Serpenti

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Serpenti Page 13

by Brooke Sivendra


  Emilia turned to face them. Her eyes softened as she looked at Asher and then she smiled when she saw Abi. Emilia wore her hair down, but the bandage on her neck was clearly visible—something Abi didn’t think was an oversight.

  Emilia’s eyes darted between Abi and Asher and she smiled. Asher kissed his mother’s cheek before shaking her parent’s hands. Abi’s father and Asher stepped aside, seeming to have a quiet word. Abi was focused on them until Emilia stole her attention.

  “It suits you. You wear it well, Abi,” Emilia said.

  “Thank you, and thank you for thinking of me today. I can’t imagine how hard today is going to be for you, and yet you still managed to think of this and gave the tiara to Asher,” Abi said, squeezing her hand.

  Emilia squeezed her hand in return and her eyes were wet. “Don’t make me cry. I’ve already ruined my makeup twice this morning, and if I have to ask my aid to do it again she’s going to resign,” Emilia said weakly.

  Abi pulled a tissue from her purse and handed it to Emilia to dab her eyes. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Are we ready?” a voice beside her asked. Abi looked up to see those black eyes that seemed even more unreal now he was standing in front of her. “Nice to finally meet you in person, Abi,” James Thomas said, extending his hand. “Let’s get everyone into the cars,” he continued, looking past Abi.

  Abi had so many questions for him, but security swept in, guiding them into two different vehicles.

  Abi slid in next to Asher and he took her hand, placing it in his lap. James Thomas took the front seat, and it took her a moment to realize Deacon Thomas was in the driver’s seat. She’d only seen him once during the first videoconference call they’d had, but she was sure it was him.

  The A-team had been brought in for today, and that helped settle her nerves.

  “Hello, Abi,” Deacon said.

  She assumed Asher had met them all this morning, or perhaps even last night. She had no idea when they’d arrived.

  “Hello, Deacon,” she said, letting him know she remembered him.

  The corner of his lips turned up but his attention returned to the road. As they approached the palace gate, Abi sucked in a breath and lowered her gaze. There must’ve been hundreds of reporters with huge cameras waiting for them. Asher ran his thumb over her knuckles and she was momentarily distracted. He was used to this as much as someone ever could be, but he was aware enough to realize she wasn’t.

  Once they were past the reporters and heading toward the church, Asher leaned in, close to her ear. “It’s going to be worse at the church. Focus on me and stay by my side. Don’t let go of my hand,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek.

  “Okay,” Abi said, steeling herself.

  “At the cathedral, Asher,” James said, turning to face them, “you and Abi will enter first, and your mother and the Bennetts will follow. Security is lining the walls of the cathedral, and Deacon and I will walk beside you and Abi. As we previously discussed, this is not a discreet strategy—we don’t want to be discreet. We want everyone watching you to know that you’ve tightened security, and we want them to know who your security team is. We want them to squash whatever plans they currently have of making you their next target,” James said, his eyes on Asher.

  “We have snipers on every rooftop surrounding the cathedral, and snipers inside. Today, your focus is on the service and your speech. Let us handle the rest,” James said, full of confidence.

  “Be the man on the balcony,” Asher said.

  Abi’s eyebrows wove together. What man on the balcony?

  But James Thomas must’ve understood, because he gave a knowing smile.

  “Exactly,” James said, and Asher drew a deep breath.

  The drive to the cathedral seemed to be taking forever, and it took Abi a few wrong turns to realize it was a security strategy. As was said, they weren’t going to take the most direct route—security was taking a scenic tour through Santina instead, keeping anyone with sinister plans guessing.

  But even if Abi hadn’t known the streets of Santina, she would’ve been able to guess when they were close to the cathedral because the streets were lined with people. She’d never seen so many Santinians gathered in one area.

  She took a calming breath. This was a new kind of pressure for her—a new challenge—and that’s how she needed to look at it. She would not be weak, not now. She had more fight in her than she’d ever thought and she would not shy away from anything—or anyone.

  Abi looked to Asher, and the only sign that he was stressed was his bouncing knee. His face was composed—like a mask of strength—but Abi knew it wasn’t a mask. Asher, too, had more fight in him than he knew.

  The car came to a stop at the front of the cathedral.

  “Don’t answer any questions. Don’t say a word. Just keep moving forward. We need to get you inside quickly,” James instructed.

  Abi looked in the rearview mirror to see a second car behind them.

  James turned to Asher. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” Asher said with a strong voice.

  A flutter of nerves erupted in her stomach as the Thomas brothers stepped out of the car.

  Asher exited next and was escorted around the car. He opened the door for Abi and she heard a flurry of noise as she stepped out: the unmistakable sound of camera shutters.

  Asher took her hand, steadying her.

  Abi heard what sounded like amplified hushed whispers—she supposed that happened when the crowd was all whispering the same thing.

  King Asher has a girlfriend.

  Security stepped in and once again they were surrounded by guards and swept forward into the cathedral.

  Abi’s breath hitched in her throat, but the level of coordination provided by Thomas Security was impressive, and they entered the cathedral without incident. They stood at the door as Emilia and her parents assembled behind them. Abi heard the organs playing inside, and it was only then that she felt a slight tremble in Asher’s hand.

  He was walking into his father’s funeral, and Abi could tell the reality of that had only now just hit him.

  Asher

  He had to actively fight the urge to run far away from it all, but this was his responsibility, and he had to face it. He dreaded the doors opening and seeing his father’s casket. He remembered the moment he’d seen Noah’s casket and he’d felt sick. Now he had to do it all over again.

  Except this time he had Abi by his side.

  Jesse appeared at his right—he’d been traveling in the car with Asher’s mother.

  “You can do this,” he said under his breath. “Focus on anything but the casket. Keep your gaze straight ahead.”

  Asher nodded. Whatever Thomas Security thought about Jesse, they were wrong. Asher didn’t doubt him—he’d always been there for them, and he’d always tried to bring out the best in Asher. If he wanted Santina to fall, he wouldn’t have stopped Asher from reaching for that bottle. It might seem a small thing, but Asher knew something had shifted inside him that night, and he had Jesse to thank for that.

  “Thank you,” Asher said.

  “Martin would be proud of you,” Jesse said quietly, and Asher almost crumbled.

  The doors opened and the crowd inside the church turned their heads for the first view of the royal family. Asher took a step forward, then another. His father’s casket was covered in flowers, but there was no mistaking it was a casket.

  The whispers started, as Asher knew they would, and he squeezed Abi’s hand. This was a lot for a first appearance, and Asher now wished for the things he’d once resented—a date captured by the paparazzi. He’d thought that was bad, but this was next level.

  But to her credit, despite everything he knew she must be feeling, she stood tall and confident beside him.

  James Thomas took a step forward and Asher followed. He couldn’t believe he was at a second funeral within as many months.

  His eyes swept over the guests as they walked down the
aisle toward the front of the cathedral. As they neared the altar, Asher saw the faces of dignitaries and diplomats his father had befriended. He nodded to a few as he passed by. When Asher saw the Adani king and crown prince, he fought to remain calm. He would not show them how much their presence affected him. But even if he hadn’t been able to control his emotions, he realized it wouldn’t have mattered—they weren’t looking at Asher. Their eyes were on the Thomas brothers, and Asher knew they didn’t like what they saw.

  Asher held back a smile now. If his father could see them, he’d have enjoyed this.

  Eventually the Adani royals did look to Asher.

  Asher held their gaze. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away.

  I’m going to ruin you, Asher thought, surprising himself with his newfound confidence.

  The last place he’d expected a moment of clarity was at his arrival at his father’s funeral, but perhaps his father was here, guiding him, because suddenly Asher knew how to retaliate. He wouldn’t go to war—because he wasn’t going to start a fight he couldn’t finish. Instead, he would strip them of everything they loved and needed, just like they’d tried to do to him, and he’d show the world who they really were.

  Asher returned his attention to the front. The sight of his father’s casket only strengthened his resolve.

  They were seated in the front row and Asher wished he could see where the Adani royals were looking now.

  “You’re filming everyone in here, right?” he asked in a hushed whisper.

  “Of course,” James said casually.

  The priest entered and they stood.

  The funeral followed traditional protocol, and Asher stared straight ahead. His gaze dropped to the casket and he drew in a shaky breath. Abi squeezed his hand and gave the slightest of nods. He pictured his father’s slain body inside the casket and struggled to keep his emotions in check.

  He knew he wouldn’t be able to give the speech he needed to give in that state of mind, so he focused on something else: revenge.

  “King Asher will now give King Martin’s obituary,” the priest said.

  Asher stood and walked toward the podium. His notes were in the pocket of his jacket, but like he’d done with the speech on the balcony, he decided in this moment not to give his prepared speech. Not today.

  Today, he would give a very different speech.

  Asher’s hands trembled and he drew a steadying breath. He looked at his mother—at the bandage on her neck—and at Abi, who was sitting slightly forward, because she couldn’t lean against her chair, and then at the Adani royals. Their eyes connected for a moment and Asher knew that was all he needed.

  “I thank every guest, every friend, and every Santinian for coming today to bid farewell to the greatest man I have ever known,” Asher said, looking over the guests. “You knew him as King Martin; I was honored to know him as my father and mentor. In preparing today’s obituary, I asked myself what my father would want me to say. I think he would want me to speak not of him—because despite his title he didn’t enjoy the spotlight—but of his legacy.”

  Asher was flying by the seat of his pants now and he took encouragement from the nodding heads in the crowd.

  “My father, King Martin, was a man of honor. He made hard decisions over easy ones, and he taught me that nothing is more important than family. He considered Santina—all twenty-five million of us—his big family. He loved Santina and, more than anything, he wanted to see Santina flourish. That moment was stolen from him the day he was assassinated by those who pretend to be our friends,” Asher said harshly, and a stillness settled over the cathedral. It was like no one dared to breathe.

  Asher’s eyes dropped to James Thomas, whose eyes shone with approval.

  Asher continued. “But perhaps what those friends never knew about my father was that he was a brilliant chess player. He played anonymously online in international competitions, and until his death he was undefeated by all, except one person.”

  Asher looked to the Adani royals.

  “That person is me,” he said, and had the satisfaction of seeing their eyes widen.

  Asher returned his attention to the crowd and looked into the cameras. “King Martin has departed for the heavens, but he is not gone. I will carry on his legacy and see his dreams fulfilled. When you think of King Martin, I ask you to think not of his tragic death. Remember him for the wonderful man that he was—a father of Santina.”

  Asher returned to his prepared speech now that he’d made his point, and when Asher spoke, he looked into the camera, speaking directly to the Santinians lining the streets outside, because this service was ultimately for them. He read from his notes and told everyone of the man he had known.

  “This is the King’s final farewell. He loved you, Santina, and you will forever be with him,” Asher said. He placed one hand on the casket and closed his eyes for the briefest of moments.

  Goodbye, Father. I won’t let you down.

  When Asher returned to his chair, James whispered, “Nice speech.”

  “Did I take it too far?” Asher asked.

  “No. It was perfect,” James said, his words full of praise.

  Asher sat restlessly through the rest of the service. He kept it together as a few of his father’s allies spoke, but when his mother went to the altar to blow out the candle on his father’s casket, Asher felt his composure crack. He could avenge his father, but it would never bring him back. His mother placed her hands on the casket and Asher could see she was fighting to keep it together. She looked up at Asher, and he gave her an encouraging nod, but he wasn’t sure his expression was one of strength. She wiped her wet cheeks and returned to her chair.

  The priest concluded the ceremony and they stood, following security to the rear of the cathedral. As guests began to file out, Asher shook their hands, accepted their condolences, and thanked them for coming. Asher had no idea how long it took for the cathedral to empty, but it felt like hours. Finally, the Adani royals approached Asher.

  “Thank you for coming to pay your respects,” Asher said, his voice neutral.

  The Adani king extended his hand. “We are sorry for your loss, King Asher. We need to talk—I’ll be in touch.”

  “You know where to reach me,” Asher said, not reacting to him. He would never give that man that kind of power—he didn’t deserve it.

  The king seemed unsure of Asher’s response, but he nodded and walked away.

  Asher extended his hand to the Adani crown prince, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. He repeated the same empty words and they left without incident.

  Emma Bennett accompanied his mother out, but William paused beside Asher. He smiled gracefully. “My wife was right about you—you were born to be king.”

  Abi

  Abi stole a look at Asher, Santina’s king.

  They’d all thought he’d simply go to war, but that speech had left them guessing. Asher was going to do something special, and even she didn’t know what that something was.

  She realized she was staring, and when he caught her, his eyes softened. He reached out for her hand and she had never been more proud to stand beside him. He held her hand tight as security blanketed them. Abi didn’t know if she was imagining it or if security had truly tightened after Asher’s speech, but she felt safe behind the human fortress.

  While Asher was keeping people guessing, the security team wasn’t. Abi saw the glances being cast in the direction of the Thomas brothers, and whether the guests knew who was handling security or not, the security team had made it clear: they were not to be messed with. James Thomas seemed to have a natural ability to appear confident and threatening all at once.

  Abi wondered more than once if Lamberi was somehow watching. Did he have a network of spies inside Santina?

  She hoped security had appeared confident and threatening enough to discourage him, but she knew that was unlikely. In fact, it might even encourage Lamberi. Men like him enjoyed a challenge.


  Abi couldn’t see past the human wall of security but she felt the Santinian heat the moment they stepped out of the cathedral. It lasted only a moment before they were escorted into cars and they made their way to the private burial grounds.

  Asher rested his head against the seat and sighed as the car drove away. He was still holding her hand, and he threaded their fingers together then turned to look at her.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, surprising her.

  “Me? I’m fine. How are you feeling?” Abi asked. She hadn’t done anything but stand there beside him.

  “I’m glad that’s done,” he said, sounding far away. “I hope my father is cheering me on and not rolling in his casket.”

  Abi gave a small smile. “Your father never went to war, but that would’ve been the easy option. You said it yourself: he was a strong king because he made the hard decisions. You will be the same—you’ve proven that today. And you left Santina in awe.”

  “Awe?” Asher asked, raising his eyebrows. “Did you talk to them as we left the cathedral?” he joked.

  “I didn’t need to,” Abi said confidently. “The cathedral was silent; you could’ve heard a pin drop. No one expected that speech, and it was everything it needed to be. Threatening without being a direct threat. It was powerful.”

  Asher rubbed his temples. “We’ll see if you’re right over the next few days. But as I was standing there, I knew I couldn’t play it safe, and I also know I can’t go to war. Yes, we have a military, but we don’t have the money we need to go to war, and unrest will only cost us more. I need to be strategic about this and plan my revenge via other means. I won’t start a fight I can’t win.”

  “So play the game you can,” Abi said, knowing Asher would do exactly that. The best move King Martin might’ve ever made was to make Asher the crown prince. Abi wondered again if he had any inkling, even a gut feeling, that his life had been in immediate danger before his death.

  “I don’t specialize in politics,” James said, “but I second that—play the game you can win. Strategy is what wins every war; not ammunition, not manpower. With a good strategy, a small team can defeat even the most powerful. Santina might be the smallest kingdom, and the poorest, but that doesn’t mean you can’t win. I’m telling you now, the Adani royals are not strategists, because killing your father was the stupidest move they could’ve made.”

 

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