Page 37 of The Prodigal Prince

“Come in.” Fiona stood to the side to let him pass her.

Gray pointed at the menu. “I wanna have a grilled cheese.”

Fiona smiled. “Of course you do.” She looked at Mac. “They’re his favorite.”

Mac sat near Gray. “They’re my favorite, too.” He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially. “I can ask the chef to make my super secret super special cheese toastie for us. How does that sound?”

Gray nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!”

“Yes,...?” Fiona prompted.

“Yes, please!” Gray said even louder.

She smiled at him. “That’s better.”

Mac chuckled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Let me order for us.” He tapped a few times then set it down. “Someone will bring it to us as soon as it’s ready.”

“Yay!”

“Now, I do need to talk to your mum about something important. We’re going to go to the other room for a few minutes, okay?”

Gray nodded. “Can I go outside?”

“That’s a great idea, bud. Stay on the ground. Don’t climb on the chairs, okay?” The last thing they needed was her son climbing on a chair so he could get a better look below.

“Yes, Mama!” He ran toward the French doors leading to the balcony.

Fiona didn’t let her smile dim until he’d made it outside. “What’s going on, Mac?”

The look on his face had turned much more serious as well. He leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his knees, and staring at his clasped hands. “My father has been in the news this morning.”

“Prince Isaiah? Isn’t he dead?” She sat where Gray had been a moment earlier.

Mac shook his head. “They still don’t know for certain, but probably. I mean my... I guess he’s my adoptive father, but if he knew about my biology, he would have said something a long time ago. I think. The more I’ve looked at a few things since we arrived, the more I think he believes he’s my biological father. I think. On one level, I don’t think Mum would want him anywhere near her for any reason. On the other, I wonder if she would have so she would give him the illusion that he was my father.”

That made sense, in a weird sort of way. “So what’s he in the news for?”

He handed her his tablet, already open to one of the Sargassian news sites. “He left the country before my mother’s memorial service. He and his much younger mistress went to the Mediterranean. They married a while later. She’s pregnant. He’s making a big deal about how this child is Esme’s and my sibling, ignoring the fact that our titles and everything came through Mum and not him. This child has no more rights to a title or financial support than any other child.”

“He has to know that, doesn’t he?” She used her finger to scroll down the web page as she skimmed the article.

“Of course he does. He’s trying to force his way back into our lives. I suspect he needs money and figures a sibling of the queen would have access to family financial support that he could use to finance his lavish lifestyle.” He continued looking at his hands rather than her. “If we don’t respond favorably, then we look petty and selfish, because it’s a fact that the child is our half-sibling.” He shrugged. “At least Esme’s.”

“What are you going to do?” Conflicting emotions ran through Fiona, as the sight of Mac walking away from her and their son swam in her mind.

Mac shook his head. “I don’t know. He won’t get unlimited access to any funds. I haven’t talked to Esme in a couple of hours, but I’m thinking about a fund for the child. Make certain the public knows how much it is. A substantial amount so they could live very comfortably, but not quite to the extent my father has enjoyed for the last few decades. If he came back and tried to claim they were living in squalor or didn’t have enough to eat, no one would believe him. It would backfire. When the child is old enough, they’ll be given access to funds for their education or other purposes, but notcarte blanche.”

It seemed like a sensible plan.

“I’m sure my sister’s attorneys will have better insight into the best plan. She’s probably meeting with them now.” He reached for the tablet and opened a different window, clearly looking for something. “No. She has a meeting with some local school children in a few minutes. She wouldn’t miss that except for a true emergency. Anything else can wait when the children are involved.”

“This is a big deal. I’m not trying to undermine that, but what does it have to do with me and Gray?” Or had she misunderstood his implications?

“It won’t take long for the two stories to become conflated. Anyone with two brain cells will know it’s a coincidence, regardless of whatever line the tabloids try to draw between our relationship and this child. The only way they might be related is if my father made the announcement now because he couldn’t stand the spotlight on us.” He leaned back and blew out a breath. “He’s petty enough to do that.”

“How much of a story are we? The fact that we have a child together seemed to blow over pretty quickly, even here in Sargasso.” She’d seen a couple of small stories, but not the kind of publicity she would have expected. “We didn’t have dinner out. We stayed on palace grounds. That balcony isn’t visible from the outside, is it?”

Mac shook his head. “Not really. The story would be about my son and why no one knew about it before now. It probably won’t be long before it comes out why I did what I did. Some people will understand. More won’t. Many will call on Esme to disown me since I’m not biologically our mother’s child. It could cause a national crisis of sorts.” He shrugged. “Probably not since she has children, but it’s possible.”

---