by Emma Lea
“So, you ask Clarissa to marry you and then tell her she will be a markissia.”
Markissia, the Kalopsian title for marchioness, which would make me a marquess, or markissios.
Oh god. I couldn’t breathe. I tugged at my tie and my collar. Meanwhile, my mother continued to prattle on about god-knew what. I was about to pass out and all my mother cared about was ensuring I had enough tailored suits to take with me because, in her words, ‘there is no way Kalopsia had any decent tailors left.’
I wiped my hands on my pants and took a breath before knocking on my sister’s office door.
“Come,” she said from inside.
I’d already gotten past her gatekeeper and been announced via the intercom, but no one, and I did mean no one, entered Euphemia Andino’s domain without knocking first.
I straightened my glasses and opened the door, closing it behind me and crossing the office quickly.
“Do you have those numbers for me?” she asked without looking up from her computer screen.
“I emailed them to you five minutes ago,” I replied, not taking a seat until she bid me to.
“There must be a lag,” Effie said, clicking around her screen and looking for the reports I’d sent her.
I waited silently, my hands behind my back. I tried not to fidget or shuffle my feet, Effie hated that. She said it was a sign of weakness, and Effie hated weakness of any kind. Instead, I stared out the wall of windows behind Effie that showcased downtown Boston in all its glory. The office took up the entire top floor of the brand new One Congress building at Bulfinch Crossing. Effie lived in one of the penthouses in an adjacent building in the same precinct and had offered me one as well, but I found living at home easier. The family estate in Newton was large enough that I had my own wing but still had the convenience of a cook and cleaner and all the amenities paid for. Not that I was lacking finances, I just preferred not to spend them when I could get the same thing for free.
Effie was the spitting image of our mother, if a little more severe. It was the expression she wore almost constantly that gave her the severe look. If my sister ever really let go and smiled, she would be absolutely gorgeous. She was three years younger than me, but she was the CEO of the family business. Father handed her the reins almost the same day she graduated with her MBA. I’d been working in the finance department of the company for a year by then, but there was never any question that the CEO position would go to Effie. I didn’t even hold the CFO position, which suited me just fine. I liked numbers and data sets and not being responsible for the financial well-being of the company our parents had built.
“Good,” Effie mumbled, scrolling her way through the numbers on the screen. “These are good, much better than I expected.”
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, the slightest upturn of a smile on her lips as she finally looked at me.
“Sit,” she said, and I did. “So, what have you decided?”
I didn’t need to tell Effie why I was in her office. Mother would have already filled my sister in on the letter and summons from the king.
“I’m proposing to Clarissa tonight,” I said.
“I knew that,” she replied with a grimace.
Effie didn’t particularly like Clarissa, but she would never forbid me to marry her. She would make her displeasure known in other ways, although she would never aim her digs at me. Effie treated me as if she were the older sibling, doting on me when we were younger and acted as my protector through the harrowing years of high school bullying.
No, Effie wouldn’t make any disparaging remarks about Clarissa to me or make me feel stupid for wanting to marry her. She would, however, make life uncomfortable for Clarissa, or at least she had in the past. I didn’t know—but I hoped—that would change once Clarissa and I were married.
“Are you going to answer the king’s summons?”
I nodded. “Yes,” I replied and then immediately followed up with, “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
Effie picked up a silver pen and tapped it against her chin as she studied me across her desk.
“I think it will be good for you,” she said finally. “You’ll get to see the old country, meet some new people—” I grimaced. I wasn’t a fan of meeting new people…or people in general. She smiled fondly at me, or at least what passed for a smile in Effie’s world. “And I dare say the king could do with some of your stellar financial advice.”
I grimaced again. I didn’t want to give the new king financial advice.
“You sell yourself far too short,” Effie said with a shake of her head. “I would give you the CFO position in a heartbeat if you asked.”
“I don’t want it,” I replied. It was true. I got anxious just thinking about being the head of the department, although it made me feel good to know Effie valued my opinion and saw me as more than just the underachiever our parents saw me as.
“So, you’ll go to Kalopsia and see what the king wants,” Effie said with a nod.
“And I’ll probably come back,” I replied.
I was under no illusion that I was not the type of person the king needed in his new court.
“He should have summoned you,” I said.
She shook her head. “I would have turned him down,” she replied. “I’m already the queen of my domain, I don’t need a royal title to go with it.”
It was true. If ever there was a position custom made for a person, CEO of Andino Raïda was it for Effie. I still didn’t know the place where I fit. I doubted I would find it in Kalopsia, but it couldn’t hurt to go there and have a look around. No one said I had to stay there indefinitely. I may hate it. The king might hate me. None of this was set in stone.
“When will you leave?” Effie asked, leaning forward again and looking back at her computer. I was already being dismissed.
“A month or so,” I replied, standing to my feet. “Does that give you long enough to replace me?”
Effie looked up at me then and smiled softly. “No one can replace you, Lucas,” she said. She looked back at the computer and then back at me as a sudden thought hit her. “Have you told Frankie?”
I shook my head. “Not yet,” I said.
I would have rung Frankie as soon as Mother left my office, except I knew she had an appointment with her Ph.D. supervisor. I really wanted to talk to her, but it would have to wait.
“I’ll call her soon,” I said as I turned to go.
“I’m sure she’ll tell you the same thing I did,” Effie said, her eyes drifting back to the computer screen.
“I’m sure she will.”
If Effie was unimpressed with Clarissa, then she was positively enamored with Frankie. Effie and Frankie got on like a house on fire, and if I hadn’t met her first, Effie would have made Frankie her best friend. They had a common interest—looking out for me.
Chapter 2
Lucas
“So the king wants to see you,” Demetrius Andino said as I walked into the library.
My father was seated behind his large mahogany desk with a glass of raïda in his hand. It wasn’t his first by the distinct aniseed scent in the air, and wouldn’t be his last before he crawled into bed.
Since handing the company over to Effie, Demetrius spent his days on the Brae Burn golf course or at the club drinking with his cronies. The desk in the library was only there to make him feel like he still had at least a toe in the waters of Andino Raïda. But we all knew the truth, Effie was the boss and she only let us play in her sandbox.
I didn’t think my father minded all that much. He’d spent a good portion of his life working in the company, first in his youth back in Kalopsia under the instruction of his father and his grandfather, and then re-establishing it here in America after we fled Kalopsia. We were some of the lucky ones, escaping with most of our fortune and our lives. Others weren’t so fortunate.
“He does,” I replied, taking the seat opposite the desk and smoothing my tie.
I w
as on my way out when my father summoned me. I really didn’t have the headspace to deal with his posturing, not when I was trying to remember all the words I wanted to say to Clarissa.
“And you’ll be taking Clarissa?”
I nodded. Nothing in my life was private. I didn’t even try to keep secrets anymore. It was easier to avoid the conflict and just let the family pry into my life. I had nothing to hide, anyway. My life was very boring, although I preferred it that way.
“Good,” Demetrius said with a sharp nod. “You need her.”
I didn’t answer, even if the pronouncement stung a little. I knew I wasn’t what my father had hoped for in a first-born son, but it still upset me to be constantly reminded of it.
“Have you told him, yet?” Mother asked as she swept into the room and headed straight for the liquor cabinet.
“I was just getting to it,” Father replied.
I held in my sigh and stilled my fidgeting while I waited for them to say whatever it was they felt was important enough to make me late for my date.
“We are concerned about you taking on the title and going to Kalopsia,” Father said as Mother took the seat beside me.
“Kalopsia is not what it used to be,” Mother said, pursing her lips before taking a sip of her drink.
“Which is why we have agreed that unless you are married, I won’t pass the title to you.”
“Um…what?”
I didn’t know if my father had the authority to deny me the title, especially if the king decreed the title was to go to me.
Mother patted my knee and smiled a sad, patronizing smile at me like I was a two-year-old who didn’t understand why I couldn’t have candy for dinner.
“All the decent people fled the country,” she said. “The only ones left are the poor and desperate. They will take one look at you and your title and seduce you without another thought.”
I swallowed, mortified at my mother’s opinion of me.
“I don’t think it will be an issue,” I said, thankful my voice didn’t waver. “I’m proposing to Clarissa tonight. We might not be married, but we will be engaged by the time I leave.”
“Yes, good,” Father said with a nod and a gruff voice. “But just in case things don’t go as you expected, if she turns you down, then we won’t let you go.”
“You think Clarissa will turn me down?” I asked, my voice very nearly squeaking.
“Of course not, dear,” Mother said, once more patting my knee. “Just…you know…we wanted you to know how important it is for you to go through with this proposal.”
My eyebrows popped up. “You thought I would chicken out?”
“You’re not exactly the most assertive man,” Father said and swigged the last of his drink.
“And we didn’t want you to use going to Kalopsia as a way out of asking her to marry you,” Mother supplied.
“It might seem like an exciting adventure with exotic women throwing themselves at you, but it’s not,” Father said.
I didn’t know what to feel. My parents thought I would use Kalopsia as an excuse to run away. Until that point, I hadn’t even wanted to go to Kalopsia. I liked my life. Other people might see it as monotonous, but it was my life, and it suited me fine.
Marrying Clarissa was the next logical step in our relationship, and I had never once thought about using this summons to Kalopsia as an excuse to break-up. If anything, having a royal title and a place in the royal court would actually make Clarissa more inclined to marry me.
“Women will throw themselves at you,” Mother said. “Gold diggers, only after you for your money and your position. We know how…soft…you can be and we wouldn’t consider ourselves doing our parental duty if we didn’t protect you however we could.”
“And so you will deny me the title and the place in the royal court unless I am married?” I still couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with them.
“If you and Clarissa are engaged, then that will be good enough,” Father said as if he was extending me an olive branch and bending the rules for me.
The word no bubbled up in my throat. I wanted to stand and walk out and tell them to…tell them to…
I sighed and slumped in my chair. Who was I kidding? I’d never stood up to my parents ever, and I wouldn’t be doing it now either. I hated conflict and although it made them see me as weak, I would much rather keep the peace than deal with their tantrums if I defied them.
With the possibility of the trip to Kalopsia being taken away from me, I discovered that I really wanted to go. I’d never been away from the influence of my family for more than a few days at a time. Even when I attended college, I lived at home. Now I had the opportunity to go to a whole other country, away from them and their disappointed looks, and I wanted it more than I’d wanted anything else in my life.
If I had to be engaged to Clarissa to make it happen, then that was what I would be.
I smoothed my tie and buttoned my suit coat before I knocked on the door and waited. Clarissa lived by herself in an 1880s antique colonial in Dover, just minutes from Wellesley. The house had whimsical yellow siding and dark shutters and didn’t really suit Clarissa in the slightest. But it was a gift to her from her parents, so she didn’t complain about it too much. I knew she would have preferred something in Boston proper, and no doubt she had plans to sell the house after a suitable time so as not to offend her parents, and buy something more to her tastes. Although, as I stood back and took in the beautifully appointed house, I couldn’t help thinking it would be a delightful family home.
I froze at the thought. I was proposing to Clarissa, sure, but having a family together? I didn’t think I was ready for that quite yet.
The door opened, startling me out of my imminent panic. I leaned forward to brush a kiss on Clarissa’s proffered cheek and then handed her the bouquet I’d picked up earlier from the florist.
“Oh, these are lovely,” she said as she ushered me inside.
I followed her through the house to the recently renovated kitchen and watched while she filled a vase with water and arranged the flowers.
“Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” I said, tugging at the cuffs of my sleeves. “My parents wanted a quick word with me before I left.”
“Is that why you chose that tie?” Clarissa asked and then waved her hand. “Shall we go?”
I looked down at my tie. It was blue. “There’s something wrong with my tie?” I asked as I followed her back down the hall to the front door.
“It’s fine,” she said, reaching for her coat.
I held it for her as she slipped it over her shoulders. Her dress was black and made of a floaty material with large white flowers. It would be designer, of course, and one of the big names. Shiny gold shoes and large gold earrings completed her outfit, and my tailored suit felt like a rumpled thrift-store purchase beside her. Or maybe that was just me.
“You look lovely,” I said, offering her my arm as we headed down the path to the car.
“Thank you,” she replied with a tight smile. “It’s Ralph Lauren. I picked it up when I went shopping with your mother the other day.”
I opened the door for her and then walked around the car to the driver’s side. I didn’t have a problem with Clarissa spending time with my mother, it just seemed they spent more time together than Clarissa and I did. And then I had to wonder, had my mother prepped Clarissa about the proposal? Was that dress specifically chosen for the event?
I took a breath and tried to shrug off the tension in my shoulders before I climbed into the car.
It was a quiet drive to the restaurant, and I kept checking my watch. My parents’ ambush before I left had already put me behind schedule, and the traffic as we drove into downtown Boston wasn’t doing me any favors.
“We should have left earlier,” Clarissa said as we wove through Chestnut Hill.
I rolled my lips together and held back my sigh. It wouldn’t do to get into a disagreement on the night I planned
to propose. There was a lot riding on Clarissa agreeing to marry me, more than there had been the day before when I picked up the ring.
I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and rolled my neck, willing myself to calm down. She would say yes. She had to say yes. All the hints had been there; the rings on her Instagram feed, the increased lunches she had with my mother, and the wedding magazines I’d spied spread out on her coffee table a week or so ago.
We had been dating for a while now and getting engaged was the next logical step. We could plan the wedding for next year and that would give me time to get established in Kalopsia with the royal court…if that’s what I decided to do. Would Clarissa even want to uproot her life and move to the Mediterranean? I knew Kalopsia wasn’t what it used to be, but with a new king and a new royal court, surely things would be looking up. And Clarissa would be a markissia, surely that would be a draw for her. Marrying me and staying in the U.S. was fine, but I was just a glorified accountant here. In Kalopsia we would be titled and important, and surely she would prefer that?
The traffic slowed to a crawl as we approached Fenway Park. Clarissa huffed and turned her face to the passenger side window, her jaw clenched. Okay, so maybe I should have taken the increased traffic into account, but it was just one more thing I had to think about and my brain was already overloaded with everything I’d been hit with earlier. The king sent me a letter, written by his own hand, requesting my presence in his court. I didn’t think the entirety of that had quite hit me yet. I hadn’t even talked to Frankie about it. I’d planned to call her while I drove out to pick up Clarissa, but with my parents making me late leaving, I knew she would have already been at work. Maybe if I’d connected with her and talked it over, I wouldn’t feel so scattered and I would have planned the route to the restaurant better.
Who knew a simple thing like traffic could threaten to derail a proposal?