The Royal Agreement

Chapter Nine

Mom and Dad were engrossed in watching a football league match, the kind of game that had them yelling at the TV screen like they were the ones coaching the teams. I was lounging on the couch, munching on a taco, when three sharp knocks echoed through the house.

The sound cut through the room like a knife, instantly pulling all our attention away from the game. We paused, the energy in the room shifting from excited tension to a heavy curiosity.

“I’ll get it,” I said, standing up and wiping my hands on a napkin before heading to the door. My heart thudded in my chest, a strange sense of unease settling over me. Who could be knocking on our door at this hour?

When I opened it, I was met by a tall man dressed in a black suit. He looked like something out of a spy thriller—serious, formal, and with an air of authority that made my stomach twist. His presence immediately put me on edge, the kind of edge where you feel like something important is about to happen, but you’re not sure if you’re ready for it.

“Is Mr. and Mrs. Savoy here?” he asked, his tone respectful but carrying an undercurrent of urgency that made me instinctively stand a little straighter.

“Yes, they’re here,” I replied, my curiosity piqued and my unease growing. Who was this guy? Why did he feel so… official? “May I know your name before I call them?” I added, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“I am from the Courts of Denmark. May I speak to your parents, my lady?” he replied smoothly as if the words Courts of Denmark should have been as familiar to me as my own name. But all it did was send my confusion into overdrive.

The Courts of Denmark? My mind whirled, trying to connect the dots that just weren’t there. Why would someone from the Courts of Denmark be standing on our doorstep, asking to speak to my parents? I nodded, too puzzled to say much else, and led him into the house, guiding him to the living room where my parents were sitting.

As soon as they saw him, their reactions were immediate. They both looked genuinely surprised, like they recognized him, but hadn’t expected to see him at our doorstep. I sank back onto the couch, my taco now completely forgotten as I watched this bizarre interaction unfold.

“Mr. and Mrs. Savoy,” the man said, giving them a deep bow. “I was sent here from the Court to inform you that your family’s presence is requested in Amalienborg.”

Amalienborg? My brain tried to make sense of the word. Wasn’t that the palace in Denmark? The royal palace? I knew this information because I had been researching about Denmark. I have such a strong pull towards the country like it was calling me.

I glanced at my parents, hoping their expressions would give me some clue about what was happening, but all I saw was a mix of tension and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

Mom and Dad exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them. The atmosphere now in our living room felt thick, almost stifling, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I felt like I was the only one completely in the dark, and it was frustrating.

“Who requests my family there?” Dad asked, his voice steady but with an edge that I rarely heard from him.

“The Queen and the Queen Mother, Sir,” the man replied with a grave tone. “The King is in critical condition.”

My head spun as I tried to process what I’d just heard. The Queen? The Queen of Denmark? Why would the Queen of Denmark be summoning my parents to her palace? This had to be a joke, right? I looked at the man, searching his face for any sign that this was some kind of prank, but his expression remained deadly serious.

Denmark. The Queen. The King is in critical condition. The words floated around in my head, refusing to settle into any kind of logical order. And then, like a flash of lightning, I remembered Victor—Victor suddenly leaving for Denmark, the rush, the urgency in his voice when he said his father was ill. My heart skipped a beat as I realized the connection. Could Victor be related to the royal family? Could he be… royalty?

No. That’s ridiculous, right? I mean, he never said anything about being a prince or whatever. But then again, how well did I really know him? He was from Denmark, he left in a hurry because of his father’s critical condition, and now my family was being summoned to the Danish palace by the Queen herself. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?

I watched as the words seemed to sink into my parents. Dad’s face tightened, and Mom’s eyes grew wide with concern. They didn’t seem shocked, not really. It was more like they were… resigned. Like they knew this was coming. Without hesitation, Dad nodded.

“Alright, we will go there at once,” he said, his voice firm, but I could hear the underlying tension.

“Of course, we will escort you, Your Ma—” My eyes narrowed but the man corrected himself immediately, “Of course, sir,” Then bowed deeply and turned to leave.

As he walked out, I felt a wave of questions crashing over me. How did my parents know the Danish royal family? Why were they being summoned now, and what did it have to do with Victor? I felt like I was on the brink of discovering something huge, but the answers were just out of reach, hidden behind the fog of my own confusion.

This was all too much. I wanted to piece it together, to be a detective in my own mind and figure out how all these puzzle pieces fit. But every time I thought I had a grip on one piece, it slipped away, leaving me more confused than before. It was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces—and those pieces were my own memories.

Maybe this was all related to my amnesia. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, filling in the blanks with whatever seemed to make sense. But the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t shake the feeling that Victor might be royalty. That this whole situation was something I should have remembered, something buried deep in the recesses of my mind.

But it was impossible to know for sure. And that uncertainty clinging onto me, making me feel like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, peering down into the unknown.

I couldn’t figure out what was real and what was just my mind trying to make sense of the chaos. All I knew was that something big was happening, and I was right in the middle of it. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to Denmark, and I had a feeling that nothing would be the same after that.

As the man exited the house, closing the door quietly behind him, Mom and Dad both sat down beside me on the couch, their expressions a mix of urgency and something else—something deeper that I couldn’t quite place.

“Ciella, we have to leave today,” Mom said gently, turning to me with a seriousness that made my heart skip a beat.

“But what about school?” I asked, my immediate concern for my studies bubbling to the surface. I was on track with my courses, and the last thing I wanted was to fall behind.

“We can arrange a leave of absence for you,” Dad replied. “But right now, we’re being summoned by the royal family. We have to be there.”

I frowned, the weight of the situation starting to settle on me. “Can’t it wait? I mean, what’s so urgent that we have to drop everything and go?”

“Stellina, no,” Mom said, her tone brooking no argument. “This is a grave matter we need to attend to.”

I stared at them, confusion swirling in my mind. “How do you even know the royal family? Why are they asking for us?”

Mom sighed, her eyes softening as she looked at me. “We were friends a long time ago, before… everything. Our families have ties, Ciella. It’s something we need to do.”

Dad nodded in agreement. “Please, pack now. The plane is probably waiting for us. We’ll explain more when we get to Denmark, okay?”

“Alright,” I said, though the word felt heavy in my mouth.

I stood up and headed to my room, my thoughts racing. What kind of answers would my parents give me when we got there? And why did I feel like there was so much more to this than they were telling me?

As I started packing, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there were pieces of a puzzle floating around in my mind, just out of reach. Maybe my parents knew the royal family well enough that my vague memories of Copenhagen were connected to them. It felt like there were a lot of memories, but they were fragmented, like shards of glass that I couldn’t piece together.

I busied myself by packing the essentials, trying not to overthink, when I came across a small wooden box tucked away in my drawer. Curious, I opened it and found a ring nestled inside. I’d never seen it before—or at least, I didn’t think I had.

It was beautiful, with two stones placed side by side—one a deep blue, the other clear like a diamond. The band was white gold, intricately designed to look like vines wrapping around the stones, holding them together. It was stunning, and I had no idea where it came from or who might have given it to me.

I slipped the ring into my hand carry, feeling a strange connection to it despite not knowing its origin, and continued packing. I felt like I have to bring it. As I was folding some clothes, I spotted an old photo peeking out from the bottom of my drawer.

I picked it up, examining it closely. The girl in the photo looked like me, but I didn’t remember taking this picture. I was standing in front of a grand palace complex, but I couldn’t recall where it was. The image stirred something deep within me, but like so many other things, it was just out of reach.

I sighed loudly as I finished packing and hurried downstairs. Mom and Dad were already ready to go, their bags packed and waiting by the door. They were watching me closely, and I could see the concern in their eyes.

We stepped outside, and once again, a convoy of three black cars was parked in front of our house, waiting for us. As I approached the cars, a thought crossed my mind—Victor was from Denmark, too.

He had been summoned back suddenly because his father was critically ill. But he couldn’t possibly be related to the royal family, could he? There were plenty of wealthy families in Denmark, so it made sense that Victor might just be part of the aristocracy.

But still, the coincidence was too loud to even dismiss.

As we got into the car, I couldn’t stop thinking about Victor. His promise echoed in my mind: I’ll see you soon, I promise. And now, here I was, on my way to Denmark, the very place where he had been urgently called back to. Was it fate? Or just a bizarre twist of circumstances?

The drive to the airport was quiet, the weight of everything was heavy in my chest. The questions swirling in my mind felt heavier with each passing minute. What kind of ties did my family have with the Danish royal family? And why did it feel like the answers were just within reach, but still so elusive?

As we boarded the private plane, I felt a mixture of excitement and fear bubbled in my chest. I had a feeling that Denmark held the key to many of the mysteries in my life—answers to questions I hadn’t even thought to ask.

But what would those answers be? And was I ready to face them?