Chapter 352 – Duke
Ella
“D-duke?” I stutter out, completely overwhelmed by the information, my eyes going wide. “There are dukes? And I had I have an uncle!?”
“I’m sorry,” Henry says, and I can see the guilt written all over his face. “I overlooked this – honestly, no one has heard from him in years – and, considering what we think he was actually getting up to, it makes a great deal of sense that he wanted everyone to believe that.”
“Who,” I say, frantic now, looking between Henry, and Sinclair, and Roger – Cora, I see, looking at me with worried eyes, but I know she doesn’t have any answers – “who is he?”
“Relax, Ella,” Sinclair murmurs to me, leaning close. “It’s all right -”
“It is absolutely not all right -“I snap, not wanting to be mean but completely panicked right now. “My father is dead but I have an uncle? Seriously? And no one told me?”
Henry continues to hang his head, shaking a little, and I instantly feel guilty. It’s not his fault – it’s so complicated, the politics, and why would he tell me about an uncle if he hadn’t spoken to the man in 30 years had genuinely assumed he was dead –
“I’m sorry, Henry,” I say quickly, leaning forward to put a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry – I’m behaving so poorly – ”
“No, Ella,” Henry says, moving his attention back up to me. “Your reaction is absolutely correct. I have failed you in this.” His eyes shift to Sinclair now. And you, son.”
“We have to stop this,” Sinclair says, shaking his head. “Honestly, the blame game does no one any good. No one blames you, dad and Ella, you don’t have anything to apologize for. We all know this is a lot. So, can we please?” he says, pausing now to look around the table. “Can we continue? There is… more…”
I groan a little and give Henry’s arm a little squeeze to let him know I don’t blame him for any of it, and that I love him dearly and am grateful for him every day. At least, I hope he gets all that from a squeeze, but the little smile he sends me suggests that he understood at least part of that. And I feel instant relief.
“Xander was your father’s older brother, Ella,” Sinclair informs me briskly, I think a little irritated at the disruption and wanting all of the information on the table now so that we can decide to do something, instead of just talking about it. I smile at him a little, loving my all-action Alpha mate who is ready to go even though he almost got burned to a crisp yesterday.
“He was much older,” Henry says, ” and there were always…rumors about whether or not his father was his biological father. Either way, Xander was recognized, but he was never the favored son. That is why Xavier – stronger, faster, smarter, better-liked – took the throne instead of Xander.”
“A stance which I actually think is quite clever,” Roger quips, and I’m shocked to find a smile on my mouth as he delicately raises his brows, looking up at the ceiling. “I mean, some of us think that the better-looking brother should always take the throne – ”
And while Sinclair growls and Cora elbows Roger not-too-gently in the stomach to get him to stop, I grin at my brother-in-law, grateful for the laugh which has drained some of my tension away. He gives me a little wink in response.
“Anyway,” Sinclair continues, glaring at his brother, “Xander was never a popular figure in politics – he was always fringe, always very much the King’s sullen brother rather than a real player. When Xavier died, Xander…he wasn’t even considered for the throne. No one said his name, not even him, as a potential heir.”
“Which,” Henry adds, “was perhaps… the mistake. That started all of this.”
“Started what?” I ask, confused again.
“Ella,” Henry says, taking my hand. ” Nothing is for sure. But our best guess, at this point, is that…well, that Xander put this in motion. That he knew he was never a contender for the throne when his brother died but he coveted it anyway 1 that Xander wanted it, perhaps his whole life, and certainly after his brother died, but when no one mentioned him as a potential heir he started to devise a new plan to get what he wanted.”
“A longer plan,” I whisper, sitting back against my chair. “To – to reclaim the throne. To keep it…in his family’s line.”
And my eyes drift back to Rafe now, cooing gently in his father’s arms. My baby, the grandson of a King. The nephew of a Duke that, perhaps, always wanted to be in charge.
“It makes sense,” Roger says softly. ” Honestly, it makes so much sense that we were fools not to consider it before now. Who benefits from Rafe being born? The man who intends to kidnap him and put him on the throne as a puppet, acting as regent for eighteen years before Rafe is old enough to rule himself.”
“I don’t think we’re fools to have overlooked Xander,” Sinclair rumbles beside me. “I haven’t heard Xander’s name since I was a child – I, too, thought he died in quiet obscurity. He’s taken great pains, I think, to ensure that everyone assumed that he did. He is playing the long game – we’re not total idiots for falling into the traps he’s taken twenty years to lay. We’re simply outplayed.”
“So,” I interrupt, still wanting more details. “Can you – I mean -” I exhale quickly, closing my eyes and gathering my thoughts, “is the assumption that we’re making here that Xander wanted Rafe to be born so that he would be a legitimate heir to Xavier’s throne? Is that it?”
“Yes,” Sinclair says, confirming what I’ve pieced together. “We know that Reina told Xavier about you on his deathbed he must have found a way, somehow, to communicate your existence to his brother before, or directly after, his death – I don’t know. A note, a letter perhaps.”
“So why didn’t he come for me?” I ask, brisk. “To be the heir?”
Sinclair and Roger hesitate, looking at each other. “Well,” Sinclair says carefully, “your mother did a very good job hiding you at the orphanage, which actually emphasizes the story. She could have had you raised by a well- known human family, but she chose an orphanage to disguise you.”
“But no,” I say, looking at Cora. ” They knew they knew we were there. Yes? The dark priests – if they were the ones who are looking to Xander for some reason as their master – they knew that Cora and I were in the orphanage. They followed us our whole lives! So…”
I draw my brows together, trying to figure it out. If Xander wanted an heir… why didn’t he just come to get me?
“Ella,” Sinclair says, tightening his arm around my shoulders. “Xavier and Xander they were deeply old-school Alphas. They come from a world where .” he hesitates again, looking down at the floor. My eyes flash as I figure out what he’s not saying.
“Seriously?” I breathe. “Seriously, my uncle my blood family – left me in the orphanage because I was a girl? Because he didn’t see me as a legitimate heir to the throne?”
Sinclair looks up at me with sad That’s our best guess eyes. for Ella,” he now, says softly, shaking his head slowly at me. “That he contracted the priests – or perhaps was always aligned with them, and called to them to watch over you. But that he had no real interest in you as a person. Merely in…” he hesitates, his eyes drifting to my stomach.
“Oh,” I say, my heart sinking – though I don’t know why. I just – just can’t imagine someone being so callous to a child, especially their niece… “I was always just…a broodmare to him…” I murmur, looking over at my baby.
“Rafe, a male heir, was always the goal,” Sinclair agrees. “We think Xander bided his time, and then – when all of his pieces were in place – he …arranged it all.”
“But why,” I ask, suddenly confused. ” Why did he pick you as the father?”
