CHAPTER TWELVE
Sebastianos
As second in line to the throne of Cassia, I had people to manage everything in my life, from my calendar to my wardrobe. I had three drivers on staff who would drive me to the ends of the earth should I require it.
Why, then, with all the responsibilities and trappings of a man so high in the palace food chain did I find myself nearly obsessing about the whereabouts of one tiny intern?
Because I didn’t have enough to keep me busy… at least that was what I told myself. Being a full time royal was too boring for my tastes.
To distract myself, I was becoming more and more involved with palace security. One, it aligned with my training, and two, the head of palace security was struck by a sudden bout of pancreatitis, and the staff needed a leader. And three… I needed to do more than smile and wave.
So, when I set about ensuring the security of an upcoming event, I was surprised how much resistance I received. No, not so much resistance as pure laziness. Or maybe apathy?
I wasn’t sure, but when I asked for the full floor plan of the library in which Penelope was scheduled to cut a ribbon for the newly remodeled children’s department, the staff seemed surprised that I’d need such a thing.
“They’ve never needed the plans before, Your Grace,” the director of the library told me on the phone, “but I can see if the maintenance department can find the most recent drawings.”
“Please do so,” I told the man, irritated to the marrow. “Otherwise, you’ll be conducting the ribbon cutting with some ridiculously dull member of parliament.”
I found the entire conversation disconcerting. Why wouldn’t we have asked for floor plans in the past? The ailing director of security and I would need to have a conversation regarding these types of lapses upon his return, especially now that rumblings of national unease continued to vibrate around the country.
“I hate to alert you to these security concerns,” I told my uncle when he’d stopped by my office for yet another surprise visit. “But with the possible Amurian unrest, I prefer that we take every precaution.”
Most times, my uncle would encourage me to relax a little. But despite his encouragement to the rest of the country that the threats of violence from Amur were baseless, he was much more conservative when we spoke in private.
“I’ll have my chief secretary make the follow-up calls to ensure the plans are received,” he said as he poured himself a brandy from my wet bar. “You have much better use of your time, and Neoma is terrifying when she wants to be and has no problem throwing the crown’s weight around when necessary.”
I chuckled, putting a face to the name. Neoma had to be nearly three hundred years old now because I remembered being young and running scared in the hallways from her whenever she caught Nate and me up to no good in the family wing of the castle.
And she’d seemed ancient back then.
“I appreciate it, sire,” I said, barely stopping myself from smiling as my uncle made a face, hating it when I was formal behind closed doors. I wasn’t just being a smartass today, I was also working on being vigilant with the formality expected of me. It wouldn’t do for me to be caught calling our monarch “Uncle Dem” in public.
I could hear it now… the Duke of Disrespect.
Just when I thought I’d escaped any pokes at my personal life, my uncle lifted a brow. “Any plans for the Legacy Ball?” The grin on his face let me know he was up to no good. “Happen to find a phone number taped to your computer monitor?”
I had, in fact, found the phone number of one Geneva Rialta taped to my computer. I’d promptly thrown it into the trash.
“No blind dates… Your Highness.”
Maybe I was the Duke of Disrespect.
The king looked like he wanted to argue the point a little more, but someone knocked, and I practically lunged toward the door to open it. It was a page with the king’s afternoon schedule.
“Oh, joy,” he said rather joylessly as he read over what looked like endless meetings and phone calls.
I bowed as he left, unable to stop myself. King Demetrius was a modern monarch and didn’t actually like many of the archaic etiquette rules attached to how people approached and left his presence, but I was feeling a bit guilty for digging in my heels so tightly against being set up. But dammit. I didn’t want an arranged date or an arranged marriage. Hell, I bristled against my arranged job.
I shuddered thinking how close I’d gotten to being suckered into one of those back in my early twenties. Luckily, I had gotten the marriage unarranged before any media heard of it, or I’d really been called The Runaway Duke. No way was I going to let that happen.
Uncle Demetrius sighed as he headed toward the door and his afternoon of meetings, and guilt hit me even harder. Not for the first time I wondered how lonely the view must be from the top. How he sat in a position that a majority of people around him would love to be in, and he was alone. On top of that, he was raising a daughter by himself and was constantly surrounded by people who treated him like he was some strange zoo exhibit instead of a flesh and blood man beneath the role he played.
It was something that I never strived for personally. Not even before Penelope was born or after my father passed. Not once did I want the burden that Uncle Dem carried.
Exhaling away the heavy thoughts that were weighing me down, I decided to leave my office, perhaps take a stroll around the grounds as I considered the ways in which I wanted to tighten palace security while I was unofficially in charge.
Thinking I’d grab Nate as a sounding board, I did a double take as I went past one of the tall windows looking out onto the king’s rose garden.
Lying on the ground flat on her belly with a smartphone stretched in front of her was Iliana Costas. At first, I thought she’d fallen, but when I peered closer, I could see she was smiling. No, beaming.
But at what?
Don’t go down to her. Don’t go down to her.
I repeated the mantra to myself… as I headed straight outside. I had no willpower when it came to this woman, obviously.
When she didn’t hear me approach, I grew even quieter as I strode up behind her. Dressed in khaki capris and a sunny yellow blouse, I noticed her messenger bag and jacket tossed on a nearby bench.
Crouching down behind her, I got as close as I could before saying, “What on earth are you doing, Miss Costas?”
My voice wasn’t loud, but by the way she jumped, you’d have thought I let an air horn rip instead of a whisper.
“Oh my god!” She rolled onto her back, hand on her heart, gasping in large lungfuls of air. “Shit!” Apparently, she hadn’t meant to curse because she clapped a hand over her mouth. “You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry about that,” I said, reaching down a hand to help her up. After a moment’s hesitation, she took it, and then made a cute little squealing noise when I yanked her in one swift movement to her feet. “I was just passing by and couldn’t help but notice you bellying up to one of the king’s prized rose bushes. I had to see what you were doing.”
Wiping the dirt and debris from the phone’s surface, she opened the locked browser and turned the phone toward me. On the screen was a slow-motion capture of four bees flitting between a small growth of roses. It was a remarkable video, so detailed and fine-tuned and even more so for the fact that she’d captured it with a phone.
“I have a new assignment from the king himself,” she said, looking down at the screen. “He thought it would be nice to see the palace and all of Cassia through the eyes of a newcomer, so I’ve been asked to take photos of things I find interesting for the social media accounts.”
“And so naturally you came out here to video bees,” I said, nodding my head and trying to keep my smile in check. It wasn’t working.
It made her grin, though, so it was working.
“I’m trying to find something different for viewers to look at,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Anyone can pick up a brochure and look at the old furniture or the thrones. But I’m just trying to offer something new — something alive.”
It was a brilliant thought. As part of my private school education, I’d spent countless hours wandering through the palace listening to a guide go on and on about eighteenth-century décor and priceless portraits hung in gilded frames — most of which, especially the furniture and the artwork, never changed. It was the same settees and powdered-wig portraits that I’d seen as a boy that were still featured in all the palace tours.
“I like it,” was all I could manage to say as her gaze caught mine and everything around us disappeared. Her eyes were more luminous in the bright light of day, and when I looked closer, I could see specks of blue closer to the pupil. Absolutely gorgeous.
I was being pulled into her orbit again, and it was like gravity had shifted direction and was pushing me toward her. But, dammit, I couldn’t.
“I should let you get back to work, I suppose.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, the light in her eyes dimmed a little, then she looked down at her phone again. “Yes, that would be for the best.”
But we both just stood there.
And stood there.
Someone cleared their throat, and Iliana jumped back.
I turned to find Nate standing in the doorway. He was giving me a solid I need to talk to you stare. Then he smiled at Iliana. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak with Seb.”
She took another step back. “Of course. Nice to see you both again.”
Then she fled, picking up her bag and jacket and heading toward the gate. I watched her go then turned my death glare on my friend. “Seriously? We can’t even talk if we bump into each other?”
His expression was grim. “It’s not that. I need to give you a head’s up about something… in the privacy of your office.”
“Then let’s go.”
We remained silent as we strode down the hallway. In my office, I went straight to the wet bar fridge and pulled out two beers, handing one to him.
“What is it?”
Nate let out a long sigh and finally sat down, taking a long drink.
“I really don’t know how to tell you this, Seb.” His voice was quiet, which made me even more nervous. “But Reina Frangos is back. She was hired for a job in the communications office. She starts tomorrow.”
Well, damn.
Was he serious?
The woman my father and uncle had once decided would be my bride was now working in the palace?
Running a hand down my face, I cursed. “Please tell me she’s now happily married with three kids and another on the way.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to lie to you. But rumor has it that her father is now insisting you honor the previous contract.”
I stared at him. “There was no previous contract. I knocked that shit down before ink ever met paper.”
He stared right back. “Well, her father was just promoted to prime minister of Amur.”
The hair raised on the back of my neck.
“You’re kidding.”