and Leslie could get away, Roald slung himself into the back seat of their car. "I've never seen your house," he said. "I want to know if it's a decent place, and anyway, just now I don't feel like being around Mother."
His aunt and uncle exchanged a glance and Leslie shrugged; Christian started the car and drove away down the lane. "All right," he said, without enthusiasm.
Roald was silent till Christian pulled into the driveway; then he slid out and stared at the house from beside the car while Christian and Leslie gathered their luggage from the back and started for the door. He fell in beside them and offered, "Not bad, Uncle Christian, but it's pretty small. What's the story with the construction?"
"A new wing with three bedrooms," Christian said, releasing a yawn of his own. "Two upstairs, with a bathroom, and a guest suite on the lower level."
"Ah," said Roald. "Too bad it's not finished now. Even if it's attached to your house, I'd still rather stay here than with Mother and a screaming baby."
"All we have right now is a futon in the living room," said Leslie. "I think you'd prefer a room of your own in the bungalow. We're going back to the main house in a couple of hours or so, but right now I need a nap."
Christian sighed deeply. "I do too," he admitted. "Unfortunately, I can't—Mateo told me there's a major problem with a client's website, and I'll have to go into the office and deal with it there. If you'd rather, my Rose, I'll call Mr. Roarke from there and ask him to send a car for you. I think you're better off sleeping."
"Okay, go ahead and do that, my love," Leslie agreed. Christian unlocked the door and ushered his wife and nephew inside, then followed them in and pushed the door shut with one foot. Leslie added, "If you want to leave now, I'll unpack and then get some sleep."
Roald peered at them. "You two have become unbelievably boring."
"I'm no longer in my twenties, Roald, and Leslie is pregnant—and we've both just come off a series of long, exhausting flights," Christian reminded him. "There's little to see around here, so I think it's best that you come into town with me." He kissed Leslie and said, "We'll see you at the main house later on."
"Okay," she said and smiled. "Good luck with that site, my love. Roald, you might be interested in looking around the town square. I admit we're not exactly Monaco, or London, Paris or New York…but we're not meant to be. You can swim at the pool or the beach, or you can ride horseback. We have a casino too, if that interests you."
Roald shrugged. "Maybe I'll look at that later. Well, Uncle Christian, if you're going, then for fate's sake let's get out of here."
Christian sighed, aimed a rueful smile at Leslie, and started for the door. "Come on, then. Herregud, all I want is to sleep till next Thursday. You know, Leslie, my Rose, I think your sleeping habit is beginning to rub off on me." He grinned at her answering laugh and led Roald out the door.
On the way into Amberville Roald peered at Christian and remarked in their native tongue, "This must be about the most boring place on earth to live. All they have here is a casino? What goes on around here anyway?"
"How insular you are—especially for a prince, and in this day and age!" Christian observed, shaking his head a few times. "This island is a vacation resort above all else, Roald, but Mr. Roarke's livelihood is given over to granting fantasies."
"Fantasies?" Roald echoed, squinting.
Christian nodded. "Whatever people's wildest dreams are, he can make them come true. Meeting famous people, becoming something you've always wished you were, traveling back in time…he can do quite nearly anything. Leslie is his assistant, and I myself have even helped out on a few occasions." He grinned. "Some of the things I've seen, I've had a very hard time believing."
Roald made a noise and settled back in his seat. "Suppose, in that case, he brings Axel and Ceci back to life."
"That, he can't do," said Christian quietly. "Mr. Roarke may be something more than merely human, but he too has his limits, and resuscitating the dead isn't one of his abilities. Otherwise we'd all have certain loved ones still with us. Leslie and I would both have our mothers back, for instance." He sighed a little and slowed for the turn into the Old Swamp Road, the shortcut route that connected the northern and southern arms of the Ring Road. "You may think this beneath you, but Leslie forgot to mention that there's an amusement park farther down the island. There are distractions here if you're willing to look for them, but don't expect the sort of thrill-seeking opportunities you were searching out back in Sundborg. Mr. Roarke not only runs a business here, but owns the entire island, and is the ultimate authority. This is actually a sovereign territory in itself. Try to pull some stunt, and I can guarantee you it will get back to him—and your mother and I will let him deal with you as he wishes. If you think I'm bluffing, try it once."
Roald snorted and muttered, "I get the message, damn it. You've really changed, Uncle Christian. You used to do crazy things sometimes."
"Not on your level," Christian retorted shortly. "Suppose we drop this particular topic—I can see that no matter how much I try to convince you, all you can remember is my occasional public flare-up of rebelliousness. You'll have to learn for yourself."
Roald let out another snort and looked out his side of the car. "For a vacation resort, it sure looks primitive. Nothing but jungle! Why aren't there more buildings?"
"Mr. Roarke's policy," said Christian. "He's a very forward-thinking man."
"It looks deserted out here," Roald said. "I suppose your office is in the middle of nowhere at all."
"It's in town," Christian said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Roald shrug, but didn't bother responding. He had some hope that Jonathan would be in when they got to his office; with any luck he and Roald might strike up a friendship. As it happened, by some great stroke of luck, not only was Jonathan at work, so was his twin brother, who was currently between work gigs. "I'm seeing double," Christian wisecracked, coming into the office and heading for his desk.
"Hi there, Boss Prince," said Jonathan cheerfully. "This is my brother Jeremy."
"Ah, I see. Hello, Jeremy," Christian said, and shook hands with Jeremy Ichino.
"Boss Prince?" Roald echoed blankly from the doorway where he still stood.
"Yep," Jonathan said easily. "He's my boss, and he was still a prince when we started working for him, so my sister and I call him 'Boss Prince'. He took it well."
Roald gave Christian an assessing look and then remarked, "Probably better than I would have done. You're one of his employees, then?"
Christian paused behind his desk. "My accountant, Jonathan Ichino," he said. "Jonathan and Jeremy, this is my nephew, Prince Roald Lagnebring."
"Oh," the twin brothers chorused and both arose to favor Roald with a bow, which the young prince acknowledged with the customary nod. "Nice to meet you, Prince," Jeremy offered, and Roald smiled slightly.
Christian glanced at him and said, "Well, find a place to sit, Roald, and think about making some polite conversation. I have some work to do over here." He pulled open a desk drawer, dropped something into it and sat down behind his computer. Roald watched his uncle for a moment, then looked at Jonathan and Jeremy, who regarded him with a clear decrease in their initial friendliness toward him.
Finally Roald said, "So are you two natives of this place?"
"Born and raised," Jonathan confirmed.
"Don't you ever want to get out and see the world?" Roald asked, amazed.
Jonathan shrugged, but Jeremy gave him a rueful grin. "Well, sure, don't most people from small places? My family all think I'm a case of arrested mental development because I'm a roadie."
"A roadie…? Oh, you mean one of those people who carries around a band's instruments and so on when they're on tour," Roald said, unwillingly impressed.
Jonathan grinned and nudged his brother. "Still don't want to find a real job, huh, Jer? Mom and Dad aren't quite ready to give up on you yet."
"They'll have to," said Jeremy. "I'm not done gallivanting yet. Anyway, I'm between tours right now, and the next one's not for almost a month, so I'm taking a break here at home. Thought I'd come in with Jonathan and see how the other half lives."
Jonathan cracked, "Yeah, the richer half." Christian laughed; Jeremy grinned again, good-naturedly, and Jonathan smirked. Roald half-smiled despite himself. "So," Jonathan went on, "you came back with Boss Prince and Miss Leslie?"
Roald nodded. "Mother and I and my niece," he said a little distantly, his eyes losing focus for a moment. Jonathan and Jeremy both stilled and watched him; Christian, though he appeared to be absorbed in his work, had an ear on the conversation nonetheless. After a moment Roald noticed the twins' scrutiny and explained, "Mother is Uncle Christian's sister. My niece was orphaned less than a week ago—my sister Ceci and her husband were killed in a car crash last Sunday."
The twins winced. "Oh, man, that's brutal," Jeremy said. "Damn shame."
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Jonathan offered quietly.
Roald stared at them for a moment, then shrugged one shoulder, unconsciously reminiscent of his uncle. "It's all right," he muttered.
"It is?" Jonathan asked incredulously. "Man, it just happened! How can it be all right, now or ever? Don't you even miss your sister?"
Roald's head snapped up and his expression iced over. "I don't want to discuss my sister," he said flatly. "Not now, and not with you."
Jonathan made a noise and deliberately returned his attention to his computer; after a few seconds he said, "By the way, Boss Prince, Anton and Julianne are both out on call. I think Julianne oughta be back anytime."
"That's fine," said Christian. "Roald, do you even know how to properly accept condolences, or is this just your rebellious nature again?"
Roald shot out of his chair. "I have no reason to sit and listen to you chastising me or people offering false sympathy," he snapped. "I'm going where I will, and neither you nor anyone else is going to stop me." He stalked out the door.
Jeremy whistled low. "That's one disturbed dude."
Christian sighed and agreed, "You're right, he is, but he refuses to give his grief the outlet it needs, and I don't know how to get through to him. It may take something drastic. I apologize for his rudeness."
"Aw, that's not your problem to apologize for, Boss Prince," Jonathan said. "It really is a shame about your niece's death, and her husband's too. How old's their daughter?"
"Only seven months," Christian said softly. "Anna-Laura will have to raise Elisabeth now. I don't know how she's going to manage it, since she has her own grief to deal with."
