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“Yes, you’re right, dear. You would know. Never mind.”
Her aunt’s quick compliance confused her even more. And she started thinking back about her life and how she’d never really seen any official documents regarding the Lindstrom monarchy. They’d been figureheads, holding no great power, yet she’d never known much about her homeland. It wasn’t talked about. It seemed from her recent research the monarchy started to take shape in the United States, just after World War II.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured. Her body began to tremble as tears stung her eyes. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you? I’m not a princess.”
Her aunt’s eyes softened, dimmed by sorrow. “I’m sorry, Portia dear.”
“But how can I believe that? How can that possibly be true?”
Could she take the word of an elderly senile woman who went in and out of coherency?
“There’s a diary,” her aunt said. “Joanna kept a secret diary.”
“Where?” Now Portia would get to the truth. “Where’s the diary?”
Aunt Margreta pointed to the bookshelf against the far wall overflowing with books. “Behind Agatha Christie.”
Portia strode over to the bookshelf. Her hands were shaking as she parted half a dozen mystery novels. She lifted a weathered, navy blue soft-covered book from the shelf and brought it close to her chest. It had no title on the cover. Her heart racing, she took her seat next to Aunt Margreta and began reading the words that made a lie out of her entire life.
* * *
Portia lay quietly on her sofa, a cool towel on her forehead. She’d cried a river full of tears and every cell in her body was now drained. Princess Portia Lindstrom of Samforstand no longer existed. She never had. She was a fraud, a fake. An imposter. How could her family do this to her? How could they have perpetrated a lie that would affect her entire life?
How cruel.
How unjust.
Damn the circumstances behind their decisions right now. Their bold blatant betrayal was all that mattered to her. How dare they mislead her and let her believe in the fairy tale? She wasn’t the snow queen. Hell, once the truth got out, she’d be deemed the black witch.
She’d been involved in one scandal already and it had taken years to live that down. But this? This was too much. The press would devour her. They’d make her out to be the villain, a lying deceiving bitch out to ensnare a wealthy king.
The humiliation alone would destroy all the positive good Juan Carlos had done for his country.
She muffled another sob. She didn’t have it in her to shed more tears.
Feeling empty, she closed her swollen eyes, unable to rid herself of the thoughts plaguing her. The lies she’d been told, the deceptions perpetrated by her family. What of her career? Most importantly, what would she do about Juan Carlos? He was king, and as king he was pledged to only marry a woman of royal heritage. It was his destiny. It was what the citizens of Alma expected. Juan Carlos was the most dutiful man she’d ever known. This would destroy their relationship.
The towel was removed from her head. “Feeling better yet? Want to get up?” Jasmine asked.
“Nooooo. I don’t want to ever get up.”
Jas sat down on the floor beside the sofa. “Hey, that doesn’t sound like the Portia I know. You’ve been wallowing for two hours.”
“I’m not the Portia you know. I’m not... I don’t know who I am. And I have a right to wallow.”
“Yes, it sucks. But Portia, you are you, no matter if you have the title of princess or not.”
“It’s just...it’s just so darn humiliating. I feel like a fool. I feel, well, I feel like everything’s a lie. My childhood, my upbringing, my friends.”
“Hey, watch it there.”
“You know I don’t mean you.”
Jasmine reached for her hand and squeezed. “I know.”
“All the doors that have opened for me because of my title, Jas... Those people will think the worst of me. They’ll think I deliberately deceived them to get ahead in my career.”
“When in truth, we know, they were using you. They wanted to be associated with a princess. So it was a trade-off. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m ashamed of everything.”
“And angry.”
“Yes, of course. I’m spitting mad at my family.”
“I’m not justifying what they’ve done, honey. But they came to the States after the war destitute, and like so many immigrant families, they didn’t know how they’d survive here. And, well, pretending to be royalty from a tiny country...”
