Rebecca Winters: Matrimony With His Majesty

A bleak look entered his eyes. “Chaz was flying his light plane when he ran into bad weather over the Alps and crashed.”

“Oh how awful,” Darrell whispered, strangely moved by everything he said or did.

“It was one of the worst moments of my life,” he confessed.

She could hear the pain in his voice. “How old are his children?”

“Nine and ten.”

“Such vulnerable ages. My heart goes out to them and their mother.”

In the midst of the silence they heard Phillip say, “What are their names?”

They both turned in his direction.

Alex had been right to leave him be. His curiosity over his father had won out. No telling how long he’d been listening on the other side of the doorway. Darrell didn’t dare breathe while her son’s whole attention was focused on his fascinating father.

Alex glanced at him while he finished rinsing off the plates. “Jules and Vito.”

“One of the guys in my French class is named Jules. We all had to pick a name.”

Alex folded the dish towel. “What did you choose?”

“Philippe.”

“That’s your grandfather’s name.”

“I thought that was your name.”

“It’s one of them. But my mother and closest friends call me Alex so there’s no confusion.”

Phillip took another step closer. “Is he still alive?”

“No. He died six years ago. But your grandmother is very much alive. Her name is Katerina.”

“If you could never find my mother, how do you know about me?”

“Because I went searching for your father,” Darrell declared.

Phillip looked at her in disbelief. “But I thought you didn’t know anything about him.”

“I didn’t. But he gave your mom a very unique ring. I’d forgotten about it until a few weeks ago.”

That was a lie of course. The ring had haunted her for years, but it would still be in her old coat pocket if Phillip had let go of his pain.

“I decided to have it traced…and found your father.”

“When?” Phillip demanded.

“Yesterday.”

His astounded gaze switched back to his father. “You live in Chicago? I thought you were from New York.”

Darrell shook her head. “No, sweetheart. I never went to Chicago or New York.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Maybe this will help.” Alex pulled the ring from his pocket and handed it to Phillip who took it and began examining it with interest.

“This looks like a knight’s shield.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Alex asserted. “My cousin, Chaz, gave it to me when I turned sixteen. He had it engraved. It says, ‘More than a cousin.’ The shield represents the coat of arms of our family.”

Finally Phillip raised his head. “Where do you live?”

“Switzerland.”

Surprise and wonder broke out on Phillip’s face. “That’s where they speak four different languages. I learned about that in my French class. Which one do you speak?”

“All of them,” Alex answered.

“Even that funny one called Romanish or something?”

Alex smiled broadly, causing Darrell’s heart to flip over. “Especially that one.”

“How come?”

“Because my home is in Bris, the heart of the Romanche-speaking Canton. It might interest you to know there are five forms of Romanche, a language dating back to Roman times.”

“Do you speak those, too?”

“Yes.”

It was too much for anyone to absorb, especially a young American teen who’d just been united with the father he’d always wanted to meet.

“When I had to leave Colorado, I gave that ring to your mother to remember me by. It’s a family heirloom. Now it’s yours, Phillip. No one else in the world is entitled to wear it unless they’re a Valleder.”

“A Valleder?”

“Yes. If your mother and I had married, your legal name would be Phillip Collier Valleder. If you’ve got some tape, I’ll fix it so you can wear it now.”

“There’s some in the drawer.” Phillip opened it and handed the dispenser to Alex. In a minute the ring slid on his finger and stayed put.

Her son’s eyes squinted up at him. Darrell could hear his mind working. “What’s your legal name?”

“Alexandre Rainier Juliani Phillip Vittorio Valleder.”

“Whoa.”

A deep laugh escaped Alex’s throat. It was so contagious Phillip smiled. Darrell hadn’t seen one like it in years…

But when the laughter died down, Phillip grew sober again. “Do you have a wife and kids?”

Alex’s eyes were hooded as he said, “You’re my only child.”

“But at the end of this month he’s getting married to a woman named Isabella,” Darrell informed her son to make certain he understood the situation in no uncertain terms.

After reflection Phillip said quietly, “Did you love my mom?”

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