by C. J. Miller
Serena could just as easily talk herself out of attending. Public, well-attended events were rife with possibilities for failure. She despised small talk, she didn’t want to address issues surrounding her father’s and sister’s deaths, and she didn’t have a firm enough grasp on the most pressing political issues to discuss them in detail.
Deciding she could handle this undertaking with a little guidance, she dialed her minister of foreign affairs to consult with him on the matter. If she needed to follow certain protocols, she wanted to know in advance.
Mitchell Wagner entered her office carrying a thick folder of papers. He was thirty years older than she was, a contemporary of her father’s. He treated her with what Serena interpreted as disdain, or maybe he was uptight and surly by nature. Serena let most of his bad attitude slide because he was good at his job and she didn’t know anyone with nearly as much experience to replace him.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” she said.
“The pleasure is mine, Princess.”
Now that they were meeting, more questions came to mind, those beyond the social and political implications of her attending a wedding in Elion. What did Wagner know about DeSante? Serena gestured for Wagner to sit. “I’ve had a run-in with President DeSante. There are rumors he wants to annex Acacia to have better access to attack Rizari. What can you tell me about him?”
Wagner appeared bored by the question and that annoyed her. “The president of Icarus won’t back down until he accomplishes what he wants. He desires control of shipping lanes in this part of the Mediterranean.”
“What is preventing him from attacking us?” The more powerful navy in Icarus could easily dominate the Acacian Navy. DeSante had flexed that muscle several times, perhaps to prove it.
“You’re an unknown. No one knows what to expect from you. Perhaps he believes he can manipulate you or he’s waiting to see how strong your bond with Rizari will become. DeSante is a vicious tyrant, but he isn’t a stupid man.”
Serena watched every dart of his eyes, twitch of his mouth and breath for a sign he was holding back. “What would you advise me to do?”
“I would suggest you keep DeSante at a distance, but close enough that we’ll know if an attack is coming,” Wagner said.
Serena considered that. She could make an effort to speak with DeSante more often, to keep her finger on the pulse of political movements. “I can do that.”
Wagner wouldn’t want his time wasted. She moved the conversation along. “Tell me what I need to know about attending the Duke of Elion’s wedding.”
Wagner raised his eyebrows. “This is something you are considering?”
The doubt in his eyes made her question the choice. Did everyone believe her to be socially incompetent or was he concerned about her safety? Serena held her ground. “Yes.”
Wagner settled in his chair. “I can provide the profiles of those in attendance and point out any political minefields that you’d need to avoid.” He paused and rubbed his chin. “I think it would be good for you to attend. It may give you some ideas for your own wedding to King Warrington.”
Again with the pressure to marry King Warrington. Why was everyone bent on it? Anyone who knew them had to see they weren’t a good couple. A good political union perhaps, but nothing more.
“Your attendance would be noted and appreciated. The duke flew in for your father’s funeral.”
Serena didn’t recall who had attended the service. Those days were a haze of decisions about psalms to read and songs to sing. “Is King Warrington attending the wedding?” She wasn’t sure if his presence was a motivation to attend or a reason not to. She and Warrington had to appear a certain way in public, to look as if they were strong and reliable. Their countries wouldn’t want to see a bickering, deeply divided couple running the countries.
“I believe he is planning to.” Serena could do without the small smile that crept across Wagner’s face. He, like so many of her countrymen, was eager to see her married, presumably because he had no confidence in her abilities to lead the country. She stifled the doubts that crept in at the slightest opening.
“I will attend.” The words left her mouth feeling dry and her palms sweaty. She could have made an excuse, sent a lovely gift and a personal note, but she wanted Acacia—and herself—to be viewed as strong. She would prove that she was capable of running her country. She stood to lose too much otherwise.
Mitchell clasped his hands together. “I will communicate your intentions to the Duke of Elion and ask Iliana to make travel arrangements.”
He left her office and Serena unfastened the top button of her blouse. It was too hot and the starched shirt was suffocating her. She reached for the phone and called Casimir.
The moment she heard his voice on the line, she felt better. “What are you up to?”
“What’s the matter? You sound ill,” Casimir said.
“I am ill. I agreed to attend a wedding. I can’t go to a wedding. It’s the Duke of Elion’s. Lots of royalty will be in attendance looking elegant and refined, which will only highlight how ridiculously wrong it is for me to be there.” She would make a fool of herself. She wouldn’t say the right things. She would commit faux pas that would be printed in the tabloids, highlighting her ineptitude. Maybe she should call Wagner and tell him she had changed her mind.
“Cut yourself some slack. You can do this. I’ve seen you in social situations. I will be there, too, and you’ll be fine,” Casimir said.
Surely, he was exaggerating. She didn’t feel fine in public. She felt unruly and loud and inappropriate.
A horn blared in the background and Casimir swore. “Sorry, someone just cut me off in traffic.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Running errands.”
“In Acacia?” she asked.
“In Icarus.”
Why did that seem oceans away? She wished she could see him now. Her fascination with him had morphed into a crush, and it was becoming something deeper, stronger, the more time they spent together.
She had never felt this way about a man before. Their connection was intimate and she lived to see him again. She found him exciting and desirable. She had none of the same feelings for her future betrothed, the King of Rizari.
But even if the “right man” for her felt wrong, nothing could make what she had with Casimir right.
* * *
Casimir was enjoying the afternoon on The Buccaneer. Buying a boat had been on his mind for a long time. When he’d needed an excuse to be in Acacia, the purchase had filled in nicely. “You need to work on your charm,” Casimir said to his old friend and handed him a beer.
“The princess was put off by my approach,” DeSante said and twisted off the top.
Not a question. “Of course she was. You’re treating her like a hostile and she isn’t.”
DeSante took a sip of his beer. “I am making it easier for you. The less she trusts me, the more she’ll let you in. Are you making progress?”
He hoped he was. She was making time for him and confiding in him. “I’m getting to know her better every day. She trusts me.” Knowing he had her trust and was misusing it bothered him. But this was for the greater good. It was all part of seeing his plan through.
“Learning anything I can use to persuade her to support our cause?” DeSante asked.
Serena was vulnerable. Her personal life was in shambles and her royal world was crumbling. He could give DeSante some information on how to get to Serena, which buttons to push, but he knew that DeSante would go for the throat and Casimir wanted to protect Serena. “Not yet. I’ll keep working on it.”
“I need you to work faster. She’ll be in bed with the King of Rizari soon. Once that happens, I’m done. For that matter, so are you.”
The image of her in bed with Samuel Warrington incensed him. Casimir was careful to keep his emotions concealed. President DeSante was not above using every weakness to his advantage and having feelings for
Princess Serena was Casimir’s flaw to be exploited. “I will not let her get into bed with that man. He’s doing a grand job being a world-class ass to her. That helps.”
“Make yourself a wedge. Do not allow their relationship to progress.”
He wouldn’t, though he couldn’t take credit for how easy it had been. “What other methods would you suggest I employ to advance our cause?”
“Extortion. Play on her fears. Get inside her head.”
DeSante’s ambition knew no bounds. It was those extreme tactics that had garnered him the reputation for being cold, dictatorial and fierce. “I will get you what you want, but I will not hurt her or jerk her around.”
DeSante sighed. “I should have sent Rolland.”
The threat was clear and Casimir didn’t appreciate it. “Don’t use him to pressure me. Rolland is a demon and I suggest you keep him in his cage.” If Rolland showed up at the castle to convince the princess to bargain with the president of Icarus, he would take their goal to an extreme. Rolland didn’t accept no for an answer.
“Consider him tamed. But if I don’t see results soon, I’m sending in someone else to close the deal.”
* * *
Casimir needed the afternoon to catch up on some tasks. From the time he’d left his place in Icarus, someone had been following him, so he made a good show of visiting a men’s clothing store, a big box store, staying in character every moment and letting himself be photographed. Who was tailing him? It wasn’t DeSante’s style and DeSante had no reason to question Casimir’s loyalty. Their conversation the day before told Casimir where he stood. He was still focused on his goals, but if he lost focus, DeSante would use someone else to get the job done.
Casimir didn’t like the idea of someone digging into his life. DeSante had done a good job of establishing Casimir’s fake identity, but nothing was bulletproof except the truth.
When Casimir was finished with his errands, he entered a busy part of the shopping district and disappeared. After he had doubled back twice to ensure he wasn’t followed, he found an unoccupied bench in a crowded park and pulled out his smartphone.
He needed to check in with his spies in Rizari without anyone intercepting the messages and a public Wi-Fi network served the purpose.
Casimir was concerned about Serena and how she was affected by his schemes. He didn’t want her destroyed when her plan to marry King Warrington fell apart, but he wouldn’t allow her to make such a terrible mistake and marry a murderer.
He read his emails with a great deal of pleasure. Warrington had no idea what was coming. He thought he had stolen the throne and no one could challenge him. Casimir had every intention of making Samuel pay for killing his father.
Chapter 5
Elion was a beautiful green country. The fog hovered for most of the day and it seemed to rain often, as if precipitation was a constant. But Serena was glad to be here. Iliana was beside her, searching her schedule, ensuring none of her commitments were overbooked, while also setting aside time for Serena to be alone.
“The Countess of Provence is attending the wedding with a guest. Is Fiona’s guest Casimir?” Iliana asked.
Casimir and Fiona seemed close, and though he’d said they were friends, Serena imagined Casimir being the perfect date. Good manners, textbook handsome and a total gentleman. Weddings could bring out a woman’s romantic fantasies and having a man like Casimir close could fulfill them.
“Perhaps. It wouldn’t surprise me. Casimir mentioned he was attending the wedding, but he didn’t say if he was invited or if he was attending as someone’s guest.”
“Will it bother you if he’s here with Fiona?” Iliana asked.
Serena didn’t think that Casimir was interested in Fiona sexually. She was beautiful and charming, but Serena was more certain of her own connection to Casimir. “No more so than it might bother you if someone you liked was here with another woman.” Serena had picked up on something between Iliana and DeSante. She was waiting for Iliana to admit to it.
“What are you getting at?”
“Just wondering if you have a crush on a certain president who will also be attending this wedding.”
Iliana went ramrod straight. “A crush? On Demetrius?”
The use of his first name was telling. Serena reached across the car seat and took her friend’s hands. “Iliana, you are my cousin and I love you. I’ve noticed things. Like how excited you become when you talk to him or about him. That you seem strangely giddy when his name comes up in conversation. The other day, I saw you lower your head to hide your smile when his name was spoken.”
Iliana blew out her breath. “Is it that bad? Because I feel ridiculous when I’m around him. I can’t help it. I know he is a jerk. Total jerk. But he’s a cute jerk, you know?”
“I understand.”
Iliana let her head fall back against the headrest. “I feel better that you know and it’s out in the open. I’ve been worried but I can’t talk myself out of it. This is the most absurd crush. Why would I like him?”
“I reserve the right to change my mind at any point, but I think he has some desirable qualities. He’s strong and determined and resolute.”
Iliana looked at Serena skeptically. “He forced you to speak to him. Again, that’s a jerk move.”
Serena shrugged. “He didn’t harm me. I don’t think his intention was even to scare me. I think he wanted his way. So, he’s a little like a two-year-old having a temper tantrum, but definitely not evil-villain material. He hasn’t moved on Acacia when we both know he could have and easily won.”
“You were bent on hating him, but now you’re cheering him on. What’s changed?” Iliana asked.
Serena had never hated DeSante. Feared him, yes. But the more she learned about Icarus, Rizari and Acacia, the more she understood why the king and the president made the maneuvers they did. Her relationship with Casimir had also shed light on Iliana’s relationship with DeSante. “We can’t help who we’re attracted to. Even when it’s inconvenient and makes no sense, it’s beyond us.”
Iliana looked out the window. “I don’t plan to act on my feelings.”
“Nor do I,” Serena said, thinking of Casimir.
As they drove up the driveway leading to their hotel, Serena was shocked by the crowd gathered outside the metal gate. “Why so many people?”
“The hotel has been fully booked for the wedding. The crowd is there to take pictures of the rich and famous guests that will be arriving,” Iliana said.
Iliana was well informed on matters pertaining to this wedding and on social issues in general. When their car pulled through the gates close to the hotel, uniformed guards held back the crowd that tried to surge through.
Cameras flashed as photographers pressed them against the window of her vehicle.
“When we arrive at the front of the hotel, if you can, climb out of the car, turn around, smile and wave. Try to look relaxed,” Iliana said.
Serena could do that. She wouldn’t have to say anything, and appearing happy and in control for ten seconds shouldn’t be hard. As long as she didn’t trip or otherwise appear like a fool.
When the vehicle stopped to allow them out, she stepped out of the car, smiled, relaxed her shoulders and turned. She lifted her hand and waved to the crowd gathered.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of King Warrington. Of all the terrible timing! Serena wanted to dive back in the car. Instead, remembering she was being watched, she smiled in his direction.
Samuel was a man with presence. As he strolled toward her, he wasn’t smiling, but he seemed pleased to see her. The crowd grew louder and cameras flashed more incessantly. “Serena, what a happy coincidence.”
The king bowed to her and she returned the greeting with a curtsy and the lowering of her head. “Your Highness.”
“This will be our first weekend away together,” he said.
He phrased it as if this was a romantic rendezvous between them and that made her
terribly uncomfortable. They had not discussed this wedding or made plans to see each other while in Elion. “I am sure we will see more of each other.”
King Warrington waved to the crowd and then set his hand on Serena’s lower back, leading her into the hotel. As the doors shut behind them, he removed his hand as if he had been burned. “I’ll have my secretary get in touch with Iliana to see when our schedules align.”
With that, he strutted away from her. Serena gave him credit for knowing how to work a crowd. Serena would learn to do the same. So much was riding on her. It wasn’t an option to appear a clumsy dope in public.
* * *
In her beautiful hotel suite, Serena pulled a bottle of water from the small refrigerator. She offered one to Iliana who refused with a shake of her hand. Serena twisted off the metal top and took a long swallow. Facing the crowd and running into King Warrington had been nerve-racking. She needed to keep her cool and not let a couple unplanned incidents derail her confidence.
The theme of the weekend was relaxed and happy. At least, appear to be relaxed and happy.
The bellhop arrived with her suitcases. Serena handed him a generous tip and he thanked her before leaving the room.
“I’ll unpack your bags,” Iliana said.
Serena shook her head. “We’ll unpack together.”
“Serena, you need to be more...”
“Mean? Rude?”
Iliana laughed. “No, not mean or rude. But you should let me do my job. You don’t need to help me. Be a little more demanding to the staff.”
Serena thought again of the possible mole in her midst. “Are you saying this for a reason?” Had Iliana heard something about the mole? Did she have suspicions about someone they worked with?
“I’ve been watching others and thinking about how they appear to their country,” Iliana said.
“By others do you mean DeSante?”
Iliana rolled her eyes. “Not everything I think is about him. I believe the most successful leaders position themselves above the people around them and demand their respect. You want to rub elbows with everyone as peers. You are the queen. Try asking me to do something.”