Read Online Heir in Exile by Danielle Bourdon - Free Book Online Page A

pinched into a furious frown. “ How dare you speak to me of--”
    “Murder?” Sander interrupted, whispering. He glanced with ill disguised discretion toward the open doorway, then back. “Should I say it a little louder, father? Or do you have no care for your reputation? Perhaps you've gloated about the little maid whose life you took, hm?”
    Aksel struck Sander hard across the face with the back of his hand. The heavy, ornate ring adorning his finger left a small gash on Sander's jaw.
    Head snapping to the side, Sander accepted the blow and cut a knowing look at the King. “I was what? Thirteen? A young age to come across my father on the back end of a tryst with a butcher knife in one hand and a dead maid in the other. But I've kept your secret—that one at least—under wraps all these years. So don't stand on ceremony with me, acting as if you're a paragon of virtue.”
    Breathing hard, Aksel narrowed his eyes. “No one would ever believe you.”
    “No? But I know where you buried her. We'll just dig up her bones.”
    Aksel threw his head back and laughed. Full of apparent mirth, he turned away from Sander. One finger lifted to tick-tock in an I got you fashion. “Oh, but no. No, you won't. Because I moved her. Scattered her.”
    Sander's nostrils flared. The place where his morals lived protested violently at the grisly image Aksel's descriptive word sent through his mind. “I should have known.”
    “Yes, maybe you should have.” Aksel paused to pour himself a drink from a side bar. His hands shook. A splash of hard liquor landed on the counter before it hit the glass.
    “I still remember her name. I remember too many details to discount. Either way, you're guilty and we both know it. That's just one of several sins, should I go on?” Sander only paused for a moment, then he continued. “The point is—you are not sending me anywhere. Not off the throne, and not into exile. I won't allow it.”
    “You remember her name?” Aksel said, ignoring the rest.
    “Yes. Siona. She was one of the nicer women in the employ of the Royals at that time.”
    Aksel lifted the glass and took a stiff drink. And another. After, he chuckled. It turned into a laugh. The kind of laugh that tilted his head back and made his stomach quiver with the force of his mirth.
    “What could possibly be funny?” Sander asked, frowning. Not for the first time, he wondered just how unhinged his father really was. He had no doubt of his father's steady decline, though he suspected Aksel hid the truth of it from everyone. Even his wife.
    “How lucky you are that we won't be burying you beside her. She must be resting in twelve different spots, at least.” Aksel laughed again.
    Sander stared hard at the King. Aksel's sanity, at this point, was in serious question. Perhaps the idea of ripping the King off his throne before his time had more merit than Sander realized. “And why would you do that? Because I am the only witness?”
    “Because, you fool. She was your mother.”
     
    . . .
     
    Sander stared at the King with a blatant look of suspicious disbelief. The implications, if true, could be potentially devastating. “You're lying.”
    “No, son, I'm not. Siona was your mother. It wasn't a tryst we were having when you found us in the dungeon, it was an argument. She wanted you to know who she was, promised to keep it a secret if she could just have a mother and son relationship with you. Of course, that would never work. Secrets like that get out when they're in the wrong hands, and it wasn't a secret we could take any chances with.” Aksel finished off the entire glass and set the tumbler down with a sharp crack against the table. He used the side of his wrist on his mouth, smearing away stray droplets.
    “I don't believe you. The Queen--”
    “Helina had no choice. She went along, faking the pregnancy and birth. Only a very select few knew of the ruse. Everyone else in the castle believed it to be true. When Siona went