Page 11 of Roaming Holiday

“Let’s hear them out,” I say quietly. Maia huffs but doesn’t argue.

Beverly clears her throat with a glance at Dad before she begins. “My sister became the queen of Maldana twenty-six years ago—after our father died. While on a private holiday in Rome, she met an American man who had been studying abroad there, and they fell in love. Ophie loved this country, but she loved him more. So… she left.”

Dad’s head lowers and Ruby squeezes his hand.

“They moved to the United States and had two daughters—Nina and Maia—before she died.”

Ophelia Jolie Elias gave birth to me. She was Queen of Maldana. The queen. Crown and all.

“My mom was a queen?” Maia exclaims, her anger dissipating. “Holy shit.”

Roman Holiday is the extent of my knowledge of monarchs. Audrey Hepburn’s character, Princess Ann, felt suffocated in her role. She wanted freedom—and found Joe.

Just like Ophelia found Dad.

Ruby cuts a glare at my sister, and Beverly bristles from the foul language. Dad doesn’t care; he squeezes his eyes shut to fight his tears. For a moment, I look at him and see twenty years of complicated silence. How do you tell your children their mother wore an actual crown? He never spoke of her. Our mother remained a mystery because of his pain and her origin. I expect him to say it’s a joke, but it makes sense. He poured everything into this trip. Because he wants us to feel close to the woman who gave us life.

“All this time,” I say to him. “That’s why you didn’t talk about her?”

“I wanted to wait until you were old enough—until you were ready.”

“Ready for what?” Desperation slips through the crack in my voice. When is a child not ready to hear about her own mother?

He reaches toward a folder on the coffee table between us. “The letter. Your mother wrote a letter to Beverly.”

Beverly perks and takes out a sheet of paper. “Oh, yes. This letter should explain it better than we are. The original is in Maldanian, so I translated it for you.”

Hope sparks in my stomach. I almost ask for the original—to read her unfiltered words. My mother is a distant, faded memory. I’ll never speak to her again, but to read her thoughts… It might bring her back to me. Maia and I hold the letter to read.

Beverly,

It’s been too long. You’re my sister and I love you. We shouldn’t stay angry at one another. Like I said, this isn’t forever. Pierce and I want to return once the kids are old enough. All we want is a normal life. We deserve that. The institution is no place to raise a child.

At the time of writing this, I can tell you that baby number two is a girl! We haven’t picked a name out, but I’ll write the moment we do.

Nina is a little blessing. She’s such a bright star with so much personality! She’s far smarter than a two-year-old should be and she and Jace would be inseparable! I want to visit. I want you to visit. I want us to be a family the way Mom and Dad couldn’t.

We both said hurtful things. I regret leaving us like that and I’m so sorry. I love you, Bev. I’m not abandoning Maldana. It’s my home! My girls will grow with Maldana in their blood. I will raise them to love our world and then, when they’re old enough, they’ll decide if they want to be princesses. Nina will only become queen if she wants it. I won’t take that choice from her the way it was me.

Becoming queen was your dream. Now you get to do that. I know how you are about tradition, and my girls deserve the option of their birthright, so we’ll be back. I don’t want to lose you in the meantime.

Love,

Ophelia

I read the letter twice. Judging by my sister’s silence, she does the same.

Nina is a little blessing.

Nina will only become queen if she wants it.

“You brought us here,” I whisper, “to be princesses of a country?”

“I-If you want,” Dad replies.

Beverly reaches for the large book on the coffee table. “I put this together for you.” She opens the cover to reveal a baby picture. Under it reads Ophelia Jolie Elias along with her birth date. “It’s all about Ophie’s childhood and life.”

Ophie. This woman I’ve never met before is calling my mother Ophie. I want to be defensive, but she knows more about Mom than I do.

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