PART 4 — THE PRINCE WHO DIDN’T WANT A PALACE
The king wanted helicopters.
Security teams.
Doctors.
DNA specialists.
I said no.
Every royal adviser in the room looked offended.
King Richard did not.
“Explain.”
“If Eli is Nathaniel, then he has spent eight years thinking he is Eli Mercer. You cannot arrive at his home with twenty armed men and tell him his identity belongs to a country he barely knows.”
“He is my grandson.”
“And he doesn’t know you.”
The words hurt him.
They still needed saying.
Sebastian surprised me.
“She’s right.”
Less than three hours after watching his wedding collapse, he was helping prevent another family from collapsing.
We flew to Virginia quietly.
At Anchor Point, Eli was bent over an old mountain bike while Chief Raymond Collins, a seventy-one-year-old retired Navy mechanic, criticized him.
“You’re overtightening it.”
“I’m literally not touching the bolt.”
“Then you’re thinking about overtightening it.”
Eli looked up and saw me.
“Commander Bennett.”
Then he saw the men behind me.
His smile vanished.
“Why do you have Secret Service?”
“Not Secret Service.”
“Somehow worse?”
“Probably.”
Chief Collins squinted at King Richard.
“You one of those European politicians?”
The king extended a hand.
“Something like that.”
“Can you use a wrench?”
“I have people for that.”
Chief Collins frowned.
“We can fix arrogance. Takes time, though.”
Eli laughed.
The king almost did.
Then Eli realized nobody else was laughing.
“What happened?”
I called his parents.
Jack and Laura Mercer arrived twenty minutes later.
Jack instinctively positioned himself between Eli and the strangers.
I liked him immediately for that.
We sat around an old meeting table.
No cameras.
No palace insignia.
No announcements.
King Richard introduced himself.
Eli thought it was a joke.
Then Lady Evelyn placed a photograph on the table.
The bracelet.
A hospital intake record.
A childhood photograph of Prince Nathaniel.
Eli stared at it.
The resemblance was undeniable.
His hand moved to his necklace.
He pulled something from beneath his shirt.
A small gold compass.
King Richard began crying before anyone spoke.
Eli looked at his parents.
“Mom?”
Laura was already crying.
“It came with you.”
Jack swallowed.
“The adoption agency told us it was the only personal item recovered.”
King Richard asked permission to see it.
Eli hesitated.
Then handed it over.
On the back was an engraving worn almost smooth.
For Nate — so you can always find home. Love, Mama.
Eli stood so quickly the chair fell.
“No.”
I got up.
“Eli—”
“Don’t.”
He looked at his parents.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
Jack’s answer came instantly.
“We were told your biological family was dead. The records were a mess. We knew you came through an international disaster placement. That’s all.”
Eli pointed toward the king.
“Apparently they weren’t all dead.”
The king looked devastated.
“No. I was alive.”
Eli laughed bitterly.
“Great.”
He walked out.
Security started after him.
I stopped them.
“He needs to choose where he goes next.”
We found him on the pier behind Anchor Point.
He sat above the black water.
I sat beside him.
For several minutes, neither of us said anything.
Finally he asked,
“Are they going to take me?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll personally become a diplomatic incident before that happens.”
That earned half a laugh.
Then he stared at the water.
“Jack and Laura are my parents.”
“Yes.”
“But Richard is my grandfather.”
“Yes.”
“My biological parents died.”
“Yes.”
“And my name is Nathaniel?”
“It was.”
He looked at me.
“Was?”
“You’re still Eli if you want to be.”
“Can people do that?”
“I think today we’re making up rules.”
He nodded.
Then he whispered,
“I dream about the word Belle.”
My skin prickled.
“I always thought it was a bell ringing.”
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph opened.
Madison.
Her hands were bound.
She was sitting in the back of a van.
The next message read:
STOP SEARCHING OR YOUR SISTER WILL BECOME THE SECOND BENNETT THIS FAMILY LOSES.
Eli saw my face.
“What happened?”
I stood.
The past was done waiting politely.
Someone had taken my sister.
