by Robyn Grady
Helene chirped in. “Germany’s gorgeous. The castles are amazing.”
“London has some amazing architecture, too,” Darius replied.
“And one day, I’ll see London again,” Tahlia said. “When I’m ready.”
While Helene withered in her seat, Otis placed his napkin on the table and pinned his gaze on his host.
“I appreciate this invitation,” he said, “but in the best interests of everyone here, I should go.”
Tahlia gripped his hand and got to her feet. “If you go, I go.”
“You stay.” Cupping Tahlia’s cheek, Otis gave her a loving smile. “We’ll work this out. I promise.”
When she cupped his cheek, too, Otis slanted his head enough to brush a gentle kiss on her inside wrist. Then he bid everyone goodnight and crossed to the gold-trimmed door with an even gait. He was halfway out the door when Darius shot to his feet and called out Otis’s name. About to close the door behind him, the younger man angled stiffly around. Darius lifted his chin.
“I’d like you to stay,” he said, and then added, “Please.”
As Otis relented and returned to the table, Helene smiled and placed a palm on her belly. Darius might be practical but he could compromise. Two steps forward, one step back.
Eventually, this would all work out.
Chapter 15
Darius set down his pen. “I’ve already told you. The palace is off limits to the public.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
As Helene gazed out over a view of her favorite lawn and garden—one where she and Tahlia often walked together―Darius went on.
“It wouldn’t work. Certain barriers need to be kept in place.”
A week had passed since that dinner with Tahlia and Otis. While this whole soon-to-be-a-royal situation still seemed surreal, Helene was coming to terms with the idea of living a happy life here with Darius and their baby.
As he had said, their child would want for nothing, and she knew he’d make a wonderful father. Still, the thought of the ceremony and obligation that went along with it all left Helene feeling queasy. Pomp and ceremony weren’t her thing.
Which was probably why she’d made the suggestion to open the doors of the palace to the public and broom out some dust from the past. It would also show the people how open she wanted to be. That she had nothing to hide.
“What about an hour every fourth Sunday?” she said.
Darius had crossed to the fax machine. Poring over a document, he replied, “No.”
“Only the throne room, the main reception area, the formal dining room and, of course, the library. Maybe just a few times a year.”
“We’ll see.”
“Because I just had another thought.”
He twitched his shoulders and pretended to shiver. “This is where I get itchy.”
“The figurine’s still in your suite. I was thinking…” She crossed over to him. “We could bring her out even more. Like into a main reception room.”
He studied her for a long tense moment before returning to his desk. After folding into his chair, he gave his answer.
“No.”
“We could put her in an inch-thick glass case to make sure she’ll be safe. Then everyone can admire her.”
Sitting back, he twirled his silver ring round and round.
“I’ll speak to Yanni,” he finally said. “See what can be done about constructing a more permanent home for her outside of a safe.”
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s a let’s go one step at a time and give poor Darius a break for a while.”
When Helene swooped over to hug him, he caught and maneuvered her around. At the same time she landed on his lap, his mouth covered hers. A warm protected feeling wound through her, leaving her wanting a whole lot more.
When his lips left hers, his gaze reflected all the emotions bubbling up inside of her, too.
“Sure you’re not a lobbyist?” he growled.
“That’s a nice way of saying I nag.”
“But with a high rate of success. Perhaps I should put you on my ministry.”
“We’ll call it ‘Minister of Wanting To Spend More Time With You.’”
He was about to kiss her again when a third voice filtered across the room.
“Hard at work, I see.”
Helene wriggled off Darius’s lap to stand and straighten her dress as, looking as poised as ever, Tahlia moved into the room.
Darius stood, too. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”
“We’re going into town,” Helene said.
“I just came by to say…” The princess laced her hands before her. “Otis and I are going away together.”
Darius stiffened. Then his chest made a noise like a boulder rolling down a distant hill. “You are not eloping.”
Tahlia gave a groan. “Darius, we’re taking a vacation for a week. After our conversation the other night, we decided to see Germany together.”
Darius blinked then drew his shoulders back more. “And Otis thought he’d simply leave without asking permission?”
“Otis intends to speak with you tomorrow. He said that out of respect we wouldn’t go if you weren’t happy. But I’m letting you know that I’m going either way. I’m giving you the chance to respect Otis the same way he respects you. As a man. As an equal.”
Tahlia didn’t wait for a reply. She merely kissed them both good-bye then left. Darius returned to his desk and blindly stared at the blotter while Helene rocked back on her heels.
“I figure you don’t want to talk about it,” she said.
“You figured right.”
Okay. He needed time alone. But she didn’t think he was angry exactly. Just getting used to the fact that his baby sister had grown up.
Outside Darius’s office, Helene passed Yanni who was speaking to an employee. He nodded as she walked by.
Further down the hall, she found Tahlia.
“How’s he taking it?” Tahlia asked.
“Well, he’s not yelling.”
“Darius can yell if he wants. I have my life, and I’m going to live it.”
They walked together, each buried in their own thoughts. After a time, Tahlia smiled across. “Otis likes you.”
“I like him, too.”
“I told him about that unfinished story you found. How we’ve searched parts of the palace for the rest of it with no luck. He had an idea of where to look next. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.”
When Tahlia showed her to the library, Helene was confused. The room smelled old and filled with secrets, but she and Tahlia had come up empty handed when they’d searched in here the other day.
“We’ve already looked here.”
“Not here.” Tahlia headed for a particular bookshelf.
“I’m sure we did look through that shelf. On top and under it, too.”
“But we didn’t look behind it.”
Helene smiled and hurried over.
“The story gives some clues,” Tahlia went on. “Otis thought this might be the bookshelf that hid Acadia’s secret tunnel.”
Helene studied the bookshelf again. Her heart was pounding. If the secret passage was behind this bookshelf, it would make the story real beyond belief. Would torches still line the walls? Were rats still scuttling down the chambers?
They tugged, and then pulled, and then pushed until their arms and backs ached.
Finally Tahlia blew out an exhausted breath. “It won’t budge. Not an inch.”
But Helene was thinking about Acadia’s strength that night. Helene wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
She filled her lungs and gave the bookshelf one last muscle-burning push. As the wooden base finally began to grind against the floor, Tahlia jumped forward and they both heaved even harder. When they’d managed to push it aside enough, they held hands and looked behind.
There was nothing behind the bookshelf but solid wall.
Tahlia staggered bac
k while Helene withered into a nearby chair. “Why leave bits and pieces of that story all over the place? Why not write the thing then give it to someone to type up and maybe even publish?”
“You have to remember the times, Helene. Turbulent. Dangerous.” Tahlia sat down, too. “Maybe whoever wrote that story was frightened to make public any facts that might spark another rebellion. Maybe she stuffed pages away whenever and wherever she had the chance.”
A maid strolled in, saw them, and promptly turned on her heel.
Helene called out. “It’s okay. You can come through.”
The maid began polishing balustrade while Helene and Tahlia talked on about other possibilities. After a few minutes, the maid crossed over.
“Sorry for interrupting,” she said. “I overheard. You’re searching for lost pages of a story. Old pages. Hidden somewhere in the palace.”
Helene straightened. “You know something?”
The maid crossed over to a large world globe set within a mahogany stand. “I found it when I started polishing this room five years ago. I didn’t tell anyone. Just closed it up again.”
Helene and Tahlia both edged over at the same time the maid bent down and pressed in a slat at the globe’s base.
A drawer sprang out. Several yellowed pages lay inside.
Tahlia swept them up and they both began to read.
ᵿᵿᵿᵿᵿ
Leandros’s first instinct was to run to his boat and fight to douse the flames eating along its lines. This was his second home—his livelihood—but the damage was already done. The main mast creaked and moaned like a wounded beast then crashed into the water. The hull would soon be reduced to char and ash.
Who had set the fire, and where were those bastards hiding now?
Acadia leant her cheek against his arm. “Oh, Leandros, your beautiful boat.”
“Do you see anyone?” he asked with his jaw tight.
They surveyed the area but, other than the noise and color of the blaze, all seemed quiet. Then his focus shifted toward the darkening sky. Sparks carried by a brisk evening breeze flew from the direction of the palace. A piece of glowing debris caught a pine tree branch. The spot sizzled and consumed needles before the heat and red died away.
Acadia rubbed her cheek up and down his shoulder. “What will we do?”
“Take the ship-to-shore boat.”
“A row boat?”
“It has a sail. It’s beached behind those boulders.” He nodded at the sky. “The rebels are too busy enjoying themselves at the palace to worry about vandalizing anywhere else just yet. We’ll head for the second island.”
The royal villa there would be well stocked with supplies.
“And then?”
Turning, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “From there we go on to do and be anything and anyone we want.”
Hours later, they moored in a rugged cove a sailor would normally avoid. After dragging the boat on shore and camouflaging it with branches, Leandros lit a torch to see their way clearly over the pebbled beach. When they happened upon the entrance of a cave, he moved to hurry them inside, but Acadia stood back.
“The baby’s asleep,” she said. “But he’ll wake hungry and wet. We’ll keep moving until we reach the villa.”
“We can get supplies, but we can’t stay there. As soon as they can, men will gather, and when they can’t find you, they’ll look there. They intend to destroy everything that reminds them of your family, Acadia. Everything that represents its past and its future.”
When an image of her brother flashed in her mind, she shivered and he gripped her arm.
“After you and the baby are settled in, I’ll go on alone to get what we need. We’ll sail again before dawn.”
They traveled deep inside the cave, stopping at a chamber that looked to be a dead-end. But as he trailed the crackling torch and its light around, Acadia frowned. This didn’t make sense.
“Fresh torches are mounted on the walls,” she said. “And that corner is decorated with cushions and blankets.”
He nodded slowly. “A pirates’ lair.”
“No sign of hidden treasure.” She gravitated toward a ledge. “Other than this.”
Leandros joined her, arcing the torch around their find, illuminating the ample curves and distinctive lines. Acadia drew a fingertip around the figurine’s cheek. The stone was smooth and warm. Somehow strangely familiar.
“I overheard Father speaking to Risto once many years ago,” she said. “He spoke of handing on his responsibility. That it was time for Risto to meet the goddess.”
“Goddess?” A grin kicked up one side of Leandros’s mouth. “You mean this?”
But as she stood and studied the figurine in this quiet sanctuary cocooning them, the more certain Acadia became. It was said that the Goddess of Tierenias had not been seen by human eyes for a thousand years. Although the people believed in her powers, particularly on this island, there was no proof her material form had survived or, for that matter, had ever existed.
Acadia remembered her father and Risto spending time together here on this island alone shortly after the conversation she’d overheard. Had Risto known about this cave, this chamber? The goddess was supposed to offer her fertility, happiness, and longevity. Risto had taken many trips to this island alone in recent times. Had he come here to pray, particularly once the whispers had started that the woman he had loved carried another man’s child?
“Should we take her with us when we leave?” she asked.
With a grunt, Leandros led her to the cushioned booth. “I only know that you should sleep while the baby sleeps.”
After he’d laid a pillow on a low plateau, Acadia settled her sleeping nephew down carefully.
“Rest,” he said.
“If you’ll rest with me.”
“There’s no time—”
“A few moments.” Her throat swelled. “I need you to hold me. You need me to hold you, too.”
When she cupped his bristled jaw, his shoulders slumped as if the tension that had charged him these past hours had suddenly seeped to his feet. He brought her palm to his mouth and kissed her there with a tenderness that left her aching.
“I suppose…” he said. “A moment then.”
While the baby slept a few feet from their heads, she and Leandros curled up together on the cushions. With one arm curled around her head, he stroked her hair and nuzzled her brow until she couldn’t help but believe everything would be all right.
“I haven’t been able to keep from my mind,” he murmured, “that last night we spent together.”
“In our bay.” Sighing, she lifted her lips and took her time tasting his. “I’ve never been so happy.”
His fingers twining through her hair, his mouth dropped over hers, and as the kiss deepened, longing swelled until she burned for him with her body and soul. Her touch traced his hot muscles as she arched into his hard length. When she reached beneath his shirt, fanning fingers over his chest, his throat rumbled and lips dragged away.
“I want nothing more from this world than to be with you,” he said.
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “Kiss me again. Don’t leave me yet.”
But when her mouth grazed his, his hand on her shoulder held her firm. “We’ll be married. Soon there’ll be no need for shadows.” Their foreheads touched. “One day soon, you’ll be my wife.”
“Dear love,” she found his hand and pressed it to her heart “let me be your wife tonight.”
When Acadia opened her eyes sometime later, it took a moment to grasp where she was.
The space around her rippled with flickering shadows, her body was free of clothes, and Leandros stood nearby with his back to her, his shoulders locked, and his fists balled at his sides. She pushed up on an elbow. She remembered now. They were holed-up in a cave on the second island.
She looked across. The baby was awake too, but quiet, as if he were listening. On the far wall, nestled among the shadows, the fi
gurine seemed to smile over at them all. Then Acadia recalled the riot, the confusion, and the pain, and her stomach plunged as if she’d just jumped off the balcony, too.
How long had they slept? And Leandros was so still.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
He held up a hand, a signal to hush, and her stomach lurched again. As a royal princess, she was used to getting answers, and she needed one now because that feeling of falling, of deepest dread, filled her so fast she thought she might drown.
She snatched up her dress, punched her arms through the sleeves, and then she pulled on her undergarment, the item Leandros had slid off when she’d persuaded him to hold her as closely as he could. In those few moments when they’d made love, she’d never known a greater joy, a stronger connection. Their joining only proved they were meant to be together. The bond—the love—was too powerful to deny.
A seed of a thought began to bloom. Her gaze shot over to the fertility figurine at the same instant her hand went to her belly. But this wasn’t the time to wonder about legends or consequences. Clearly Leandros was worried. Perhaps he’d heard something. A rat or flapping bat?
Acadia fitted her shoes, chastising herself. She shouldn’t have asked him to stay. Yet in her heart she couldn’t regret it. She hoped he didn’t either, even if he was wary now.
A sound—the distant falling of pebbles—filtered toward them, and Acadia stiffened. A shiver raced up her spine. Carefully she reached for the baby, standing as she drew him in near to her breast. He was soaked through and no doubt hungry. This moment she couldn’t help him with either. Her gaze glued to the shadows beyond the chamber entrance, she shushed against his little ear.
“Stay quiet, dear heart. Be good a little longer.”
The sound of scuffling pebbles came again, then the echo of a weight splashing into a puddle. Her heartbeat thudding now, Acadia edged back. Not rats. Others had discovered this cave. Whoever it was, they might make different turns, may not even reach them in here at all—but then the baby whimpered and the noise reverberated as loudly as the rumble of thunder. At least it seemed that way to her ears.