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She looks at me, dumbfounded. “Of course, the king is your father. You knew that already.”
I look straight at my mother and tell her something she never knew was happening under her nose. “Father had planted enough doubt in me over the years that never I knew for sure. But here it is.”
Mother hands the document over to my father, and he examines it. “And?” the king asks haughtily.
“And there’s the proof,” Kala says impatiently. “Don’t you think you owe your son and wife an apology?”
The king steps toward my wife, but I place myself between them.
Strangely, the servants have all disappeared.
“You may be a princess, but you will speak to the king with deference,” says my father.
“In this room, it’s just family. I’m your daughter-in-law, and I’m speaking to you as a member of this family. What you did…”
Everyone’s gaze turns to her as her words falter. I slip my arm around her shoulders.
“My dear, I didn’t choose you because I wanted you to be a part of the family,” says the king. “Paying off your father’s debt was one thing. But I also knew you were marrying a mess of a man. I knew my son would be a project for you and keep you out of my way. But apparently, it wasn’t enough.”
I've never seen this woman speak to my father like this before. It's rather exciting. “We’re all a mess in our own way," she says. "The problem now is that you refuse to accept responsibility for your role in the current chaos.”
“The pair of you made the royal line appear weak,” the king says with a grunt.
My wife is far from finished, and I won’t be the one to stifle her. “Telling a 12-year-old boy that he isn’t your son and that if he breathed a word about it, he and his mother would be cut off? Is that how you show strength?”
The queen gasps. “Otto, is this true?”
The king gestures wildly. “Do you believe her word over mine?”
The queen stands. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”
“I never accused you of being unfaithful,” the king blusters.
The queen draws herself up and squares her shoulders. “Did you tell your 12-year-old son you were not his biological father?”
“There’s no reason for it. Why would I do that?”
“Because, Father,” I say drolly, "you would do and say anything to keep me in line. By the time I was 12, I’d sent four tutors into retirement. I’d been picked up five times for shoplifting, and the papers were having a field day when the shopkeepers could no longer keep sweeping it under the rug. So, you told me I didn’t have any claim to the throne and that you would keep me in the line of succession despite these facts because you were such a good person. It was our little secret. You wanted to protect Mother. And it would be my fault if that secret ever got out.”
I’ve never said those words out loud to anyone but Dr. Brahms.
“I’m going to be ill,” Kala says, slumping into a chaise.
“The stories you come up with.” The king waves a dismissive hand and walks to the window.
“These are not stories, Father. This actually happened,” I say. “And it will all be in the papers tomorrow if you do not publicly set the record straight. They’ll know everything about you that first drove me to drink.”
The king turns on me. “You would put every detail out there? You would present your weakness out there for the world?”
Torben pipes up. “That’s the difference between you and the rest of us. We’re not afraid of looking weak. You should be proud your son is getting help.”
The king rounds on my brother. “Why are you even here?!”
The shouting is so loud that Torben steps back, and Hailey reaches up and rests a protective hand on her husband’s shoulder.
“Dude, you need help. You’re completely toxic,” Hailey points out to the king. The American is not wrong.
“Out! All of you!”
