Chapter 9 - WELCOME TO VELKRIA
The fighter pilot’s voice came over the radio.
“Unidentified aircraft, change heading immediately.”
Marcus looked at Rovan.
“Can they shoot us down?”
“Yes.”
“Fantastic.”
Alina took the radio.
“This is Alina Petrovna.”
Silence.
Then:
“Repeat.”
“Princess Alina Petrovna. Service number A-001-77.”
Rovan stared.
“You remember your royal clearance?”
“My father made us memorize it.”
The fighter pilot returned.
“That identification is invalid.”
“Then ask Colonel Darek at North Command what he stole from the palace kitchen on my fourteenth birthday.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
“What did he steal?”
“My birthday cake.”
Thirty seconds passed.
The fighter jets remained beside them.
Then the pilot came back.
“Princess Alina.”
His voice had changed.
“He says it was chocolate.”
Alina smiled for the first time in hours.
“Tell him I still haven’t forgiven him.”
One fighter peeled away.
The other moved ahead.
“Follow me.”
They landed at an abandoned military strip in the mountains.
Twenty soldiers waited.
Every rifle pointed toward the aircraft.
Alina descended the stairs.
A gray-haired colonel stepped forward.
Darek.
He stared at her.
Then slowly removed his cap.
One by one, soldiers lowered their weapons.
Darek bowed his head.
“Welcome home.”
Alina hugged him.
The old soldier froze, then hugged her back.
“You got old,” she whispered.
“So did you.”
“I’m twenty-six.”
“Royalty ages faster.”
Marcus stepped down behind her.
Darek frowned.
“Who is the American?”
Marcus offered his hand.
“The guy paying for the plane.”
Darek shook it.
“I like him already.”
They traveled through mountain roads toward the capital.
Velkria appeared below them by sunrise.
Stone villages.
Green valleys.
Church towers.
And distant mountains Alina had dreamed about every night for three years.
She cried silently.
Marcus pretended not to notice.
The capital had changed.
Military checkpoints filled the streets.
Posters of Regent Stefan covered buildings.
Tomorrow’s coronation banners showed Leo wearing royal blue.
Darek led them into an old wine cellar beneath a monastery.
Dozens of loyalists waited.
Former soldiers.
Teachers.
Factory workers.
Students.
An elderly woman approached Alina and slapped her.
Everyone froze.
Alina touched her cheek.
The woman’s eyes were filled with tears.
“My son died looking for you.”
Alina swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
“You disappeared.”
“I had no choice.”
“We all had choices.”
The woman’s voice shook.
“My son chose you.”
Alina nodded.
“And I will spend the rest of my life trying to deserve that.”
The woman stared at her.
Then embraced her.
That hurt more than the slap.
Darek spread a palace map across the table.
“Leo is inside the eastern wing.”
Rovan pointed.
“We enter through the old chapel tunnel.”
Alina frowned.
“That tunnel was sealed when I was twelve.”
Darek smiled.
“Your brother reopened it.”
Everyone turned.
“What?”
Darek handed Alina a folded piece of paper.
It had been delivered that morning.
In Leo’s handwriting.
COME ALONE.
MIDNIGHT.
OLD CHAPEL.
May you like
Alina looked at the clock.
11:42 P.M.
