Read Princess Electra Book 4 School of Medicine Page 20

  Chapter 19

  Kingdom of Henge

  Prince Blackwell waited patiently in his solarium. He had sent a messenger to fetch his father after hearing the latest report from his finance minister. He would be fair but firm this time. Spending on the theatre project must be reined in.

  The prince heard the double tap of his father's wooden leg and cane growing near. He stood to welcome his father to this difficult interview.

  "Father. So good of you to come promptly. I hope I have not inconvenienced you."

  "You have as it happens. I can't stay long. I have business with the theatre builders. What is it you want?" The old king frowned at his son.

  "Please, have a seat. I will be as quick as I am able." Prince Blackwell gestured toward a chair.

  His father sat down with a thump and leaned forward. "Well?"

  Prince Blackwell hesitated for a moment while he assumed a serious, yet concerned, expression. "I spoke to our finance minister this morning."

  Old Blackwell made an impatient circle with his cane—his way of saying, 'get on with what you have to say'.

  Prince Blackwell's expression mirrored his irritation. "The fact is you are spending too much on the theatre. And this new addition to house the actors is beyond generous. It is absurd. I can not allow it."

  Phinneas jutted his chin forward and glared at his son. "Fine. I will pay for their quarters with my own funds."

  Prince Blackwell shook his head. "Your funds will not cover this magnitude of expenditure." He struggled to soften his voice. "Why is this project so important to you? I almost long for the days you hungered only for war."

  His father's face broke into a smile. "Nothing has changed there. Do you wish to speak of war?"

  Prince Blackwell laughed. "No, no. I wish to find some common ground with you. But this theatre--it makes no sense."

  Old Blackwell stared at the floor. He seemed to be making some sort of decision. He looked his son in the eyes. "What if you were to learn you had a brother?"

  Prince Blackwell furrowed his brow in confusion. "What kind of brother?" Are you telling me you share some sort of kinship of feeling with these actors?"

  Old Blackwell shook his head in disgust. "No, I'm talking about you. What if you were to learn you had a brother?"

  Prince Blackwell threw his hands in the air. "Why are we playing this game of pretend? Is this how you and your actors spend your time? Imagining? But never mind. I will play along." He pursed his lips together and stared into space. "I suppose I would ask, where have you been hiding all these years, my brother, and why is there no record of your birth in the family annals?"

  Phinneas stared back at his son. "The answer would be, he has been hiding in Fernland and there is no record of his birth because he was born out of wedlock. He is your half brother, but still my son."

  Prince Blackwell's face turned pale. His lips moved but no sound came out. "Who is he?" Prince Blackwell finally stammered.

  "Take, the leader of the acting troupe. His real name is Phinn. He was named for me."

  "And his mother?"

  "A gypsy girl who worked at the castle. She is dead now."

  "You abandoned her?"

  "It was not my intention, but yes, I did."

  Prince Blackwell sat silently, trying to digest this information.

  "The girl, Drina was her name, she understood that I could not claim him as my son. Your mother was still alive." A guilty look crossed the old king's face. "But she was ill. She never really recovered from giving birth to you."

  "I only remember her as ill," the prince said sadly.

  Both men were silent for a moment.

  "Drina wanted to move away—raise the child where the past could not affect him. I felt she was correct in that. She did not want much from me. I sent a soldier with a gold coin every month. He reported back to me on how they were faring."

  Prince Blackwell nodded but did not interrupt.

  "I had thought to find him a place as an apprentice eventually. He could not have been more than twelve years old when his mother died."

  Prince Blackwell's expression turned to alarm.

  Old Blackwell patted the air with his hand.

  "I tried to find him. That fool of a courier found out his mother was dead and decided to return with my gold coin leaving the boy behind. I sent spies to scour Fernland. I knew his name was Phinn. But by then he had left home to make his own way in Fernland's marketplace. I suppose he was able to swipe a little food here and there and that is how he got the name--Take the Thief."

  Prince Blackwell looked horrified. "And you never found him?"

  "Not until he came to the gypsy camp. He sent friends to the castle to seek out anyone who might have known a man called Phinn."

  "Good Heavens! You might have told me sooner."

  "Why? I supposed he must have died as well. I have no luck keeping those I love."

  Prince Blackwell shook his head, still swimming in the ramifications of this news. He faced his father and spoke in a gentle voice.

  "So you want this theatre to keep him near you?"

  Old Blackwell shrugged. "I doubt he'll stay no matter the theatre. I just felt I should do something for him."

  Prince Blackwell felt drained and in need of time alone. Despite his father's misery, he wished even more that the old man would give up the theatre project. Take was a grown man now. There was little likelihood of his becoming part of the family.

  Both men looked up as Serafina entered with the twins.

  She studied the dour faces of the two men. "We have come to say goodbye. We are ready to leave for Helsop."

  "Please stay for a bit," Prince Blackwell said. "I have something to tell you." He took a deep breath. "It seems I have a long lost brother."

  "Take the Thief?" Serafina asked in a pleasant voice.

  Prince Blackwell held his hand against his chest, as though to cushion his heart. "You knew?"

  "I suspected." Serafina looked at the old king. "He favors you in his physical appearance."

  Phinneas nodded. "Do not worry. He was born out of wedlock. He has no claim on the throne."

  Serafina smiled. "I was not worried." She turned to face her husband. "We will return as soon as we are able."

  "You are still leaving now?" Prince Blackwell's voice held his surprise.

  "Yes. I am taking Ebony as well. She waits with the horses."

  "But..." Prince Blackwell seemed lost for a moment, then gathered himself and stepped forward.

  "I will walk out with you." He picked up a twin in each arm and started toward the door. Glancing back at his father he said, "I will return shortly. We have not finished this discussion."