Or lack thereof.
Rhys
I had to admit, sneaking into and out of countries was fun. Gally had told me all about his trip to Jervan to visit Theo, and he'd described it as long, exhausting, and irritating. But our small plane took off from the northern coast of Rave, and we landed in a small airbase not too far from the capital without much of a fuss.
"How'd you arrange all this?" I asked Kader.
"I have my ways."
"No," I stopped him, "seriously. How the hell do you manage to get in and out of countries like it's no big deal?"
"I make friends. I do things for people. I call in favors. Your mother's money." He shrugged. "The usual methods. This, in particular, was thanks to Galian's attending physician, Hebendon. He called in a favor to the health minister—luckily for us, she's uninterested in war and was happy to facilitate this journey. The plane was thanks to my cousin, Jon—"
"Wait, you have a Raven cousin?" I asked.
"My grandmother was Raven, yes," he said. "Her younger brother's son is a colonel at that base."
"And he was willing to betray Rave to help you?"
"I began working with him after I switched to your mother's employ." He spoke gruffly, and I decided not to ask how he managed to get in and out of the country when he'd worked for my father.
"So we've got confirmation that Bouckley wants to speak with me, right?" I said, playing with the crease in my pants. "I mean, we aren't going to the palace just to be kept prisoner, are we?"
"It's possible. But I doubt it. Bouckley may talk tough, but I doubt she truly wants to send her country to war. They're technologically advanced, but Kylae's been in the war-fighting business for half a century. I wouldn't want to go up against us."
I'd been to Baro once before, but compared to Veres, it was mesmerizing. Tall buildings climbed to the sky without the use of barethium. How Herin managed it, Kylaens still had no idea. The Herinese were renowned for their secrecy. And I doubted they'd be sharing it any time soon.
Kader drove the car to the front of the Herinese ministry, and my heart raced as the soldier conferred with him. I heard them discussing my presence, and smiled at the guard who glanced behind Kader at me. Then, the guard walked back into his station, but the gates remained closed.
"What's happening?" I asked.
"Be patient," Kader replied.
The minutes stretched into eternity, but finally, the guard reappeared and waved us on. My sigh of relief must've been audible, because Kader laughed and asked why I didn't trust him.
"I trust you. I don't trust them," I said.
"Didn't you tell Cannon that the first step to any relationship is trust?"
He caught my eye in the rearview mirror and I glared at him.
A tall, thin man stood on the staircase as we pulled up. I straightened my shoulders and walked up to him, trying to project a kingly aura.
"Welcome to Herin, Prince Rhys," he said with a smile. There was no bow, but I hadn't expected one. "Prime Minister Bouckley is eagerly awaiting your meeting. But she has been detained by more pressing matters, so she's asked me to show you to her office."
I nodded; typical power play. My father used to do it all the time. "I look forward to our meeting then."
The ministry was sterile and cold. Metal and glass sculptures were few and far between, and there were no paintings on the wall. The floor was a stark white, almost like snow, and even in the middle of the day, I spotted staff hard at work keeping the place clean. Having been to two different presidential mansions in the past few hours, I was a little homesick for the gold and paintings of Kernaghan castle.
"Please wait in here," the aide said, holding the door open to a small sitting room. I took two steps in and my jaw fell to the floor.
"Olivia?"
"Rhys?"
I stared at Olivia for a good minute, shocked that she was there. How had she managed to work her way into Herin without any help? A Herinese man sat next to her, and he looked most interested in the two of us.
"What are you doing here?" I blurted.
"What are you doing here?" she replied, standing and crossing the room. After speaking to her on the phone for so long, she looked a lot prettier than I remembered. Or maybe it was because she was smiling. "How did you get here? I thought Herin wasn't even talking to Kylae?"
"Gally's old attending physician was Herinese, and he worked his channels to secure a meeting for me. How did you get here?"
Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled. "I used my vast network of university friends to find Andreu here. He's been gracious enough to help me gain an audience to deliver your...well, your letter."
I glanced down at the letter in her hands, my wax seal still intact. "Olivia, this is...way more than I ever expected you to do."
"I suppose the letter is worthless now, hm?" she said, turning it over in her hands.
"I wouldn't mind looking at it to remind myself what I need to say," I said. "And I wouldn't say no to having you in there with me."
A blush arose on her face. "Me? Why?"
"I need all the help I can get."
"Oh, this is delicious!" The Herinese man cackled. "Please, continue. This is better than my romance novel."
Olivia glanced over her shoulder at him. "Andreu, thank you for all your help, but I believe I've got it from here."
"Fine," he sighed, standing. "Spoil my fun. But I do want to talk about that job, my dear."
He pecked Olivia on the cheek and winked at me before walking out the door.
"Job?" I asked her.
"In exchange for his help, I told him I'd get him a job in Jervan with Collins Shipbuilding." She rolled her eyes. "Something decidedly non-important."
I laughed until I caught a whiff of her perfume and realized how close we stood. Apparently, so did the man who came to fetch us, because he cleared his throat loudly.
"The prime minister will see you now."
Olivia
I was thrilled to see Rhys. Partly because it would mean so much more from a diplomatic standpoint for the two world leaders to speak directly to one another, but also...well, I found myself watching the way he walked and chatted with the aide who'd retrieved us. He had an easy smile—similar to his brother's, but much less full of himself.
All thoughts of Rhys ceased when we entered the presidential office. Prime Minister Bouckley was a severe woman with high cheekbones, thin lips, and dark eyes that seemed permanently skeptical of everything she surveyed. She barely even smiled as she greeted Rhys, who, to his credit, stood before her without displaying any sign of fear. She was at least a head taller than he was, so he had to crane his neck to speak to her.
"I'm so very glad you've agreed to meet with me," he said, following her to the seating area. "Please, let me introduce my..."
"Olivia Collins," I said, stepping forward to greet her with a deferential nod. "Vice president, Collins Shipbuilding."
"I was under the impression that Collins Shipbuilding was on the outs with the family Helmuth," Bouckley said, taking a seat at her circular table.
"Things are changing in Kylae," Rhys said, before I could respond. "I'm here to formally apologize."
"And from one leader to another, you never lead with an apology," Bouckley said with a cunning smile. "It shows eagerness."
I could've told Rhys that, but I wasn't about to correct him in front of Bouckley, who'd already started the meeting with an adversarial tone. It was clear she didn't think Rhys would be a very strong king. And I just hoped he would prove her wrong.
"As it is, I am eager," Rhys said, oblivious to my concerns. "Because, unlike my father, I don't want to base my entire economy on dropping bombs on another country. I'm sure you're aware that my country is in turmoil, our colony is imploding, and our king isn't even four days dead."
"And you're here to ask for my help?"
"I'm here to ask for a fresh start," Rhys said, sitting up taller in his seat. "I am not my father."
&nb
sp; "That much is obvious."
I couldn't hide the wince that crossed my face, and Bouckley's sharp gaze turned in my direction for a brief moment before returning to Rhys.
"So you're going to play it that way, huh?" Rhys said, sitting back in the chair. I expected him to say something else, to get angry and yell at her for being immovable, but he remained still, watching her with a surprising amount of patience.
Bouckley blinked first. "And what of Herin's grievances against your colony? We lost a lot of money when that airship went down."
"My sincere apologies for saving the lives of my countrymen," Rhys replied dryly. "I could also talk about how much money we lost when that bomb detonated and destroyed an entire city—one which was integral to weaning ourselves off of bombs and into shipbuilding." He paused and a smile blossomed on his face. "Both our countries have grievances against each other, but that's no reason not to start from a place of peace and move forward together."
"I've heard that a few times. That Raven girl can turn a phrase. Almost looked...forced."
Rhys' hand slipped to the table with a thud. "I can assure you, my brother is lying half-dead in a Kylaen hospital. And what Theo said...she said from the heart."
"I'm familiar with Major Kallistrate's speeches."
"Then you'll know that they do wonders to help get people like you reelected," Rhys said. This turn of conversation surprised me. Where was he going with it? "Here's what I propose: you and I agree, today, to cease any and all war preparations. You will also announce that you are leading an effort to help transition the country of Rave from a colony to a free, independent nation. Herin has been a democracy for quite some time, so I'm sure you can take great pride in showing the Ravens how it's done."
Bouckley's eyebrow quirked, but she said nothing.
"Kylae will issue a formal, public apology to Jervan and Herin, and will offer three million crowns to Herin to pay back the money that was lost when the airship went down."
"Twenty," Bouckley replied.
"Ten, final," Rhys snapped. "And I'll throw in a photo-op with my sister-in-law when you're up for reelection next year. Remind everyone just how essential you were to stopping a fifty-year war."
I had to say, I was quite impressed with Rhys. He was a lot more politically savvy than I'd given him credit for.
Bouckley's eyes narrowed then a smile curled onto her face. "Fine, Prince Rhys. We accept your general terms. Kylae will pay back the money—in a manner to be determined. You, there." Her hawk-like eyes shifted to me. "You own the shipbuilding company, do you not?"
"Yes, but—"
"If you will allow your company to set up operations in Herin, we will cut the price to nine million," she offered.
I licked my lips, both giddy at the prospect of expanding operations to a third country, and dreading the legwork that would go into it.
I felt Rhys' gaze on me, almost sensed him pleading for me not to correct her. Feeling generous, I nodded. "We'll have to look at our infrastructure, but I'm sure we can begin our initial discovery." After all, I added silently, we'd just completed a migration to Jervan, what would starting in another country hurt? Especially when I added, "We just need a few months to finish rebuilding our headquarters in Duran."
This time, I snuck a look at Rhys, who'd twisted the corner of his lip up in a half-smile. "Yes, please remind me to talk to you about upping your aid."
"We'd prefer it if your headquarters were in Baro," Bouckley said. "We have better infrastructure, more skilled workers. I'm sure we could persuade you."
"Kylae is home," I said with a smile and didn't miss the grin that appeared on Rhys' face. "But in the spirit of cooperation, we'd be glad to extend our friendship to other countries."
Bouckley tapped her fingers against the glass table. "Very well. I'm sure this will be the first of many meetings we'll have, Your Highness."
"I'd like to continue this discussion at my coronation in..." Rhys trailed off, his eyes widening.
"Tomorrow," I whispered.
"Tomorrow," he finished loudly then looked at me. "Tomorrow?"
"Time passes quickly when you're in charge," Bouckley said, standing. "I accept your invitation, though I won't be able to attend myself. But I offer my congratulations on your impending kingship."
Rhys stood to shake her hand when Bouckley's aide appeared in the doorway, crossing the room briskly and whispering into the prime minister's ear.
She nodded and looked at Rhys. "We've just received a message from your office, Prince."
My heart constricted, fearing the worst possible scenarios. Could Kylae have been overthrown in a coup while Rhys was gone? Was it Rave? Just as we'd finally gotten a bit of good news, had everything gone up in smoke?
"Your brother is awake."
SEVEN
Rhys
Kader, Olivia, and I hurried back to Kylae, with Prime Minister Bouckley promising she would send her ambassador to attend my coronation as an act of goodwill and offering me her personal military jet to expedite the trip. I barely slept on the flight, feeling the weight of the crown waiting for me when I got back to Kylae, and also because a certain blonde had fallen asleep next to me, her head resting gently on my shoulder.
Perhaps this was what it might be like to have someone by my side. Olivia had been there and more this past week, and it made me a little sad our collaboration was coming to an end. She'd return to Collins shipbuilding and I'd return to the castle to deal with the mess waiting for me. She probably wouldn't entertain my late night calls now that the threat of chaos was mostly lifted. I was sure my mother would be available now, but...some part of me wanted to talk to Olivia more.
When we reached Kylae, Olivia declined to accompany me to the hospital, citing a need to talk with her assistant and start the process of opening a third branch of her company in Herin. And when I pressed her further, she said she didn't want to intrude on "private family time." And as she was neither my wife nor girlfriend, I had to concede that point.
The hospital was much busier than the last time I'd been there, but the atmosphere seemed lighter. The good news of Galian's survival was like a sunrise after a dark, stormy night—as was, apparently, my impending coronation.
For me, the day brightened when I walked into the room.
"Oh, great. 'Bout time you came to see me." His smile was weak, the spark in his eye muted, but Gally's face lit up when he saw me.
"Yeah, well, leave it to you to fuck up your own wedding," I replied.
We stared at each other for a moment then burst into laughter—Gally's cut short as he winced and grabbed his shoulder. "Don't do that. I'm still recovering. Maitland says I won't miss this lung, but the incision still hurts."
"Yeah, it will for a while, I'd imagine. I'll save the brotherly ass-kicking for when you're completely recovered."
"You're on, asshole. And don't think because you're king now, you get to use your bodyguards."
"Not yet," I said with a shake of my head then, in horror, glanced at the clock. "Two hours."
"And you put your coronation aside to come see me?" He tutted. "I'm flattered, Rhys."
"I'll have you know while you've been lying here half-dead, I've been gallivanting around three countries preventing war. With your ex, I might add."
"Ex...?"
"Olivia."
"We were never really together." He eyed me. "You like her?"
"She's been incredibly helpful," I said, glancing at the door.
"Uh-huh. Helpful."
"You've been in a coma. I think your brain is fried," I said, reaching over to him to mess up his hair.
"Ow," he said, grabbing his shoulder again. "Take it easy, I lost a lung."
"A third of a lung."
"Still hurts," he said, patting the spot. "So you've saved the world?"
"Trying to. I think Herin is placated, and Liv tells me Jervan won't attack if Herin won't."
"Liv, huh?" Gally smiled.
"Stop it. I've
got enough to worry about right now." I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm being coronated in about two hours and I still have no idea what I'm doing."
"From what I've been reading, you're been doing a decent job," Gally said, glancing at the paper to his left.
I picked it up, having been cut off from the cycle for a few days. To my surprise, it was about my trip to Rave, and how Cannon and I were working closely together to resolve issues there. And a couple of fabricated story about how I'd helped a refugee family find a home. There were also stories about Theo, and how strong and resilient she was during this difficult time.
Galian shook his head. "Isn't that nice? Last week they were throwing pig's blood on my wife, this week they're worried about her health. Public opinion is so fickle."
"That Mondra woman knows her stuff," I said. "Remind me to give her a raise."
"Right after you tell her to quit putting my wife front and center." He shuddered. "I don't remember any of it, and based on the photo on page two, I don't ever want to."
I flipped the page. Sure enough, it was Theo and Anson. I quickly closed the paper.
"Fine, I'll tell her to slow the media machine. Besides, they'll want to know more about you surviving—"
"Do me a favor and get married already," Gally said with a derisive snort at the paper. "Then they'll quit focusing on me and Theo and we can disappear to our island and live in peace away from all you crazy people."
"If you think you're off the hook simply because you got shot, you have another thing coming," I said, only half-joking. "Besides, I doubt your lovely wife would be willing to stay away too long. Where is she, anyway?"
Galian glanced at the door. "I told Mom to take her to get something to eat. She hasn't let me breathe since I woke up. I mean...I can't even take a shit in private—"
"You didn't seem to mind on the island," she said, standing in the doorway. Theo was back to her normal, imposing self, and Galian was, as usual, the object of her annoyance.
The Complete Madion War Trilogy Page 74