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‘There is no need to explain, I’ll happily sign the NDA.’
Evie missed the slight reddening of the assistant’s cheeks from the way she had accidentally interrupted the Queen of Iondorra as she bent over the legally binding document and signed her name. Evie might not know what was going on, but there was a heaviness about the woman who had once been known as the Widow Princess, before finding true love with a Greek billionaire. Theo Tersi had become the Queen’s consort when her father, King Frederick, had stepped down and Princess Sofia had claimed the throne.
The Queen’s assistant retrieved the document, placed his signature in what must have been the witness box, tore along the perforated edge of the paper and returned what looked like a bound thesis to her. Frowning, Evie scanned the blank cover, unable to resist running her hand over the royal insignia embossed into the thick red cartridge paper.
‘I’m afraid we don’t have much time,’ Queen Sofia explained, ‘so I have to be quite blunt. There is an item up for auction in Shanghai in three days. An item the vendor is claiming to have once belonged to the pirate Loriella Desaparecer.’
Evie stared at the Queen. ‘Loriella?’
Along with Gráinne Mhaol, Mary Read and Ann Bonny, Loriella Desaparecer was one of the most renowned female pirates of the eighteenth century.
‘Yes,’ Queen Sofia confirmed. ‘My father...he has...’ Evie waited while the royal gathered herself, sensing an emotional turmoil that was probably rarely seen by anyone. ‘It is not openly known yet, but my father has been suffering from early onset dementia for some time now and for the most part we have been managing quite well. He rallied at the birth of our daughter five years ago, but...there is something about this auction item that he has become fixated on. He has become quite adamant that we obtain it.’
‘Why is he so interested in this particular item?’ Evie couldn’t help but ask.
‘My father is convinced that it is the octant that was gifted to Princess Isabella before her travels by the English crown.’
Evie’s attention snapped like a band pulled tight. A thousand thoughts and conclusions were weighed, considered and discarded. While one part of her mind delved into what she knew about the eighteenth-century navigational equipment invented only years before Isabella had set sail for Indonesia, another part delved into her own personal history. For years Professor Marin had been working on the theory that Iondorra’s eighteenth-century princess had not, as believed, died during the sea journey that would have taken her to her Dutch fiancé in Indonesia, but had in fact become one of the most notorious female pirates of that tumultuous period. And Evie had assisted him. They had scoured research and resources across the world, chasing the tale of the Pirate Princess.
But in doing so they had become the laughing stock of the academic world, made worse when their work was renounced by Iondorra. Evie couldn’t blame them for laughing, because itwasfanciful andwasthe stuff of movies rather than reality. But she had believed in Professor Marin and she had believed where the research had taken them. They just hadn’t been able to find concrete proof. But if the Queen was here, taking the sale of the octant so seriously, then perhaps...
‘For obvious reasons, we cannot purchase this ourselves. So we would like you to attend the auction in Shanghai, assess the item, and if you feel that it is authentic and identifiable then we want you to obtain it at auction. The Dean of USEL has been apprised that I am in need of your services and has granted you a leave of absence, and we will, of course, pay for any and all expenses incurred.’
Evie’s mind was spinning, not with confusion but with what would need to happen if she agreed. The Queen had delivered a summation that was an order she could hardly refuse, but it was one that could cost her greatly. Returning to the research that had made her and Professor Marin a professional laughing stock could be the end of her career.
‘I must warn you, even if you are able to find a link between Isabella and Loriella, Iondorra will not be able to acknowledge it. We will soon have to release the news of my father’s condition. Talk of Pirate Princesses would be...’
‘Devastating,’ Evie concluded. ‘I understand.’ More than most, she supposed, knowing how damaging it had already been to her reputation and her fledgling career. Evie looked around the small lecture hall. For the two years since Professor Marin’s death it had been all she had known. No field work, no research. No one wanted to risk their precious funding on a ‘girl with no life experience with her head in the clouds rather than the past’. Just stepping outside of the comfort and privacy of her teaching position here at USEL was an enticement. But the Queen was also representative of the palace, who had refused to validate any of Professor Marin’s theories, or provide him with access to items and artifacts that would help.
But when Evie looked up at Queen Sofia, beneath the poise and grace she saw a grieving daughter, struggling with losing her father before her very eyes. A daughter who wanted to help her father find peace...find thetruth.
‘Your father, he needs this?’
‘I’ve not seen him so fixated on anything before,’ the Queen admitted, the tears of a child for their parent glistening in her eyes.
‘“It is not always important that the world knows our history. Sometimes it is enough for just one to know,”’Evie quoted.
‘Professor Marin?’ Queen Sofia asked with a gentle smile.
Evie nodded, wondering who would be most deeply impacted by this particular truth, if the auction item turned out to in fact have belonged to Isabella.
‘I would be happy to go to Shanghai,’ Evie decided.
The relief that softened the Queen’s tense features was fleeting but enough for Evie to know she had made the right decision. And if the auction item proved to be both from the Pirate Loriellaandthe Princess Isabella, then perhaps she might even be able to prove that Professor Marin had been right all along. Not immediately—as Queen Sofia had said—but eventually, perhaps. It would have to be enough for her. ‘But before I go to Shanghai I will need to go to Spain,’ Evie added.
‘Spain?’
‘It’s something I need to help with the octant’s authentication,’ Evie explained, thinking of Professor Marin’s old notebook. And in her mind’s eye, she saw a broad, dark figure walking away from her at the graveside.
‘Happy birthday!’
Mateo Marin pulled his mobile away from his ear as his mother’s squeals of delight pitched into static. He punched the speaker button on the phone and found a space for it on his desk.
Grabbing the presentation for the first meeting of his afternoon, he took a sip of coffee and nearly spat the tepid liquid out. Grimacing as he swallowed, he glared at the phone as he heard his mother ask what he was doing to celebrate.
‘Henri is coming over for drinks and a meal.’
‘Mateo! Is that all you are doing? How are you ever going to meet anyone if you just sit around drinking whisky with that boy?’
