He was looking at her in such wonder, he didn’t have to say anything else. She felt it, too, felt it the second she saw in his expression that he knew exactly who she was. It was indescribable, the emotion that welled up in her because of it. She had only hoped to feel a smidgen of this when she came face-to-face with her parent, her real parent. She had no idea she’d be overwhelmed with it.
Papa.
She only formed the word on her lips, was afraid to say it aloud. If her bubble burst and she was somehow mistaken in what she was feeling, based solely on his reaction to her, the disappointment would crumble her. But he was already moving toward her, and she took a few steps to close the distance between them. Then she was engulfed in his arms, and warmth and love were in the word when she repeated it.
“Papa.”
She was crying. She couldn’t help it. And laughing. She couldn’t help that, either. And Frederick wouldn’t let go of her, was holding her too tight, but that was all right, too. It didn’t even matter to her anymore that he was a king. Nothing could disturb this newfound happiness—not even the vague sound of Christoph swearing behind them.
Chapter Forty-Three
WHEN DID YOU KNOW?” Frederick asked.
Christoph didn’t answer immediately. He was still swearing! Alana had chosen to stop listening to him after she caught a few of his more vulgar words. So she was standing happily in the circle of her father’s arms, her cheek pressed against his chest, oblivious to everything else. Frederick wasn’t embracing her as tightly now, but he still wasn’t letting go of her, either. She had no idea how long they had stood like that, soaking in the reality of each other.
But she definitely heard her father’s question and noticed how long it took Christoph to finally answer. “I wasn’t sure,” he said. “But our meeting with the nursemaid this morning left a sour taste. I felt you needed to see her for yourself before I tried to make sense of this and explain my suspicions.”
“What made you suspect?”
“Helga didn’t act as a mother should. She displayed angry disbelief when presented with a daughter returned from the dead, then fearful acceptance, but not once the joy of a mother reunited with her child. She felt it, too, no connection to her,” Christoph added, nodding at Alana. “That they weren’t related at all.”
Alana had to address that and turned to do so. Frederick resisted taking his arms off her so she could, but he put one arm around her shoulder instead, still unwilling to lose touch with her.
“I didn’t say that,” she told Christoph. “Only that it felt like we were strangers.”
He shrugged. “The same thing.”
“Send for Helga Engel immediately,” Frederick ordered. “I want to know why she did this to me.”
“She is already on her way here,” Christoph said. “When news of the attack was brought to me, we had to leave before I could voice my doubts to her. But I left a man there to escort her to the palace. Before the end of the day I promise you will have a full account of why she convinced you that her daughter was yours.”
Alana interjected, “She did give a reason, you know she did.”
“What?” Frederick asked, looking between them.
Christoph answered, “She said she was terrified of what would be done to her if something happened to the princess, that she would be blamed for it. She could have made up that story about switching the babies the very night the princess disappeared, not done so weeks sooner. But there is no point in speculating when we will have the answers today.” Then Christoph nodded toward Alana. “I gather she actually looks like your first wife, Queen Avelina?”
“Yes, uncannily so. But I feel it here, too.” Frederick put a hand to his heart. “There is no doubt.”
Christoph nodded. “I understand. I will leave you alone to get acquainted. I am pleased for you both.”
Frederick laughed. “You don’t sound pleased.”
Christoph waved a hand to excuse his manner. “This was not expected, as you know. I’ve been wrong before, but not to this extent.”
He started to leave, but Frederick’s voice stopped him. “Christoph, did you do—what we last discussed?”
Christoph hesitated only a moment before giving a brief nod. Frederick stiffened. “That is . . . unfortunate.”
Christoph merely nodded again in agreement before he walked out of the room. Alana wasn’t sure what had just happened, but her father was obviously upset about it.
Staring at the closed door, then at her father, Alana realized that cryptic question had been about Christoph’s treatment of her during his interrogations, which had been quite rough.
“He’s a barbarian,” Alana agreed, as if to say, What more would you expect? But then she realized whom she was saying that to and gasped.
But Frederick smiled as he led her to the edge of the raised throne platform, where he sat her down and sat beside her, stretching out his long legs before him and crossing them at his ankles. Such an unkinglike thing to do! Alana thought. It made her relax more than anything else he could have done just then.
“Occasionally, he is exactly that,” Frederick agreed with her. “And occasionally, it is useful. But most Lubinians resist change. At least my nobles try to progress, instead of clinging to the comfort of old ways. They set good examples—most of the time. Becker is very good at what he does, in whatever manner he does it.”
