VALIANT REIGN (The Royals Book 3)

by Brooke Sivendra

Asher pulled back, leaning in his chair, a sly smirk on his lips.

  “What?” Abi asked.

  His eyes sparkled. “I just had the craziest idea.”

  Abi’s eyes darted around like she expected his source of inspiration to jump out from behind him.

  “Care to elaborate?” she asked, barely able to contain her smile—Asher’s was contagious.

  “I know exactly how to handle this,” he said, his eyes far away but his words energized.

  “Asher, communicate,” Abi said gently, growing impatient.

  Asher returned his attention to her. “I’m going to release the tape—on my terms.”

  Abi’s mouth fell open. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know what’s on the rest of the recording?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Asher said, shaking his head. “The context is what matters. And if I explain it first, I get the chance to put the context in Santina’s mind. Where’s James?” he asked, his eyes landing on the door.

  Asher picked up the phone. “Can you come in? . . . Thanks.”

  A moment later, James Thomas strode in with his signature swagger. “At your service,” he said with a grin.

  Abi looked between them, amazed at how relaxed two men in positions of such responsibility could be.

  “I want to make a speech regarding the context of the tape of Abi. I’m going to handle this on my terms—not theirs,” Asher said.

  James looked ahead, his eyes thoughtful. A moment later, a spark lit in them and the corner of the lips turned up. “You’re going to bring in the case we talked about, aren’t you?”

  “It’s the perfect storm,” Asher said with a tight smile.

  Abi looked between them. “Can someone please fill me in?”

  James looked to Asher, Asher shrugged. “It’ll be better if you wait and see.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “This concerns me and my reputation, so I’d rather not wait and see.”

  Asher gave a reluctant sigh. “There’s a case I asked James and Samuel to look into—a serious human-rights violation case. Accusations were made against the Adani royals but no one could ever find the evidence to link them to the crimes.” He grinned. “Not until Samuel and his sidekicks came along.”

  “What were they accused of?” Abi asked, trying to recall all the major cases that had received publicity over the years. She could only think of one major case that had almost destroyed them.

  Her jaw dropped and Asher nodded. “Correct.”

  “Asher,” Abi said, her voice choking, “you better make damn sure you have enough evidence to accuse them of poisoning the poor people’s water supply.”

  “You won’t believe what Samuel found—”

  Asher’s phone rang before he could finish the sentence. Abi was unconsciously leaning in, her heart palpating with anticipation.

  “King Asher,” he answered.

  Asher’s face tightened as he listened to the person on the other end of the line.

  James’s eyes narrowed and focused on the desk like he was concentrating hard. Could he hear the conversation?

  Abi looked to his ear but knew she wouldn’t be able to see his earpiece even if he was wearing one.

  Her attention was drawn back to Asher when he said, “That will be your biggest mistake,” and hung up the phone.

  Asher looked to James. “Set up the speech. I’ll do it from the balcony.”

  James nodded and left without a word.

  Abi looked to Asher expectantly.

  He sighed heavily. “That was one of King Khalil’s officials advising they will be moving forward with the takeover of the Lithe Ruins—Alistair’s deal.”

  Abi chewed on her cheek. “This is a war, Asher, however you look at it.”

  “And I’m ready to fight,” he said, his eyes locked on hers.

  Abi searched his eyes, but she saw no hesitation. She nodded and said, “And I’ll fight beside you.”

  She leaned in and kissed his forehead, letting her lips linger a second longer. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

  “I’ll leave you to concentrate and work on your speech,” she said.

  Abi walked toward the door, feeling Asher’s eyes on hers. A nervousness bubbled in her chest. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in Asher, or that she questioned what Samuel had found, but she knew there would be no going back after making a claim like the one Asher was going to make. This revelation would change the world, and it would change Santina forever.

  She pressed her lips together as a question popped into her mind. Why had Asher asked Samuel to look into this virus specifically? She wondered if King Martin had thought them guilty but didn’t have the evidence to back up such a claim. Or did he?

  Her mind spun with questions she would never be able to answer. But maybe this long-thought-out planned revolt was about more than just power—perhaps it was about covering their dirty secrets. And if Asher exposed them, he would amplify the target on his back. If Adani secrets were exposed, they could still kill Asher as punishment; from what she knew about the Adani royals and their government officials, they were capable of every horrifying deed imaginable.

  Abi was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear her name being called, until it was clear from the tone that it wasn’t the first time it had been yelled out.

  And it took her a moment to realize who the voice belonged to.

  She turned, surprised to face Alistair.

  “Hi. I’m sorry, I was distracted by something,” Abi said, watching Alistair carefully. Security stood beside her and she stole a sideways glance. They appeared relaxed.

  Alistair didn’t miss the sideways glance.

  He sighed. “Can we talk for a few minutes—privately?”

  “Uh . . .” Abi started, faltering. She was grateful when security spoke on her behalf.

  “King Asher’s order is for Abi to be watched at all times. The King and Rachel are the only two people she can see unsupervised.”

  A flicker of something passed through Alistair’s eyes so quickly Abi wondered if she’d imagined it.

  “Fine, can we talk with your security team?” he asked, mockingly.

  “Sure,” Abi said, despite it being the last thing she wanted to do.

  Alistair eyed her a moment and then motioned to the door nearest them. Abi realized she’d never been inside that room—she’d never noticed it being there.

  She looked to security again, two of whom entered first. Abi assumed they were scoping the room because when they emerged they nodded and motioned for her to enter.

  When Abi walked in, she realized it was a large room with two desks. One was a mess with piles of paper and a dirty cup by the computer. The other was meticulously clean—everything in order so much so that it looked like it belonged in a display home.

  Alistair sat on the edge of the messy desk. In that moment, his posture, even his eyes, looked like Asher.

  “Asher and I swapped desks,” he said, his voice dry. “This was his office . . . he shared it with Noah,” he said, gesturing toward the clean desk.

  Abi smiled sadly—now it made sense. She looked over the desk again, trying to imagine Noah there, chatting and laughing with Asher.

  All but two security guards left the room. The two that remained stood back, against the walls. Their posture was rigid, like they were ready to pounce.

  Abi just wanted to run from the room altogether.

  “So . . .” Abi started, turning over her hands.

  Alistair drew a long breath and exhaled heavily. “Look, I just want to apologize. I don’t have anything against you in particular, it’s just . . .” His voice trailed off and he looked uncomfortable as he searched for the right words. “There’s a long history of rivalry between Asher and me that complicates our relationship . . . and therefore my attitude toward you.”

  Abi raised her eyebrow at his choice of word. Rivalry. She wasn’t sure Asher thought there had ever been rivalry on his behalf, but she wasn’t going to speak f
or him. She just wanted this over with.

  “Thank you,” she said cautiously.

  He nodded. She noticed he couldn’t meet her eyes, but she didn’t know what to make of that. Was he lying? Or was he just having a hard time apologizing?

  “Why now?” Abi asked, her curiosity winning the war over getting out of the office.

  Alistair’s eyes widened slightly, indicating he was surprised. “Because I owe Asher more than I can ever repay him. So, if that means supporting his relationship with you, then that’s what I need to do.”

  Abi looked at him like he’d grown two heads. Who was this version of Alistair?

  “How many siblings do you have?” Alistair asked.

  “Three sisters,” Abi responded, unsure where he was going with this.

  “Are you the most successful of them?” Alistair asked.

  “Um . . .” Abi said, unsure how to answer that. “We all took very different paths, I really don’t think you could compare us.”

  Alistair gave an odd smile. “You’re lucky then, and because of that I can’t expect you to understand. But growing up, and even now, everyone—our parents, the media, our enemies—compared Asher and me.” He looked at his feet and seemed to struggle with his words. “I have felt like a failure my entire life,” he said, still looking down. “That’s why I did what I did and took the drugs—I wanted to numb the pain, the embarrassment. But in reality what I was doing was just securing my fate as a fuckup.”

  Abi stood there awkwardly—she didn’t know how to respond. “Well I know for sure there are people who believe in you. People make mistakes, Alistair, but that doesn’t mean there’s no hope for the future.”

  He chuckled and Abi couldn’t tell if it was he was embarrassed or mocking her.

  “You two are going to be a match made in heaven,” he said like he couldn’t believe it. He gave a slight shake of his head. “Anyway,” he said, his voice clearer, “I just wanted to apologize and let you know I don’t have a problem with you, and I’m not going to hurt you or anyone in this palace. I have a temper, but I just like to yell and shout at people. I don’t kill.”

  Abi raised an eyebrow. “I never thought you did,” she said, but not for the reasons she wanted him to believe. At one point she thought he might’ve been the mastermind behind her abduction, but never did she actually think he did the dirty work himself.

  He looked at her, blinking, like he was stunned.

  “I need to get going. I have a few phone calls to make,” Abi said quickly.

  “Sure,” Alistair said, his face impassive once more.

  Abi nodded, then began to walk toward the door.

  “Abi, I have something for you . . . think of it as a welcome gift,” he said before pulling out an abstract painting of Santina. Abi knew the artist—she’d even looked at the painting in an exhibition.

  “Alistair, I can’t take this,” Abi said, her eyes going wide. “It’s an incredible painting and very expensive.”

  Alistair gave a lopsided grin. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said with a laugh, and Abi felt a twinge of amusement considering they were being constantly watched, “but I bought it one night on a bender. I could never find quite the right place for it and then I learned you’d set up an office. I know the room, and this would be perfect.” His smile faltered. “Please, take it. Every time I look at it, it brings back memories I’d rather forget. But that’s my own doing.”

  Abi weighed her options and decided to accept the gift. “Thank you, I really appreciate it,” she said, and meant it. “It’s an incredible piece.”

  Alistair gave a smile as he handed over the painting. Abi didn’t know if he was happy or sad.

  Maybe he was both.

  Asher

  Asher looked at the telephone, wondering if this was the hardest call he’d ever have to make. He prayed it was, because he couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  Asher’s eyes darted to the crystal clock. He’d been procrastinating for the last half hour. If he didn’t pick up the phone now, he’d run out of time—and there was no way he’d be able to make this speech without making this call first.

  He exhaled a sigh that sounded like a groan and picked up the telephone.

  His uncle answered on the first ring. “Hello.”

  “Uncle, this is Asher,” he said.

  “Asher? Hi,” he responded casually. “How are you?”

  “Not good, I’m afraid. I need to tell you something, and I want to tell you in advance that I’m sorry. Are you home? Is Aunty there with you?” Asher asked.

  “Yes we’re home; I’m sitting at my desk. Is it your mother? Is she okay?” he asked, firing off the questions.

  “She’s fine . . . I’m calling about Troy,” Asher said.

  There was a pause before he spoke. “Is he there with you? We’ve been trying to reach him for the past few days.”

  “Yes, he’s here. In the cells,” Asher said.

  “In the cells? What are you talking about?” The tone of his voice turned dark in seconds.

  “Troy has been implicated in my father’s murder and in the murder of Noah,” Asher said gently.

  “What? Asher, this is ridiculous! We’re talking about your friend—your cousin—your own blood!”

  Asher straightened, physically bracing himself. “He did not care that my father was his own blood when he orchestrated his murder. He has been posturing under an alias, Martin Snider, who is responsible for the deaths and leading a revolt—”

  “He is not Martin Snider! How can you accuse him of this?” his uncle’s voice boomed through the line.

  “He has admitted his involvement,” Asher said defensively. He hadn’t even told him the worst news yet.

  “No, he’s told you what you wanted to hear so that you didn’t hurt him—because I know your security team, Asher, and I know exactly what they’re capable of and how they operate.”

  “Uncle, I know this is hard, and I know he’s your son, but he murdered the king and Noah. This can’t go unpunished,” Asher said, keeping his voice calm and unwavering.

  A long pause followed.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked, a violent tone to his voice.

  Asher squeezed his eyes shut. “He will be executed. I wanted to give you the courtesy of finding out from me, rather than from the media.”

  The pause that followed was so long, Asher thought the call had been disconnected.

  “You’re making a huge mistake,” he eventually said.

  “I wish that were true. I wish it was all a misunderstanding, but it’s not,” Asher said quietly.

  “If you’re wrong, Asher, can you live with the fact that you killed an innocent man? Your cousin, no less?”

  “I will do what needs to be done. Being a blood relative doesn’t mean you get away with murder. If it were anyone else, I would execute them too. Troy doesn’t get to escape that because of who he is,” Asher said, his voice rising, not backing down.

  “We will not forgive you for this,” his uncle said ominously before hanging up.

  Asher stared at his desk as he listened to the beeping in his ear.

  Finally he hung up the phone and rested his face in his hands.

  What else had he expected? Troy was his son, and there was nothing Asher could have said to make that news any better.

  Asher shook his head, groaning. He didn’t look up when his door opened, but he knew it was James.

  “Interesting response,” Asher said. “He didn’t ask who Martin Snider was, and he seemed more composed than I would’ve expected for a father just learning his son is to be executed.”

  James nodded. “He also said they’ve been trying to reach Troy, yet there’s no phone calls to Troy’s mobile from any of the numbers—cell phones or landlines. Samuel just checked.”

  He blew out a long breath as he tipped his head back, trying to think through the pressure that seemed to be weighing on him more heavily each day.

  “You don�
��t need to give the name today,” James said, surprising him. “Just say that the king’s killer will be executed in two days’ time.”

  Asher shook his head. “If I don’t say the name, they’ll think I’m hiding something and we don’t really know for sure.” Asher groaned. “This is a fucking mess!” he said, standing and grabbing his notes. He didn’t have time to deal with this right now—Santina was waiting for him.

  James and Asher walked side by side with a security team behind them.

  The curtains were drawn across the window of the balcony. As they approached, the curtains opened and Asher stepped forward before he gave himself a chance to hesitate.

  He looked over the crowd—one far larger than he’d expected given the short notice. He looked at their individual faces—the faces of the people he had to protect. He could only do that with his enemies eliminated.

  “Santina,” Asher started and the crowd cheered. “Today is an important day. Today is the day we stand up for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.”

  A hushed murmur flowed through the crowd like a wave in the ocean.

  “Recently I received a voice recording—one taken while Abi was in captivity, while she was drugged and under unfathomable stress. This recording was not given to me as a gift, it was given to me with a blackmail threat.

  “It is no secret that for many years—until she was taken hostage—Abi was the leader of the International Female Rescue Team: a team known for their daring rescues, for going to places where other rescue teams wouldn’t dare,” he said, raising a cheer, if a short-lived one, from the audience.

  “Unfortunately, on missions like those, there is the risk of casualties in order to retrieve the hostages—the innocent women and children taken from their villages who are violently raped and abused multiple times each day, every day.

  “This voice recording discusses one of these missions, and in the context of the recording, it would be easy to forget the perilous dangers to the IFRT staff and the hostages they are rescuing. If someone came into your home and attacked you, would you hesitate to kill them to rescue your family?”

  The crowd was silent, but Asher saw a few nodding heads.