by C. J. Miller
A cleric moved toward Iliana. He swung at her, his expression turning murderous. Demetrius tackled him, grabbing his arms.
A collective gasp went up from the crowd. In the man’s hand was a syringe. He was strong, but Demetrius was stronger. Demetrius twisted the man’s arm, forcing the syringe into the attacker and injecting him with whatever was inside.
The assassin’s eyes widened.
“Secure the other heirs,” Demetrius shouted. One of his servicemen was already with Iliana. Demetrius watched the assailant seizing on the ground. He felt nothing except disgust. The man had attacked his wife. Whatever poison he had meant to deliver would now be his death. It was a fitting end.
Demetrius and his servicemen led Iliana out of the church, Demetrius taking a post at his wife’s side.
She was shaking in his arms. “Who was that? What was that?”
“An assassin and another assassination attempt.”
Iliana stopped walking and took his lapels in her hands. “You killed that man.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He tried to hurt you, Iliana. I have no tolerance for that. You should know that by now. If someone comes at me or mine, I will kill them.”
Chapter 5
“We couldn’t get the message to him,” Amon said.
Demetrius appreciated that Amon wasn’t mincing words or making excuses, but the statement frustrated him. Now back home in Icarus, he had been trying to send a message to Alexei in prison, to obtain a status on how he was faring and let him know that Demetrius had not given up. He would never give up trying to rescue Alexei.
The NSS leader handed him a file. Demetrius opened it, already familiar with its contents. It covered everything the NSS knew about Alexei: he was presumably still alive, he was allowed twenty minutes a day in the yard and no one inside the prison would provide a picture. Most of the intel had been gathered from ex-cons who had been released from the prison after serving their terms. In exchange for their cooperation, Demetrius provided them with a nice life in another country.
Demetrius assumed that his message to Alexei had been intercepted, like every message before it. Demetrius could not bribe or trick anyone working in the prison. Their fear of retribution from the baron of Aetos was too great.
The worst part of silence between him and Alexei was that his brother may believe that Demetrius had forgotten him. He wouldn’t turn his back on his brother, but would Alexei hold to that and know Demetrius wouldn’t give up?
A tap on his office door and Amon slipped out the office’s hidden exit. He didn’t like anyone seeing his face. He preferred to be unknown and untraceable.
“Come in,” Demetrius said, and closed the file on his brother. He knew every word by heart.
Iliana entered, looking beautiful in a floor-length dress with narrow straps at the top. It was colorful and bright, like Iliana.
“Yes?” His tone was sharper than he intended, but it took time to shake off his distress about his brother.
“I’m planning to go out shopping for a while.”
“Shopping?” Why did that sound suspicious? She’d shown no interest in shopping.
“What else is there for me to do around here?” She lifted her hands as if in wonder. “Maybe I could at least get some curtains and some knickknacks so this place would be more welcoming.”
Demetrius wanted her to be happy. He was aware his home lacked a personal touch. “This place could use some improvements. If you need things to do, I can also have someone send you a list of charities that need volunteers.”
Iliana nodded. “Sure.” She turned to leave and then stopped in the doorway, setting her hand on the door frame and turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“I’m fine. But you look upset.” She turned fully around now, studying him.
He neutralized his face. “I have a lot of work.”
She walked toward him and touched the edge of his desk. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” He couldn’t discuss his brother. Not yet. She was still mad that he had withheld information about the king. She wasn’t ready to consider using her title to help him.
She frowned. “Fine. If you change your mind, I’m around.”
“Don’t leave the house without your guards,” he said.
Her shoulders sagged. “I won’t.”
He wouldn’t change his mind. He wouldn’t discuss Alexei with her until he had the conversation perfectly planned and the timing was right. If she knew what he needed from her, she might deny his request, and that was unacceptable.
* * *
It was the first time Iliana recalled seeing Demetrius upset. Deeply upset. She didn’t think it had anything to do with her. When it came to her, he seemed to have an invisible level of restraint, as if he could turn off his emotions. What had happened? Had a political problem arisen? She had read the news online that morning, but hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary that would concern the president.
Iliana had a good sense of others’ emotions, and she wished Demetrius would confide in her. It would show he was making an effort, and after his deceit, he needed to make a very big one.
As Iliana wandered through the home decor store, she absently picked up a few pieces, trying to collect ideas on how to make Demetrius’s home more inviting. Decorating wasn’t high on her priority list, but waiting around to hear about the king’s will was making her antsy. Stewing on her marriage wasn’t appealing, either. She needed to stay busy, even if it was with mundane things.
She wanted to call her half siblings and talk to them. They had been understandably upset at the funeral. Could she try again to connect with them under less emotionally devastating circumstances?
Thinking of the king’s death, Iliana felt she had lost someone important, which was ridiculous. She hadn’t known the king of Valencia. Learning of their connection a few days ago had shaken her, but had she truly lost anything?
Growing up as an only child, Iliana had wanted siblings of her own. After losing her parents, she had desperately wanted someone in that role, someone to stand next to her and to understand what she had been going through, to hold her hand and support her. Her cousins, Serena and Danae, had been there for her, but she’d been jealous of their closeness growing up and wanted a similar relationship for herself.
Iliana looked at the furniture and other items for sale. It was too hard to choose pieces she liked because Demetrius’s house didn’t feel like hers.
They weren’t moving in the direction of domestic bliss, and pretending otherwise made her look and feel foolish.
She left the store, aware of Demetrius’s security close behind her. Would she ever grow accustomed to being followed? The only place where she had privacy was inside the house, but that was beginning to feel like a jail. She could only move around freely in one part of the house: Demetrius’s private wing, where his bedroom was located. The rest was used for offices and staff members who worked closely with Demetrius.
Iliana stopped for coffee and sat, with her mug, near the back of the restaurant. Having traveled with Queen Serena, she was accustomed to people looking in her direction, although they were not usually looking at her. But one of the restaurant patrons clearly was.
The woman, who seemed familiar, approached. After she removed her hat and sunglasses, Iliana recognized her. Maria, the king’s daughter.
Security stopped her, but Iliana intercepted them before they patted her down. Maria was traveling with her own bodyguards. As their security teams eyed each other with hostility, Iliana gestured to the chair across from her. “Please sit. I’m surprised to see you,” Iliana said. “What brings you to Icarus?”
“Looking for you,” Maria said. “I trie
d to see you at the president’s house, but I was denied entrance.”
She hadn’t been told she’d had a guest. “I apologize. I will speak to my husband and his staff about our manners, especially as it relates to family.” The word family felt awkward on her tongue but good in her chest.
Maria set her hands on the table. “I need your help. I know after the way I treated you at my father’s funeral—our father’s funeral—you have every right to refuse me.”
She wouldn’t. Her desperation for a connection to family was too great. “I was planning to call you, each of you, to reach out again. The king’s funeral wasn’t the place for a real discussion. Please tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Is there a place we can speak in private?” Maria looked around. In the busyness of the café, the four men in black trench coats and dark sunglasses drew attention. Though Iliana was open to speaking with her sister, she wanted it to be on safe ground. They didn’t know who was targeting the royal family, and until they did, Iliana would exercise caution.
“We could return to the house and speak,” Iliana said.
At Maria’s nod, they stood. Maria slipped her sunglasses over her eyes. “I will meet you there.”
* * *
Iliana arrived at the house before Maria. She now wished she had a proper place to sit with her guest. It was silly to think about, but her mother had raised her with good manners. Demetrius’s place left much to be desired. She made a mental note to put some effort into her domestic and decorating skills over the next several weeks.
When Maria arrived, Iliana escorted her to the kitchen and started to fix tea. Their respective security teams waited outside the kitchen door, and Demetrius’s guard appeared at the back door leading to the garden.
Demetrius’s butler, Abeiron, swept into the room. He was tall and lanky, his uniform pressed and tailored, his expression neutral. He missed nothing; every detail was in his purview.
“Mrs. DeSante, please allow me.” With expert precision, he took over the task, brushing her away.
Iliana sat with Maria at the wooden table. “We have privacy. Please tell me what’s on your mind.”
Maria took a deep breath. “Your servants can be trusted?”
Iliana started at the words your servants.
“The president’s staff has been thoroughly vetted.” If Demetrius allowed them to work in his home, Iliana had a high degree of confidence in their trustworthiness.
Maria removed her gloves and set them on the table. “I’ve visited with my siblings to discuss Stella.”
“What about her?” No amount of discussion would turn Stella into a reasonable and kind woman. She was bent on power and being the sole heir.
“She wants to change the will. She wants everything for herself.”
Stella had struck her as greedy and manipulative, so this news wasn’t unexpected. “I am sure that is not a simple task. There must be provisions in place to prevent it.” Her law degree was gathering dust and she hadn’t practiced law in Valencia, but she presumed their inheritance laws would prevent such corruption.
“We don’t know what Stella has been working on over the past couple of years while our father was sick. She could have convinced him to edit his will or write us out entirely. Who knows what Dad did when he was medicated?”
Iliana wasn’t sure of her place in these matters. “While I am sorry that this situation is dissolving into a free-for-all, I don’t have a strong interest in whatever inheritance the king may have left me.”
Maria shot her a disbelieving look. “You stand to gain much power.”
Iliana didn’t know what power in Valencia would do for her. “My place is in Icarus, and my home is Acacia.”
Maria’s hands curled into fists on the table. “But you must feel you have a responsibility in Valencia to see that Stella doesn’t take over. We need to stick together on this.”
The purpose of Maria’s visit was clear. She wanted an alliance with Iliana. “I don’t know where my place is.” She had never uttered a truer statement. “I am trying to take it day by day. I didn’t have much time with the king. I didn’t know him as you and your siblings did.” There was no bitterness or anger in her heart, mostly just a sense of loss.
“My father was a good man. He was a fair man. At times, he could be hard and unyielding. I suppose he had that in common with your husband,” Maria said.
Iliana didn’t deny it. Demetrius could be unrelenting, and he didn’t back down. “I’m surprised they were friends. It seems like two tenacious men would have trouble coming to terms.”
“Dad liked Demetrius. I guess he saw him as a younger version of himself,” Maria said. She accepted the cup of tea from Abeiron. “My father mellowed in his later years, but as a young man, he was a hothead. Always coming to blows, both verbally and physically, with the people around him.”
It was a long shot, but Iliana was looking for a connection. “Did my father ever mention me?”
Maria shook her head. “My father was a difficult man to read. He would be quiet and contemplative, but it was hard to know if that was because he had political matters on his mind or if he was thinking of something personal.”
Iliana was disappointed that the king hadn’t said anything about her, but she’d anticipated that. He had kept her parentage a secret. “What can I do to help you?”
“Join us and stop Stella from taking everything. The courts won’t believe that we are cut out of the will, especially if we stand united and don’t sabotage each other.”
Iliana wouldn’t stab anyone in the back, but she also had no power or connections that would allow her to persuade the courts she was a rightful heir. She didn’t feel like a rightful heir. She felt like an interloper. “I will have to think about it.”
Maria shook her head. “That’s a dismissal.”
Iliana hadn’t made up her mind. “No, it’s as I said. I will consider it.” As much as she longed for a family, she wouldn’t ally herself with people who a few days ago wished she didn’t exist. At this moment, fighting beside her siblings and being granted her inheritance meant nothing to her.
Demetrius entered the room and sat next to her at the table. He moved so quietly, she hadn’t heard him approach. “Welcome to our home, Maria. Please tell me what brings you to Icarus and into consultation with my wife.” His words were polite enough, but Iliana recognized an edge in his tone, an indication that he was close to doing something drastic.
What had him riled up now?
* * *
Demetrius could not allow Iliana to turn her back on her position within Valencia. If she didn’t ally herself with her half siblings, when the will was read, they could work together to snub her or convince the courts Iliana shouldn’t inherit anything.
“Maria has some concerns about the king’s will,” Iliana said.
“About Stella?” He could have played stupid, but he didn’t like to pretend when it came to matters of grave importance.
“There are rumors flying that she convinced my father to change his will,” Maria said.
“If she did, any magistrate who isn’t on the take will see through her scam,” Demetrius said.
Sitting behind Iliana with his chair angled toward Maria, he smelled his wife’s hair. The scent was like his garden in the spring. When Maria left, he would try to talk to Iliana again. How long could they live with this rift between them? It wasn’t good for either of them.
“You just said it yourself,” Maria said. “If the barrister and magistrates involved aren’t being bribed. Stella will make sure her friends and allies rule in her favor. She isn’t above buying support.”
If the king’s children had spent more time with their father in the past couple of years instead of jet-setting to luxury destinations on his dime, perhaps they wouldn’t be
in a panic now trying to secure their positions. Despite their ages, the king’s heirs hadn’t taken their places as adults in the royal family, and therefore the powerful and influential still viewed them as children. “You came here to ask my wife to help you. Help you do what?”
Maria looked at her hands and then back at Demetrius. “I hoped you would use your influence, as well.”
He couldn’t show his hand, not to Maria. If she knew how important it was to him that Iliana inherit, she could use that against him. “I think I have better things to do with my time than fight over land and money in another country.”
Maria leaned forward, setting her hands on the table. “You want something. Tell me what it is.”
“What makes you think I want something from you?”
Maria narrowed her eyes. “Maybe not from me, but you have an interest in Valencia. You wouldn’t have involved yourself with my father if you didn’t.”
Maria was more perceptive that he had believed. “Valencia is my closest neighbor to the north. My interest is in making sure we stay friendly.” That was his story for why he was involved in the Mediterranean.
“Name your price,” Maria said.
Manipulating the situation would take time. Iliana helping him after she became the marchioness of Agot was paramount. He looked at Iliana, as if considering her. “Iliana, what do you want?”
She looked over her shoulder at him in surprise. “I want for this to be resolved fairly for all involved.”
“Then, you want your inheritance?” Demetrius asked.
He saw it in her eyes. She wanted it. Rationalizing that it should mean nothing to her didn’t diminish the fact that the king had left her, his daughter, an important title, land and money. The gesture was meaningful to her. “If I am the king’s daughter—”
“You are,” Demetrius said. He wouldn’t allow anyone to question it.
Iliana cleared her throat. “Since I am the king’s daughter, I would like to be accepted by other members of my family.”
The hurt in her voice struck a chord with him. He hadn’t realized her family’s acceptance held weight. He covered her hand with his. “Then, you will need to spend time with them.”