stood and they briefly spoke before the Princess shook Sam’s hand, and Sam was escorted out.
“Sir Derek Carson. For services and bravery. For services to the royal family.”
Derek Carson—getting an honor for bravery. He would have never dreamed it.
On trembling legs, Derek approached the Princess. The suited assistant with the purple cushion offered the Princess a thermal-imaging mask, and she reached out a hand, and with the same dignity as if she were placing a crown on her head, she put the mask over her eyes. Derek knew the moment she spotted him, because she smiled slightly.
Derek hadn’t been advised that she was going to do that, but he was glad she did. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing to lose an ear because a Princess couldn’t see you and took it off with her ceremonial sword? But he was safe as Princess Coralie briefly touched the sword to his shoulders as she spoke some sort of official words. The blood rushing in his ears meant he didn’t hear it at all.
Then he was standing, and Princess Coralie reached for his medal. It slipped over his head and hung suspended on nothing for a moment, before shimmering and melting out of sight with the rest of his clothes. Before he could say anything, she turned and reached for the cushion again, and with a thumping heart, Derek saw the Royal emblem of a starburst set in a golden square.
His Royal status.
It went over his head and he stared with amazement at the Princess.
“Rise,” she commanded, and he got to his feet. Before he could open his mouth, the Princess smiled again. “Sir Derek, I understand you’re a Tolkien fan.”
Of course he was a bloody Tolkien fan. Tolkien had created his own language in his books, using a mixture of ancient languages and created ones. And didn’t the One Ring turn the wearer invisible? Of course Derek had obsessed about Tolkien since he’d first discovered his writings. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he managed to stutter.
“Wonderful. I therefore declare your moniker as ShadowFacts. Shadow, to signify your power, and Facts to signify your dedication to the history of our family.”
Derek felt as if he were going to pass out. ShadowFacts. He was a real Royal. There was a burst of applause behind him, and he glanced down at the medal on his chest. He was visible. And he had a name.
“Thank you for your services to our family. Sylvie told me that the shadow of your unknown family history has always been a burden to you. Feel the burden no longer, Sir Derek. I claim you as my family through this honor.”
Twenty minutes later, after his mother had hugged him for the fortieth time, Derek blinked and tried to recall how he had left. Had he been visible? Had he walked out on his own? Had he had to be carried? From the smiles and congratulations he was receiving, he didn’t think he had embarrassed himself.
Sam stood tall at his side, basking in the moment. Derek had told him he was a hero, but the medal around his neck was firm proof of it.
“I’m so proud of you,” Sam said for what had to be the third time. “ShadowFacts. I like it.”
“It’s very dignified,” Sylvie agreed. “Something to be proud of indeed.”
“I always hoped the Duke of Roses would give me my moniker,” Derek confessed, fingering the starburst on the medal. “But, do you know what? I think this is better. Getting a moniker for services and bravery off your own bat, not because you’re related to him, is sort of more worthwhile.”
Sylvie clutched his arm. “The offer is still on the table. I can ask the Roses line of Royals if they will agree to a DNA test with you to settle the matter once and for all.”
Derek shook his head. “No. I don’t need to know any more. Princess Coralie has said I’m a part of her family, and that’s good enough for me. Even if we found out for sure, I don’t think it would change how I feel.”
“What if you’re the great-grandson of the King of North Abarra?” Sam breathed in wonder. “I think that would be cool.”
Frederick slapped him on the back. “And don’t forget Derek also comes from a long line of Carsons. We were smugglers back in the day. They hung quite a few of us. Should’ve knighted us for services to the crown back then, when we were bringing wine and beer into Abarra without paying taxes.”
They