Page 37 of Impossible Heir for the King

‘Yeah.’ But Niko’s bad feeling grew. Her mother had abandoned her. The one true carer in her life had been sent away when she was in her teens and she blamed herself for that. She blamed herself for her mother staying as long as she had with her father too. She felt unwanted. She’d worked hard and long—quietly keeping herself needed, safe. Barely getting the necessities she actually needed. Like basic medical attention. A cold, cold frustration built within him.

‘I’m okay, Niko.’ She suddenly smiled at him. ‘You don’t need to try to fix anything. It is what it is.’

‘I only want to ensure the baby and youbothhave all you need.’

Maia didn’t deserve the difficulties and demands that came with him. His mother hadn’t coped with them. His grandmother had built an emotional wall that nothing and no one could get through. But Maia wouldn’t have to participate in public life. He could keep her sheltered here. She wouldn’t have to work in the way she’d had to all her life.

‘We’re too far from the house,’ he growled as the rain began to fall in large splots. ‘We’re going to get drenched.’

She chuckled. ‘I don’t mind.’

He did. He didn’t want her slipping. ‘Come on. We’ll go in there.’

The small shelter was on a slight rise—poles and a roof and only one side, but it was better than nothing.

But inside there was more than he’d realised. There was a small wooden table with three photo frames and a partially burned candle on top. It was neat and so carefully presented. He’d not realised Aron had set those things here—he wouldn’t have come in if he had. It was too personal.

‘We shouldn’t be in here,’ Maia said softly.

But Niko was in here now and he couldn’t help walking towards that little shrine. His heart ached.

‘Who is she?’ Maia asked softly, looking at the central picture that he’d been gazing at for long moments. ‘A relative?’

‘The likeness is obvious, isn’t it?’ he muttered.

‘The cheekbones.’ She nodded. ‘The nose.’

‘Yes.’ But he pointed to the other photos first. ‘That’s Aron’s wife. These are my parents.’ His father was gazing at his mother as she smiled directly into the camera lens. It said it all to Niko. And he could hardly stand to look at it. So he returned to the photo in the centre. ‘That’s Lani. Aron’s eldest.’

He saw the confusion flickering in Maia’s eyes and yeah, it didn’t explain the cheekbones. ‘She was my grandfather’s firstborn. She was born two years before my father. Three years after my grandfather had already married. He was a cheat. He didn’t acknowledge her—his illegitimate daughter. He didn’t care for her mother. Aron raised her and she became a maid in the palace. Ultimately she worked as my mother’s primary attendant, a nanny to me too. We were all very close.’

Maia turned to face him. ‘Did you know who she really was? Didshe?’

‘No. Not for all those years. She was denied her name. She was kept in seclusion, a source of shame. Never acknowledged. But never given her freedom either. She missed out on everything she should have had. She didn’t get her own damned life. I mean, Aron was wonderful. He tried. So did his wife. But it didn’t make up for the fact that she was basically kept as a playmate and then a servant for my father.’

‘So that’s why you want this child to be legitimate.’

He nodded. ‘I would never do that to a child of my own.’

Maia nodded. ‘What happened to her?’

‘It was coming up to her birthday. She’d always wondered, I think. She’d mention it to Aron sometimes—about how she didn’t look like any of her younger siblings. He said nothing, of course. But he couldn’t reassure her enough. I think he wanted to tell her but couldn’t. She and my mother were very close and they talked about it when we were here. You can see the mirror-image bone structure with my father. I was home for the holidays, full of facts from my marvellous education. Home DNA kits had just hit the market and I suggested that she could get one if she really wanted to find out. She got all excited. She told Aron. And that was when Aron finally told her. I’d forced him into betraying the king.’

‘Maybe she should have been told so much sooner,’ Maia said. ‘I don’t think that’s something you ought to feel guilty about.’

Yeah, well. He did. Because it had hurt Aron too. So badly. ‘Poor Aron was so loyal. He was doing what was asked of him but I think it tore him up for all those years. He loved Lani, he wanted to protect her. But...’ he looked at Maia sadly. ‘It shouldn’t have happened to her.’

‘What happened when Aron told her?’

‘Dad was away—he didn’t know Aron had said anything. My grandfather was at our house in the hills. Lani wanted to confront him—right away. And my mother offered to go with her.’ Of course she’d offered. She’d cared deeply. ‘Mum said she’d drive. I asked if she had a headache and she said she didn’t, but I could tell. So I should have stopped her. I knew those headaches affected her vision and it was always my job to look after her when she had one.’ His father had always told him to. ‘I should have stopped them both. They should have waited until the morning. They were both so upset and they left.’ He shook his head. ‘Mum drove the coastal road. She missed a corner.’

‘Oh, Niko.’

Yeah. ‘They both died.’

‘How did your father cope?’

‘He didn’t. He stopped caring about anything. Especially himself. I never saw him sober again and he hardly saw me at all. He sent me back to boarding school. He blamed me for her death and he never recovered from it.’ He stared at the image of man who’d loved too much to live without his wife. ‘He banished Aron. My grandfather was furious but he just clammed up even more. He wouldn’t talk about it. Ever. And he expected Dad to be stoic and get on with the job. But Dad just never recovered from losing the love of his life. He was stuck in hellish grief. He made a bunch of poor choices, ended up with high blood pressure, high sugars and only a couple years later had a fatal stroke when he was far too young. My grandfather lost both his children right before each turned forty.’

---