“Shh,” he finally said. “It was my fault for telling you everything at once. It was too much. And I expected you to hate me now.”
“No! I don’t! I love you, Poppie. Nothing will ever change that.”
“Then you can forgive me?”
It was hard to say yes, but not so hard to say, “I know you’re not like that anymore. You’re good and kind, and you’ve helped so many people.”
She felt his relief as he hugged her more tightly. She leaned back so he could see she was sincere. His eyes were moist, too, as he tenderly wiped her cheeks with the back of his fingers. She still felt a sense of dread about the other things he’d said. She couldn’t let him think she was willing to go to Lubinia when she wasn’t.
“Poppie, please, at least tell me that some of what you said was a lie,” she beseeched him now. “Please tell me I’m not the daughter of a king.”
“I can’t do that,” he said sadly.
She closed her eyes. “Everything I love is here in London. I don’t want to leave. I want to teach. I want to help people as you have.”
“Then help your country by preventing a war, princess. Only you can do that, you know. I wouldn’t take you back for any other reason except so many lives are at stake now, lives that you can save by standing beside your father to prove he does still have his heir.”
Chapter Six
POPPIE WAS TAKING HER home to Lubinia. Her father wasn’t dying. He had made numerous public appearances to prove it, according to Poppie’s informant. But that hadn’t helped, not when his enemies were spreading the rumor that he had a weak heart that wouldn’t last much longer. Some people were even blaming his weak heart for his inability to produce another heir in all these years. Many of the commoners who were being agitated were so backward they believed these lies. So only she could put their fears to rest.
Of course she had to go back to Lubinia, there was no question. Her own hopes and dreams were meaningless next to saving lives. But after the rebels had retreated and their lies had been disputed, she was still going to be left with a father she didn’t want, and a new life she wanted even less.
There was nothing to keep them from leaving England immediately. Thanks to Poppie’s efforts over the years, the orphanage had a long list of benefactors supporting it now who would continue to run it. And Alana already had a brand-new wardrobe for the London Season that was befitting of a princess. A real princess. No endearment after all. And she never once suspected. How could she have thought the term was more than an endearment when the truth was still so hard to accept?
She knew Poppie didn’t plan to return to England himself—because he didn’t think she ever would, and he intended to remain close to her. He made it clear they weren’t returning when he gave his house to Annette to live in or to sell, whichever she pleased. But when hugging her friend good-bye, Alana whispered, “I’ll be back.”
She would, too. She’d do whatever she had to do to remove the threat of war from the country of her birth, but then she’d tell her father to get himself another heir. She didn’t share these brave thoughts with Poppie, but she held them close in her heart and mind. Otherwise, she’d be terrified of what lay ahead, instead of just nervous.
The only bright spot upon leaving the home she loved was Henry Mathews’s crawling into the coach the morning of their departure. With his endearing, cheeky grin, he told her, “I’m goin’ with you! Imagine that, eh? Me, crossin’ the bleedin’ Continent. Who’da ever thought?”
All she could think to do was hug him, she was so delighted. Later at the docks when they had a moment alone, Poppie explained, “I know how fond you are of the boy. I thought he might make this trip a little easier for you. And once you’re reunited with your father, he’s someone I can trust to get messages to you.”
She guessed it might be more that Poppie had grown accustomed to raising a child and Henry would make a fine replacement for her. That saddened and gladdened her equally. But Henry did help keep her mind off what lay ahead for at least some of the trip, especially during the hours she worked with him on his studies, including teaching him the Lubinian language.
She had been taught the two main languages they encountered most frequently on the journey, and a smattering of others. Ever since she’d learned German, she had understood Poppie whenever he had spoken to her in Lubinian, since the two languages were so similar. She hadn’t realized he’d been doing it deliberately to prepare her for this unwanted future.
Poppie kept reminding her of her extraordinary future in his efforts to get her to think more kindly of the country he loved. “Lubinia is not perfect, but it can be,” he told her. “And in a perfect world, you can have what you want. I see no reason why you can’t teach in the palace. Children can be brought to you. I see no reason you can’t continue to do so after your marriage.”
“Which won’t be of my choosing, will it?” she said bitterly.
He sighed, admitting what she’d already guessed. “As a royal, your husband is bound to be handpicked for you, and your marriage will likely be in service of a political alliance that will benefit the country. But you will be reunited with your father. He isn’t going to want to let you go off soon into a marriage. And while most royals grow up aware of their responsibilities and knowing what their future holds, you didn’t. The king might take that into account.”
“And give me a choice?” she scoffed, not believing it for a minute.
“I detect anger. Do you really not want—?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she cut in, but then she tried to ease his worry with the truth. “I’m just nervous, afraid I won’t like my father or, worse, might even insult him with my disdain.”
“This is my fault. Don’t make my contempt yours. This plot that involved you is the only instance where his leadership has been questionable. But I’m sure there are reasons why it hasn’t been resolved, and we will learn of them soon enough. He’s a good man, Alana. I was in the streets the day of your birth, when Frederick’s heir was shown to the crowds. It didn’t matter that you were female, the cheers from the crowd were deafening. Your father has been well loved by his people.”
“Then why do they want to dispose of him?”
“Fear. They’re being made to think he will die soon, leaving them without a king. Most are willing to wait until that happens. It’s the younger men who are being stirred to revolt, those who don’t remember why the old regime was overthrown. But this conspiracy will die a quick death with your return. Don’t worry, you will love the king. How can you not? He’s your father.”
What if she did? What if she was so delighted with him that she’d willingly do anything he asked of her, just to please him? That wasn’t a kernel of hope, it would be a dilemma!
“I have trained you for this day,” Poppie continued, “for you to assume your rightful place, and for you to be able to protect yourself. But I didn’t know how to train you to be a ruling monarch. I did my best by giving you the widely diverse education a young nobleman would receive.”
