“Can you believe Damon is unmarried still despite the best efforts of my daughters-in-law! At thirty-one, Damon, really!” Anna huffed lightly, moving the big pot into the middle of the table before serving a large steaming portion into the bowl in front of Tia.
“And as I told you, Anna, I need to get my racers ready,” Damon cut in, and from his exasperated tone, Tia could believe it was an argument that, like she and her father’s, had been played out many times before.
“Horses. That is all he cares about. Horses! Though from your bits and pieces knowledge, I am guessing you know horses too.”
The herbs from the stew danced along her tongue, and she swallowed hurriedly as she found herself the recipient of Anna’s eagle-eye stare.
“Just some things—”
“Things that impressed Mr. Kavilas,” Damon cut in again, stirring his spoon around and around methodically in his own bowl like he was trying to figure out a problem that he could not put his finger on.
“Well, it was good he was able to come and see to the foal!” Anna exclaimed, leaning across and relieving Tia of a sleepy Alex, and Tia pushed back the notion that she actually missed him. He was not hers to miss, and it was probably all the drama over the past two days that made her extra sensitive and emotional. Probably.
“I told you it was not the royals,” Anna carried on, and Tia’s stomach dipped at the mention of her family once again.
“Are you . . . I mean, do you like the royal family, Anna?” Tia forced the words out. This was her plan, so why was she reluctant to suddenly carry it through?
“Oh yes. I used to follow their activities a lot. Now I watch them on the TV. That glamorous Queen Rosalind! I wish I had that kind of glamour, but a farm and five sons . . . ,” Her voice drifted into a sigh, and Tia smiled at the mention of her mother. Queen Rosalind, the archetypal fairy princess turned into a queen. Tia knew that she and her twin may have inherited her golden looks, but neither had inherited her dulcet personality. “You know Tia, you look a little like the princess now that I think about it. And despite what Damon says, a lot of people, his mother included, love the royals. It makes Kephelai just that little bit more special. The tradition behind the institution.”
“The tradition? Surely it’s the future of the monarchy that the people are interested in?” Tia rolled the word around her head. Tradition. That was the very opposite way she wanted to take this conversation.
“Yes. Tradition.” Anna carried on. “I know people bleat on about a republic but the way I think people really see the future is in the past. After all, a lot of our great laws aren’t new and why reinvent the wheel. Why not adapt it?”
“That’s what I said- sort of.” Damon cut in, closing his lips quickly at a sharp glance from Anna.
Why reinvent the wheel? The idea had merit? After all this, could there be some truth to what Anna was saying?
“But back to the Helios family, what kind people they seem to be.” Anna’s voice cut into her clouded thoughts.
“Are they kind? In front of the cameras maybe. But behind the glittering curtain, does anyone know the truth?”
Damon’s sharp words cut like a knife through her, and Tia winced at the harshness of them. The stew tasted like sawdust, and she ate it quickly as sharp retorts sprang to her lips in defence of her family. They were comments she knew could reveal who she was, and she could not let that happen. She already feared she had given away too much when Damon mentioned the Skipios honey land, which was on the land she had marked for redevelopment for her first step towards the modernisation programme.
She dropped her gaze to her bowl, letting Anna’s quick response to Damon wash over her. She had a job to do. This was part of that job.
If you don’t like the answer, ask a different question.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she should start asking different questions, such as why he was so anti royal.
Chapter 7
“Wow! I’m stuffed! And Anna still managed to pack leftovers.” Tia rubbed her hand over the formerly flat part of her body that was her stomach and leaned forward in the jeep’s seat, peering into the basket of endless containers at her feet. “There’s enough in there to feed an army.”
“Anna does like to feed people, but I didn’t expect her to prepare a full lunch. I was only going to buy some of her bread and honey, then leave.”
The open window of the jeep whipped some of his words into the wind, and she leaned closer to hear him. It was not the small talk she had prepared to lead with when enquiring about his anti royal sentiment, but it was better than the silence that had been reigning in the car since they left Anna’s house at least half an hour ago.
Tia smacked her lips together. “Her honey biscuits were exceptional.”
“You will probably find some in the basket. People around here are just happy to help out like that.”
Her ears pricked up at the grimace in his voice. People may be happy to help, but from his tone, he didn’t sound it was a quality he thought of highly.
“You do not sound like you approve.”
“People can do what they want, but those attitudes make them vulnerable. And poor.”
“Well, if I had some money, I would have bought some.” When she had her money, she corrected herself mentally, she would go back and buy some—for her and a packet for her sweet-toothed former nanny. “But then, from what you have said so far, I am not sure that you approve of people with money, either.”
Silence. Mm, maybe she hadn’t made it sound questioning enough. That, or he was thinking of a sharp retort that told her to mind her own business.
She would give him exactly fifteen seconds before she asked again, and this time, she would say the word “question mark” at the end if need be. She turned in her seat and twisted the window lever down, leaning out of the window and sucking in the air around her. It was cleaner, fresher than the air she had experienced around the palace, despite the AC, and her heart lifted at the sight of the grand mountains in front of her. Anna had really not been kidding when she had informed her it was a village in the mountains.
“Was that a question or an observation, Tia?”
Finally! A result. She smoothed the flyaway strands of her wig back down and twisted slowly back to him. “It was meant to be a question. A chance for you to explain why you are so anti—I am not sure. Royals, money? All of the above.”
“Explain? Am I defending myself against something here, and if I am, then don’t I have a right to know what it is?”
His eyes darkened to a stormy blue, and she sat up straighter in her seat. “There is no case here. I am simply asking, where does your attitude towards the royals come from? I am curious.”
“Are you always this insistent when you are curious about something?”
When it came to her family, then . . . “Yes.”
“Fine. In which case, I will tell you. I find it wrong that they present this image to the world of being perfect, with their titles and their money, and give ordinary folk an unrealistic picture. Folk like Anna should be allowed to get on with their own real lives instead of aspiring to one they will never achieve. And I dislike those people who promise this lifestyle to others, then take it away. These people present their picture perfect life in such a way that when ordinary folk aspire to it, they inevitably fall like Icarus and his wax wings, hurting themselves and others around them! There. Are you glad you asked a different question?” He stopped and exhaled heavily, dropping his chin lower.
No, she was not. Tia bit down hard on her lower lip and turned from him, focusing her eyes on the road ahead and on the trees that were tilting perilously thanks to the recent landslides.
No, she was not happy she had asked, but only because now the bite of reality was deeper than before and it hurt. He had answered more than he knew. He sounded—she could not quite put her finger on it—as if someone had done something to him. She had met the men and women in her brother’s racing world, and despite her statu
s, they had not held back their comments about others. Even at boarding school, she had encountered those who would use their family money to make others who were less fortunate feel their status.
What could she say? “I am sorry,” or “But that is not us!” How could she say that without truly revealing who she was? She could not say any of those things.
“That sounds horrible. But surely not everyone is like that,” she ventured quietly.
“No? If that is the majority, then why should I be bothered to meet the rest?”
“Because that is just wrong. And . . . prejudiced!” she said hurriedly, her thoughts and ideas building with the momentum of her words.
“Me? Prejudiced?”
She would have laughed at the comedic drop of his jaw if the situation were not so serious. “Yes, you heard me. I said prejudiced. You are being as bad as those people who are also rude and prejudiced, but you are going from the other end of the social scale. And both sides are wrong.” There. She had proved her point- sort of. Tia folded her arms in front of her and sat back against the seat.
“And I take it, from your deep knowledge, that you have met many people from all walks of life, Tia Liakos?” The sharp edge to his question stung, and she tilted her chin up.
“As it happens, yes, I have. I have travelled a fair bit around the island, and I studied in England where I met people from, as you put it, all walks of life. And good manners are good manners no matter who you are.” At least that was what her grandmother, the dowager queen, always used to say.
“What a lovely sentiment. Remind me, if I ever take up sewing, to embroider it into a pillow. So after your encounter with these titled individuals, were you left feeling positive or worthless?”
Alarm bells rang in her head, and she wiped her tongue across her suddenly dry lips, freezing as she caught his eyes following the motion before he swung his head back to the road. Her thoughts blew like dry leaves around her brain and her heart fluttered lightly in her chest. “They would never . . . I mean, no. They have never made me feel worthless.”
They had never been the problem for her. After Geo’s death, she found she was suddenly the favourite—more so than normal. Worthless. Even the word left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was never because of them. It was always about Geo.
• • •
His lips tingled from where he could imagine pressing them to hers, and Damon tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Why had he spewed out all his thoughts to her like that? Sure, he stood by them, but that was still no excuse. And now it had led to him almost, almost wanting to kiss her. If that wasn’t the biggest foolishness, then he didn’t know what was. At least now she could tell his father what he really thought of him and without having to pay a lawyer to do it.
He had thought at Anna’s that she may accidentally reveal something about her real reason for being on his land. Instead, he had learned that she was twenty-six, wasn’t married, and didn’t have any children.
The blood pulsed around his body faster than before at the knowledge, and he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Why did that matter? It shouldn’t. He was not interested in a woman as . . . argumentative as her. Yes, that was it. Argumentative. Besides, she had her plans to modernise the island, an island he thought was fine the way it was. He loved to ride; she didn’t. She thought people with titles were fine; he didn’t.
Thee mou, clearly this was cupid’s sense of humour! Why then did he feel his insides go like jelly when she smiled? Why did he notice her eyes light up when she was getting annoyed at him? Hell, he was starting to ask himself whether he wanted to annoy her just to see the unusual blue-green fire spark to life.
“Well aren’t you the lucky one.” He had meant to sound sarcastic. Instead, he had the horrible feeling he just sounded pitiful.
“Depends on your meaning of lucky. It was not luck that made me break down on your land, was it?”
Her words sent ice through his veins, and he held his breath. Would she tell him now? Now that she knew the name of the village they were going to? Phillipe did not know about this place. In fact, he had only told a handful of people, including Anna and Jason. “What was it then?”
“Bad driving on my part.”
Warmth spread through him, and his lips trembled as a bark of laughter came from nowhere. Her gentle chuckle filled the car, and he pushed his lips down to wipe the smile from his face. It had been too long since he laughed, since he had anything to laugh at—till now and her throwaway comment.
“Your car will be safe. It is probably already on its way to that address in Arios you gave me. A gift shop wasn’t it?”
Her fingers stilled their motion of rubbing across her nails. “Yes. Rosie’s Boutique and Gifts. That is the one.” Her head flicked up, her voice bright and chirpy, and his brows drew together in a frown. It seemed too chirpy.
“That is an interesting name. Rosie. Very, erm, English for a shop in Kephelai.” It was a very English name for a shop anywhere but England, period.
“Well Arios is becoming more modern and international by the minute, and you never know who you may meet there, so why not have a name like Rosie’s for a shop? Besides, the queen is called Rosalind, isn’t she?” He flicked his gaze to her fingers, which had begun their movements over her nails once again, in earnest this time.
“But she is English, isn’t she?”
“From one of the finest aristocratic families in the UK. Well that is what the Internet says at least. Don’t tell me you have a problem with the king being married to an English woman?” Her voice sounded harder and more determined than before, and he shook his head.
“People can marry who they like. Unlike some of my fellow countrymen, I do not have a problem with people from different countries getting married.” Besides, Phillipe is from Montcroix, not England, he added silently to himself.
“Good because I think that is how it should be too.”
Too? He bit back a smile and popped the silly fantasy bubble in his head that told him they had something in common. They didn’t. Besides, even if they did, it wasn’t their views on marriage. The only thing they had in common was his father, and Damon already knew his views on the sanctity of marriage. The thought made him scowl. “As long as they stay faithful.”
She puffed out a small breath and leaned forward, dropping her hands to the dashboard. “Of course they need to stay faithful. Why would they not? Faithlessness and the lies that go with it cause pain, and if you love someone, why would you want to cause him or her pain?”
“Which one is ‘her’? Do you mean the wife or the mistress?” His stomach churned at the memory of his mother’s deathbed confession. Of her pale lips as she whispered the name of his real father and where he would find the letters he wrote to her containing the promises he made. Also that she had finally written to him to let Phillipe know of Damon’s existence. His world had been blown wide open. It was a conversation he knew he would never forget. He hadn’t hoped to have a tearful father-son reunion, but he hadn’t expected the vitriolic letter that came barely a week after his mother’s funeral that denounced him.
“Erm, I guess the wife. I mean there would not be a mistress if the husband was faithful, right? But yes, ultimately both women would suffer. The wife because she doesn’t know or maybe has to live with the knowledge that her husband is being unfaithful, and the mistress because she knows the man in question could never truly be hers,” she said factually, as if any other concept was just bizarre.
Never truly hers. Three little words that sat like a rock in his stomach. Damon squirmed in his seat. Did his mother ever know that? He had read the letters, and he imagined they would have sounded persuasive to a young woman in her twenties who had not experienced much of the world. Hell, after Tia’s explanation from the wife’s point of view, he was almost beginning to feel sorry for Phillipe’s wife. Almost.
“I mean, you would not want to be the wife or the mistress of a man like that. That is
not the ideal man of fantasies, is it?” she added, though he couldn’t be sure if the muffled comment was for herself or him thanks to the way her chin and lips were buried in her cupped hands and her elbows were resting on her knees.
He could not see how in any universe a man like Phillipe would be any woman’s fantasy, let alone have two women who doted on him and God knew how many more, but . . . Tia had said the word “fantasy.”
Was that why she wasn’t married? Because she had not found this ideal man of fantasies?
He leaned his elbow out of the window, inhaling sharply. Maybe the fresh mountain air would clear these ridiculous thoughts from his brain. It wasn’t that he cared. He didn’t, but he was curious. That was all. It had nothing to do with finding out what made her face blush or her heart race. He had no interest in her whatsoever—what made her smile that shy smile she had given his horses when she thought no one was looking or how his name would sound on her lips just before he kissed her.
Damn. He hadn’t meant that last one. That wasn’t part of the discovery process. And if he were clever, he may be able to find out her real reason for crashing onto his land, which had nothing to do with bad driving.
• • •
Had he heard that last part? God, she hoped not. Tia rubbed her fingers over her mouth, wishing the words would come back and she could swallow them instead.
“Is it far to Tethys?” Geez, was that the best 180 or what? She mentally self-fived herself at her quick thinking. Isn’t that what animals did in the wild—swerved to get out of the predator’s way? “I am not sure if I have heard of it.” Not sure? Heck, she hadn’t, but she could not afford for his mind to wander back to that other topic she accidentally strayed into.
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