BMP: Chapter 20

Chapter 20

“I did it for you…”

POV: James Bret Nikolai Ravn Østergaard

We are walking side by side, Candice and I, to the Royal Quarters, where Henri had asked to meet us. I finally told Candice about what I heard. I told her of Henri calling the Prime Minister Father. She was silent at first that I thought she was disappointed in me for not telling. Gerardo hasn’t reported yet, about Henri Keller. But the moment I saw the note Henri wrote, and reading the word truth, I know I got to warn Candice first before we meet Henri.

“So Henri is my brother? Biological or not?” I remember her asking me, and worse, I remember being speechless.

We stopped at the doors of the Quarters.

“Should we knock?” Candice asked at the same time I turned the knob. Before we completely made our way in, the voice of the Queen was too loud it was impossible not to hear her shout, “Is it true? Is it true you killed my son?!”

I panicked, as the view inside the Royal Quarters surprised me. The note Candice showed me a while ago only states meeting Henri, not the Queen, and especially not the Prime Minister. Henri was seated at one of the cushions. His gaze was on the coffee table. He didn’t budge when we busted in the room. He should have expected us if he sent the letter. But the Queen’s expression was worse. She didn’t expect us at all.

“Prince,” she called, standing in front of the Prime Minister. She looked worse than I imagined. Her expression holds so many mixes I can’t determine each anymore. There’s a look of shock, disappointment, anger, and so on.

And then there was the Prime Minister, looking over his shoulder, looking stiff.

I approached the scene. “Grandma? What did you mean he killed your son?” I turned to the Prime Minister, “You killed my Father?!”

“What’s going on?” I heard Candice say, but I dare not to glance at her.

Everyone was silent, absorbing the scene.

“Please, will anyone tell us what this is about?!” I hollered out that I heard my voice echo from the walls.

“Prince, please. Leave for a moment,” the Queen refuses to look at me, as she spoke calmly. I turned to Henri. His gaze was still frozen.

My body reacted instantly. I grabbed the Prime Minister then, and pinned him to the couch. I was on top of him, as he wrestles from my grip. My arm was pinning his throat.

“Prince!” the Queen screeched.

A cold hand pulled me away.

“Get off him! Get off my Father!” The voice was familiar.

I turned around and saw Candice, looking at me horridly, pulling me from the Prime Minister.

Carsten Regerett stood up, coughing, as the Queen rushed to his side.

Finally Henri spoke, and we all glanced at him. He stood up as he did, “The Prince has to know.”

“Did you ask them to come?” Carsten turned to Henri, but he only looked away. He settled his gaze to me as he spoke, “Yes, Your Highness. Carsten Regerett killed your Father!”

His voice was crisp I felt Candice step back from behind me.

By that the Prime Minister launched forward, grabbing Henri.

“That’s it!” the Queen spoke and everyone froze, “Everyone out but Carsten, now!”

***

Henri, Candice and I stepped out from the Royal Quarters, only to have our own conversation at the Royal Library.

I was still in rage I couldn’t think straight as Henri and Candice exchanged words.

“Henri, what do you mean Father killed His Highness?” Candice asked Henri.

“He did. His Highness was dying, but his death was progressed,” Henri replied, and I felt his gaze burning me from my behind.

“How?” Candice seemed to be asking the questions I’m too shocked to ask myself.

Henri sighed before replaying the scenes prior to my Father’s death.

“The plan was pre-planned since you were adopted, Candice… You, coming here, were foreseen by the Queen and the Prime Minister a long time ago… the day when the Prince James returns. It has no set date, for no one knew when His Highness will return, or if he will ever return. But the late Crown Prince was ill, and Carsten knew the day will be coming soon. But not so soon, so he knew he had to fast forward things,” Henri explained, “He instructed me to pay one of the Prince's doctors a huge amount to inject the wrong drugs.”

Candice gasped.

“I’ve always regretted it. But thinking that I did it for you...” His voice trailed off.

“You, did it for me? Why? Is Carsten Regerett your Father too? Are you my brother?”

I finally turned around, and saw the shock on Henri’s face. He glanced at me once with apologetic eyes, before facing Candice. “How… How did you know?”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER! JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH HENRI!” Candice’s voice echoed.

“Carsten Regerett isn’t my Father, Candice. He isn’t yours as well, because you are my sister,” Henri took a few steps towards Candice, who stepped back that instantly. I motioned in between them.

“Don’t you dare!” My teeth were gritting in rage, “Carsten didn’t kill my Father. YOU DID!”

“Please… you must understand,” he defended himself, not to me, but to Candice. He was looking at her over my shoulder, “I did it for you… Carsten told me he will make you Princess, and I just wanted you the best…”

“Go!” I yelled, “Go or I swear to God I will have you sentenced to death! As a matter of fact, YOU DESERVE IT!”

“I need that doctor.”

POV: Candice Regerett

Henri gave me one last glance before he left the Royal Library. It was that look of remorse. And most especially, it was that look of a brother.

I wanted to run to Henri, and ask more questions about our parents, and how things ended as it did, but right now, there is a bigger issue.

As soon as the door closed, I felt Prince James collapse on the floor. He was just behind me. I didn’t dare look, for I have no more pride left.

So, my Father killed yours, will you marry me?

At the back of my head, there is still such denial. I keep on thinking everything was only a part of a dream, and I’d wake up realizing none of it real. I’d wake up in my room, at my Father’s estate, with the Crown Prince alive and well, and my Father being the way he’d always been. I’d wake up not in the Palace. I’d wake up not knowing the Prince.

But there’s also that regret afterwards. I don’t want it to be just a dream. I want some parts of it to be real. I want to be with Prince James. My life since Mother’s death has been calculated for me. Everything was stagnant. Everything was synchronized. And being at the Palace gave me just the right amount of spark. Prince James showed me a chance to relive my life. He gave me hope. He gave me a reason to take a break from books. It wasn’t just being with him that I wanted to stay, but staying because it doesn’t matter anyway, as long as I’m with him. He made everything feel special. He makes me feel special. He made me believe I have a purpose.

I’ve always believed that my Father was just being upright. I’ve believed that the way he treated me all this time were his ways to teach me lessons. I’ve believed that deep down inside of him, he was a good man, and he was proud of me. But the real question is, does he want me so bad to be the Princess, he’d resort to what he did? Will I be able to be one now?

I finally knelt beside Prince James, who lay on the floor, weeping and calling out his Father. Both his hands were covering his face.

“Prince?”

He winced, and looked at me.

What do I say?

“I’m… sorry…” was all I said.

He sobbed in between, “I don’t believe this. There must be another explanation.”

He shook his head repeatedly.

“I think we heard most of it,” I said, wiping out the tears in his face. He didn’t stop me, thankfully.

“You can’t protect your Father, Candice,” he stood up, his face reclaiming the usual blank expression, “He killed the Crown Prince. That’s treason. He’ll lose his honor.”

I rewind the memory of protecting my Father. I didn’t think much of it. My instincts just ran over. Hearing the Prince's words now, made me feel guilty for pulling him away from my Father. But that was before I heard the entire story. And now I don’t know how to react.

“I know he’s your Father. But he’s a murderer. You won’t stop me, right?” He had a tight grip on both my shoulders, and his tone sounded like a threat.

“What about me?” I asked, and he was taken aback. “I’ll be a murderer’s daughter, then.”

He looked away for a moment, and when he returned his gaze, he looked firm. “You aren’t his daughter. Not technically.”

I sighed, and he looked impatient.

“Then you need proof, outside Henri’s words,” I said.

“I know,” he replied, “I need that doctor.”

 “This game is a tie.”

POV: James Bret Nikolai Ravn Østergaard

After sending Candice back to her room, I am determined to have another conversation with the Queen. I need to seek her opinion on the matter. If I need to find the doctor, I need the Queen’s help. No one can say no to the Queen anyway. Well, at least for the most part.

I went my way back to the Royal Quarters, half-expecting to witness another argument between the Queen and Carsten Regerett, if she hasn’t yet driven him out. But when I reached the door, it was awkwardly silent.

I stepped in and saw Grandmother seated on one of the cushions. She didn’t budge on my presence. She had her grip on both arm rests of the couch, and she looked as pissed as I am.

“Grandmother?” I disturbed her thoughts.

She looked up to see me, but her expression was blank. She didn’t utter a word.

I invited myself forward, and sat on the couch across hers.

“Grandmother! We need to talk,” I said.

She chuckled sarcastically.

“No,” she waved her hand in the air, “You need to pretend you heard nothing today.”

I jumped back from my seat.

I need to pretend what? Did I hear it correctly?

“What…” I stuttered, “What… do you mean… Grandma?”

She was looking at me when she spoke, “It means nothing happened today. It means Prince Petersen died of his sickness alone.”

I couldn’t take it. I stood up abruptly. “How can you ask that of me, Grandma?” I shouted.

She didn’t move, nor did she look at me.

“I heard Olivia left today,” she said, her voice sounding calm, “Yet you didn’t leave with her,” she paused, “I will assume you had chosen my side. You have chosen Candice Regerett. Therefore, I won.”

“How can you say that? That’s not even the issue right now!” I blurted, “My Father died because of your Prime Minister! Your son died because of him!”

She inhaled deeply before replying, “He would have died anyway. In fact, I think the Prime Minister did him a favor, minimizing his agony…”

I stepped back, away from the Queen, shaking my head.

How can she say that?

How is this possible?

“Besides…” she spoke, “If you push this, it’ll damage Candice. It’ll damage me.”

“It doesn’t matter!” I shouted.

“Yes it does, Prince,” she replied, finally glancing at me. Her eyes weren’t as red as I expected. She hasn’t been crying at all. “How things ended benefited us all, don’t you think? You are the Crown Prince, and Candice will be your Crown Princess. In that case, we both won. I have secured the heir, and you have secured your wife. This game is a tie.”

I couldn’t directly answer her statement. And I felt somewhat guilty for considering it for a moment.

“Except,” I said, “Father wasn’t part of the game.”

“He’s collateral damage,” she reasoned, glancing away, “Regardless, he is dead.”

“Grandmother!” I screeched in disbelief.

“Why?” I asked desperately, “Why? Why are you protecting Carsten? Who is he to you?”

The moment I asked the last question, memories of the Prince Consort and the Queen arguing years ago about Grandmother committing adultery flashed before me.

Is it possibly?

Before she could answer, I asked another question, “Are you cheating Grandfather with Carsten Regerett?”

She stood up then, “No, James!”

A realization occurred to me, as I ask another, “Is…” I mumbled, not knowing how to bring out the question, “Is he your son?”

“No!” my Grandmother answered quickly.

“Then who is he?” I shouted once more.

“But…” her voice was weak as she turned away from me. When she reached the window, she continued speaking, “He was a Regerett too. It was in fact, Carsten’s Father.”

A moment of shock occurred to me as I couldn’t utter another word. I was just frozen at that instant.

She continued speaking, “Father was wrong. I proved him wrong.”

I stared at her staring at the view outside the window, as if travelling back in time as she spoke, “You have proved him wrong for me, James.”

She glanced at me for second before turning away, “A Regerett can enter the Palace indeed.”

I walked towards her. “Grandma?” I called, my voice resting, “Tell me everything.”

So by then, her story began.

It turns out that Grandmother was in love with Bernard Regerett in the early years but the late King Lupert refused to give his blessing to their relationship. King Lupert, my great-grandfather, then brought Prince Consort Nikolai to the Palace to marry off his daughter. Grandmother greatly declined until King Lupert was on his edge. She said the King’s words never left her mind since then as he said to the young Queen Margarett, “There will be no Regerett in the Palace… ever!”

“But Candice isn’t a Regerett by blood,” I commented after she finished the story.

“But she is. I made her. Carsten Regerett wed Eleanor Bragaard, who always had a weak heart. Therefore she cannot bear a child. I told him to adopt,” she explained.

“So,” I said, finally realizing, “You and Carsten planned everything.”

She nodded.

“Are you that desperate?” I asked, my voice rising, “You need to let go of this old grudge, Grandma. And like you said so yourself, you can’t bring the dead back to life, no matter what, Bernard Regerett is dead for good.”

“No,” she said, “You can’t ruin this for me.”

She was shaking his head repeatedly, as if possessed.

“You have to marry Candice, or else you can’t marry a murderer’s daughter. No matter what you do, my name will rise. If they question Carsten, he will mention me. I can’t have the public criticize the Royal Family,” she looked at me directly, “You can’t harm him without harming both Candice and I.”

“Then,” I replied, “I’ll find a way to prove his guilt without damaging both of you. I will in solid proof, so his mere words wouldn’t bear weight.”