BMP: Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 “I know. I heard. I saw.”

POV: Henri Keller

For years I have stayed behind and watched, only because I trusted Carsten Regerett. I have stayed behind him, as I watch him ridicule Candice. He said it is for her. He said it is to protect her.

From what?

Everything seemed clear that the only protection she needed from is her Father.

Every time he would lecture Candice for the smallest things, I am tempted to confess the truth. But I knew to control myself. And all these years I let myself believe that Carsten was only doing it for Candice’s sake. He’s hurting her so that when others do, it won’t hurt as bad.

Everything I did was for Candice, and always had been. And I know for a fact Candice won’t know about it, unless I tell her myself. I have been waiting for a long time, to the day when I can finally spill everything. It will be the day when she can hold power on her own, as Carsten is helping achieve right now. But waiting is so much agony. I can no longer bear it, especially when Carsten hit Candice the other day. This time, it wasn’t in his office, but here in the Palace. It felt so much worse. It’s when I realized, Carsten isn’t really helping Candice achieve power, but strengthen his own. And as long as Candice is within Carsten’s grasp, I can never tell her the truth. This is the last straw. I can't trust Carsten anymore, not when my sister is going to suffer along the way.

I’ve thought hard on how to defeat Carsten, and I realized I have been watching his back for the longest time, I hold his dirtiest secrets. I know what he did. And to save Candice, I must destroy Carsten. So last night, I have finally decided. I will tell the Queen. I will tell her everything.

“She’s waiting. You got ten minutes,” Jackson revealed himself from the doors of the Royal Quarters.

“She will request for more, you’ll see,” I eyed Jackson before I entered in.

I entered the Royal Quarters, with the Queen seated in one of the cushions.

I greeted, “Forgive me for asking to meet you today, Your Majesty. But the information I hold requires your attention, right away.”

“You could have passed the message through Carsten. Don’t you work for him? Aren’t you his assistant?” she asked, with her voice cold.

I was silent, awkwardly standing by the door of the Royal Quarters. This conversation will be a long one, more than ten minutes, and I can’t proceed just standing.

But she didn’t invite me to sit, so I couldn’t.

“I believe I cannot concern His Excellency over this…” I paused, “For this concerns him.”

I eyed Her Majesty, who had her blue eyes wide, “Very well, take your seat, and make it short.”

When I sat down, I waited for a couple more seconds before I faced her. She was smirking.

“I know no other way to shorten this, Your Majesty, but…” I struggled to bring out the words, “The man I work for, Carsten Regerett, I believe, is to blame for His Highness, the late Crown Prince’s, sudden death.”

She laughed at that instant.

“Do you wish to be punished? False accusation is a grave sin, especially for an appointed Prime Minister.” Her look was petrifying.

I can’t give up now.

“Like you have said, I have been working for the Prime Minister for the longest time, Your Majesty. I know. I heard. I saw.”

My tone was serious, as she had probably already observed. She was silent, just merely looking at me in confusion.

I can’t blame her. She trusted Carsten Regerett. That’s why she appointed him anyway. But there’s more to the story than there is.

“Everyone had foreseen the late Prince’s death. He was deadly ill,” she said, still defending the Prime Minister.

Perhaps she was still in denial. My mere words cannot be the proof she needed.

“Yes, but not so soon, Your Majesty. Don’t you agree? He was sick, but he died just as quickly. The Prime Minister has had me instruct one of the Royal Doctors to hasten the late Crown Prince’s death, so he can have the innocent Candice where she is now. He had planned it, Your Majesty. It was the perfect cover-up, since everyone saw it coming,” I said.

I knew for a fact that confessing this will bury me as well, but I don’t care anymore. I’m doing this for Candice, if it’s the last thing I do.

I glanced at the Queen, who looked horrified. Such expression is seen rarely from around the Palace. But I expected it.

This is about her son, Queen or not.

Her hand was trembling, so as her voice when she spoke. Her gaze was on the ground, “Call Jackson this instant! Call him! Call him!” she exclaimed.

“Love isn’t selfish, but only brave.”

POV: Candice Regerett

“My Lady?” Savannah called from outside my room.

I turned around from the balcony in my room, where I had been enjoying the view from Hesselborg Grounds, to find her peeking in from my door.

“There had been a note sent to you, my Lady,” she says, as she steps in.

A note? From whom?

She arrives before me and hands me a piece of paper folded in a square. She took a bow before exiting.

I carefully unfolded the note. It was from Henri. I recognized his handwriting instantly, in every birthday card he would send me over the years.

Meet me at the Royal Quarters as soon as you receive this, and take the Prince with you. You must hear the truth.

HK

***

It was easy to look for Prince James. I know I saw him passing by at Hesselborg Grounds to the Gazebo moments ago. I’ve watched him from my balcony as he reflected by himself. I’ve argued about meeting him there, but I thought he needed the time by himself.

I wonder what Henri meant by the truth. And why does he insist to meet at the Royal Quarters? Why do I have to take Prince James with me? But I figured the only way to answer these questions is to actually arrive.

I made my way to the Gazebo hurriedly, but Prince James was too occupied by his thoughts, he didn’t feel my presence as I stood behind him. He had his arms at his back, and his posture looked weary.

“Prince?” I called.

He didn’t turn around, so I took another step forward. This time, I’m standing just beside him. I called him once more at the same time he notices me.

His expression was blank blank, but I’ve been exposed to these expressions of his I knew the difference between a blank expression and a blank blank expression. This expression speaks emptiness, not concealment.

“Candice…” he managed to utter, though weak. His eyes were unsettling upon mine. “Olivia left. She… actually left.”

He hugged me abruptly, his arms taking each space between us, and proclaiming it his. “I’m so sorry…” he whispered, “I’m sorry because… I… miss her.”

He started sobbing, his grip on my back loosening.

“Hey,” I lightly broke the embrace, “Look at me.”

I tilted his chin, for his gaze was low. When his eyes reached my face, I saw his expression break down. I saw at that instant the pain he’s withholding. I saw the guilt he’s obscuring. I saw the emptiness he’s feeling.

My hand brushed his shoulder as I search for words to say, but nothing came out.

What am I supposed to say at times like this?

How do I comfort him while I comfort myself?

And more importantly, am I deserving to comfort him when all of this began because of me?

My expression must have shared his despair.

“Say something, Candice,” he said.

I am supposed to say something. I do have something in mind, which I wish to express. But I’m holding back.

“I,” I stuttered, “I don’t… don’t know what to say…” I kept my gaze low for a while before returning to his face, “How do I say you shouldn’t miss her? She’s been a part of you for years, James. It would be unfair for me to forbid your feelings for her, as much as I want to. How do I become selfless, when all I’m doing is love you? Love seems to be selfish, for I had become just that.”

He sighed. “Well,” he said, “You did say that.”

I did. I turned away, embarrassed for expressing myself like that. Love is selfish. Will he hate me now? Will he run after Olivia and ask her to come back?

“I want you not to miss her, James, but I’m not in the position to demand that from you. I understand how you feel. I couldn’t ask you to let go… because you really shouldn’t,” I said.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him, so we’re once again inches apart. “So instead you’re asking me to hold tight? Are you going to push me away? Because I don’t want you to, just because I miss her. If love is selfish, then be one. Because I want to give you all of me, what you deserve.”

“No,” I shook my head, and he released my arm, “I’m not going to push you away, Prince. I am asking you to move on, yes. But let go, do not. Move on but don’t let go. And moving on comes with time. I will wait, Prince. That’s how I can love you, by being selfish, but selfless at the same time.”

Love isn’t selfish, but only brave. Love drives a person to his limits, but love doesn’t limit a person. In the end, one is brave to choose what he desires.

He pulled me in his arms, once again, whispering to my ear, “Move on but don’t go. I can do that,” he reassures himself, “I love you, Candice.”

“I love you too, James,” I replied.

Oh right, the note.

“And Henri sent me this note, by the way. He asks for our presence. I don’t really understand what he meant by the truth,” I unfolded the paper myself before handing it to Prince James.

He studied it for a while, and looked at me with bewilderment. “Candice…” he whispered, “I need to tell you something, about Henri.”