The Goddess

by Robyn Grady

  Drawing an arm around her shoulders, he held the torch high as he propelled Acacia forward and said, “We need to move, my love. And move fast.”

  …

  As they rushed down the tunnel toward freedom, Acacia held the baby snug to her chest. She’d prayed for a miracle this night, and the gods had listened. When she’d seen the torchlight weaving toward them, she’d thought their safe route out of the palace had been compromised. Hearing Leandros’s voice drifting out from the dark had sounded like a song from a beautiful dream. But how had he known about this tunnel?

  Who else knew of the exit in the orchard?

  Twice rats darted out, tripping them up. The second time she almost fell.

  “Not much farther,” he said, and Acacia wondered if Leandros had a plan beyond emerging from the tunnel. The notion that members of tonight’s mob waited there with guns cocked swam in her mind, but Acacia pushed the thought aside. Together they would find a way. She and Leandros would share a life and live to raise children of their own. Fate could be cruel, but it could also be kind. It had brought Leandros to her, after all.

  At last the tunnel came to an end. Leandros eased the crude door open, and clamor from the faraway din seeped in. Acacia bit her lip. Striking artwork, priceless treasures, the china doll she’d kept from so long ago, a present from her mother… Her home was being destroyed, and there was nothing she could do to save it. The palace’s Chief Aide would be devastated when he returned from his trip and saw the destruction. Then again, the mob would likely lynch him before he had time to leave his ship.

  Night was fast closing in. The pungent smell of smoke and ash hovered in the air. Leandros sealed the entrance, and any sign of a doorway magically disappeared.

  “The trees here are thick,” he said. “We’ll be hidden until we reach the bay. When I saw the unrest as I sailed in, I didn’t berth at the docks.”

  Leandros shepherded her on.

  When they reached the edge of the orchard, Acacia still felt dazed. She seemed to be moving in a dream…in a nightmare. Leandros snuffed the torch, darted a look around, and then urged her on.

  “A little farther.” He scooped the baby from her arms. “The bay’s just around this hill.”

  Acacia thought of Leandros’s boat and of leaving her home behind forever, never to return. The idea saddened her beyond belief, but near everyone she’d truly cared about now was gone. The smoke and crackle of those fires still felt much too close.

  When they rounded the bend, Acacia pulled up sharply. She felt the shock as surely as if a fist had busted her windpipe while her heart dried up in her chest. Out on the water, their ship waited, engulfed by flames and about to sink along with their hope.

  Helene was wrenched out of that world. She couldn’t believe it. That was the last page?

  Blindsided, she handed it over to Tahlia, who sliced through the words in a minute then stared at Helene, flummoxed.

  “This isn’t the end.” Tahlia looked around. “There’s more.”

  Helene slumped. “Not where I found this. We’ll never find out what happened.”

  “From what I know about that time in our history…” Tahlia bit her lip.

  Helene frowned, waited. “What do you know?”

  “There was a Princess Acacia, but she died. Or it’s presumed that she did. No one found her remains, but there was so much destruction that night.”

  Helene pondered the possibilities. Acacia sounded so brave and resilient. And Leandros was there, guiding and protecting her. He would have made sure they survived.

  “If I wrote the end of this story, I’d make sure they escaped,” Helene said.

  “They might have been ambushed.”

  “Hey, I thought you liked happy endings.”

  “More than anything, I want to believe in them.”

  Helene came back to the here and now. To the “Tahlia in love with Otis” present. Her heart went out to her new friend.

  “You should believe in happy endings,” Helene said softly.

  “Sometimes it’s hard to. I love my life here. Unfortunately, Darius wants me to be a carbon copy of what he thinks I should be. But I have my own mind. My own heart. If he doesn’t like Otis, that won’t change how I feel.”

  “Darius does like Otis.” He’d told her so. “He thinks he’s a hardworking, respectful boy.”

  “Boy?” Tahlia huffed. “Darius would call him that. Otis is twenty-one. A man. A good man.” The irritation in her eyes faded into longing. “He loves me and I love him.”

  Helene wanted to gather Tahlia close and hug her like her own mother had done many years ago whenever she’d felt sad. But she wasn’t Tahlia’s parent. Darius was her legal guardian; or he had been until her eighteenth birthday.

  “Your brother’s only trying to do the best for you,” she said gently. “He wants you to finish your education.”

  “Darius is a good brother. But I don’t need his permission for anything anymore.” Her determined gaze found the window. “He can’t do anything if I live my life the way I choose.”

  Tahlia’s words were passionate, but her tone was composed. She’d given this a lot of thought. And she was an adult. Helene understood Darius wanting his sister to attend college, but he couldn’t force her.

  Tahlia wrenched her gaze away from the window. “What do you want to do with your life, Helene?”

  “I’m going to be a teacher.”

  “When I was very young, I wanted to be a ballerina and dance on pointe. At twelve, I was going to be a journalist, the kind who reports on only the most important stories. I remember telling Darius. He was so disgusted he stomped away. He has no time for the media. Neither did my father. Lately, though, I think more and more about being with Otis. About…” She bowed her head and gazed at her left hand. “About being a wife.”

  Helene took Tahlia’s hand. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “Because you’re in love?”

  Helene blinked. Did she mean with Darius? Her cheeks flushed with heat. “I’ve only known your brother a week.”

  “Love can bite at first sight.”

  Helene didn’t know how to respond. She’d been entranced by Darius when they’d first met, certainly. Who wouldn’t be? But that wasn’t love.

  “And he’s smart,” Tahlia was saying. “Out of the three of us, Darius is the true scholar. Sometimes I even try to tell myself that he does know best. That I should go back to my studies.” Her eyes pleaded with Helene’s. “But everything aches when two people long to be together. I’m tired of sneaking out to see Otis simply because Darius doesn’t approve. I can’t imagine how it makes Otis feel. He never says a word against my brother, but I know he wishes Darius wasn’t so old-fashioned.”

  Helene sent a comforting look. “He wants to protect you.”

  “He makes me want to run away and never come back.”

  “I felt that way once.”

  Tahlia’s let out that pent up breath. “You did?”

  “But, believe me. Your brother is only caring for you the best way he knows how.” The same way Helene’s mother had tried to show that she’d cared with all her lectures and groundings.

  Tahlia seemed to consider her advice before her focus shifted to the pages on her lap.

  “I can’t bear not knowing what happened to those two.”

  “Suppose we’ll never know, unless…” Helene leaned closer. “Do you think the rest of the story could be hidden somewhere else in the villa?”

  “No.” Tahlia slowly grinned. “I think it might be somewhere else entirely.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tahlia suggested to Helene that the rest of Leandros and Acacia’s story could be hidden somewhere in the palace. The author might be the nurse who had stayed behind with the slain king. Maybe the help’s quarters was a likely place to look. Unfortunately, those rooms were extensive and largely occupied.

  Still, she and Tahlia vowed to meet again to dig around and, happy ending or not
, see if more pages could be found.

  However, this afternoon Helene needed to visit Alexio. More and more it seemed right that when her time here was up, her backpacking adventure should come to an end, too. She’d return home a different person. More confident, for one.

  She admitted to herself that butterflies fluttered whenever she thought about whether she’d conceived. On one hand, she wanted these last days with her prince to last. On the other, she’d be relieved when she was certain, one way or another.

  To save on pollution and noise, motorized vehicles weren’t permitted on the island. She could have jumped on a bicycle, or asked for a carriage. Instead she thanked the guard who opened a side gate, and she headed out from the palace grounds on foot.

  Along the walk down, she enjoyed the smells and colors of summer. A group of women appeared around a graveled corner—wives and mothers she had seen about before. One offered an orange from her basket. Inhaling the citrus scent, Helene thanked her and, nattering, the women carried on their way.

  After winding through several cobblestone streets lined with planters filled by lavender and clouds of orange geraniums, she reached Alexio’s taverna. Inside she found her friend wearing his trademark apron while he hand-dried glasses by the bar. When he noticed her, Alexio’s broad face broke into a smile. He took a step and then, as if someone had whispered a warning in his ear, he hesitated.

  “Helene.” He re-pinned his smile, set down the glass, and wiped his palms down his apron.

  “You got my text?” She hoped he hadn’t been worried about her.

  He nodded deeply. “I was going to call you today.”

  “Yanni Kostas from the palace… He told you what happened?”

  “Yes, yes. The prince went to the island early and offered you a job. And now you’re staying at the palace.”

  “Just for a couple of weeks.”

  Had Alexio assumed she’d been asked to stay as help or a guest? She thought it better not to ask.

  “I’ve decided to leave Tierenias after that. I know that’s probably left you short on staff…”

  “Actually, I put on someone last week, a backpacker like you from the States.”

  She blinked several times before finding a supportive response. “That’s great.”

  He caught something behind the counter. When he moved out, he wheeled her cabin-sized luggage toward her. “Gia packed your things. It’s all in there, as well as payment for the work you did for me on the island.”

  Helene took the handle with her thoughts stuck in a rut. She’d been replaced already? Given that Alexio knew her situation, it made sense he’d be one step ahead. But actually saying good-bye after all the good times she’d had in this room seemed like a dream.

  “Maybe you’d like to see the grandbaby sometime,” Alexio was saying.

  She nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll let Gia know.” He tossed a look toward the kitchen. “I have to start lunch. Herete,” he said, giving her a hug. Be happy.

  Dazed, Helene moved out into the street. Behind the ironwork enclosing the courtyard, a woman was wiping tables. The same woman who’d taken pictures of the prince yesterday when they’d arrived in port—her replacement.

  As if sensing she was being watched, the woman looked up. Their eyes met and at the same time, Helene heard her name called. At the sound of that deep confident voice, she glanced over. Darius stood a few steps away.

  He flipped his sunglasses back on his head. “I thought I’d join you.” Shielding his eyes, he studied the taverna’s front while Helene noticed Alexio’s newly hired help taking even more of an interest.

  “But you had work to do,” she said.

  “I gave myself the rest of the day off. I’ve eaten here,” he went on. “Friendly. Good food.” He glanced at his watch. “Perhaps we could enjoy a coffee. It’s too early for lunch.” He took in her orange. “Are you hungry?”

  “A gift.”

  Giving the woman a final glance—remembering that had been her a little over a week ago—Helene returned her attention to Darius.

  “I’d rather walk for a while,” she said.

  “With a suitcase?”

  “It has wheels.”

  Looking over a shoulder, he raised his hand. Two well-dressed men appeared out of nowhere.

  “Take this to the palace,” he said, appropriating the handle before addressing the second man. “I won’t need either of you again today.” He tossed over Helene’s orange. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  As both men turned on their heels, Darius dropped the sunglasses back on his nose and looped a strong arm through hers.

  “Do you always have a detail when you leave the palace?” she asked, an eye on the men as they strode away.

  “Mostly.”

  “Must be intrusive.”

  “I’m used to it.” He tugged her closer and nuzzled her hair. “Although I am beginning to have withdrawals without the alone time we had on that island.”

  “We could go back for a couple of days.” She remembered. “Then again, we do have the night in Paris coming up.”

  “Actually, I heard from my friend,” he said. “Paris is off. So is his engagement. Seems they weren’t as well suited as he’d thought.”

  They continued to stroll past people who occasionally stopped for a better look. But Helene was too preoccupied to care who recognized Darius or who wanted to guess who he was with. Darius had said his friend and now ex-fiancée hadn’t known each other long. Had they unearthed some glaring differences in their life goals? Had some past indiscretion caught up?

  She’d wondered if an unexpected pregnancy might have contributed to the rushed announcement. Miscarriages were more likely to occur in the first trimester. Losing a baby, no matter how far along, would surely shake someone up.

  A prickly feeling ran over her scalp and down her spine. When she stiffened and her hand automatically went to her belly, Darius glanced at her. Atop those glasses, lines formed between his brows. His palm covered hers.

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  Helene sucked in a breath. With his warm hand covering hers, it was easy to shake off the bad feeling.

  “I’m fine.” She lifted her face to the sky. “Enjoying the sunshine. It’s been such great weather. It has to rain sometime.”

  “There’s a bench farther up. Or we could sit here under a tree.”

  “I don’t need to sit.”

  His jaw shifted. “Why don’t we sit anyway?”

  They ambled around to a cove where a boy was learning to toss a net into the sea. Stopping by a shaded bench, Darius waited for her to sit down before he joined her.

  “How are you feeling now?”

  She pretended to laugh. “Why do you keep asking that?” She guessed she already knew.

  He pushed his glasses back over his head and, squinting at the fisherman instructing his boy, scratched his temple.

  “Tahlia dropped by my office,” he said. “She enjoyed our dinner together. She wanted to know if we could do it again—with Otis making up a foursome.”

  Tahlia had pointed out that she could leave here whenever she wanted. She didn’t need her brother’s endorsement. Helene was glad she was still trying to reach out to Darius rather than focusing on a more drastic route. Tahlia was young, but also mature for her age. Darius needed to loosen his reins or risk cutting her off.

  “What did you say to her?” she asked.

  “I said now wasn’t the right time. I have…other things on my mind.”

  Like the coronation? About whether he should agree to let his uncle come?

  Intuition said he was fishing for a progress report on her “condition.” Unfortunately, she had no news to offer. Her cycle should start again next week, and then neither of them would have to think any more on the matter.

  But what if she had conceived? She would never wish anything bad upon a pregnancy. And if she were pregnant…if she went full term and had a ba
by…

  Would Darius propose? She couldn’t imagine it, particularly with the way he felt about his father’s legacy: he needed to choose his bride carefully. His uncle’s decision had caused an uproar because the woman he wanted to marry was accused of defrauding the throne. No one could accuse Helene Masters of doing anything illegal or underhanded.

  Unless his subjects learned about her unintended presence on the island. Or she was indeed pregnant and was accused of purposely trapping the prince. She might not be physically lynched but the media would have fun slinging fabricated mud, which wouldn’t ingratiate her to the public. She shuddered to think of Darius’s reaction.

  As a cold sweat broke on her brow, his arm wound around her back, urging her closer. She laid a cheek on his shoulder.

  “You aren’t feeling well,” he said.

  She wanted to insist again that she was fine, but, truth was, she needed a glass of cold water and to stop thinking about long-bet possibilities.

  When he pulled out his cell, Helene gathered herself.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Organizing a carriage.”

  She put her hand over the phone. “I’ve just had too much sun.” She didn’t want to return to the palace just yet.

  He examined her face before giving in. “We’ll sit here for a while, and then I’ll take you home.”

  After a few minutes, the blood returned to her head. So did common sense. She needed to focus on the now. On enjoying this time with Darius.

  Earlier he’d mention having coffee at Alexio’s. Lunch wasn’t far off.

  “Maybe we could go back to the taverna?”

  He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, and she wondered if he was gauging her temperature. Then he stood and helped her out of her seat.

  When they entered the taverna Alexio instantly recognized Darius. His eyes widened. A big smile followed.

  “Good afternoon, Your Highness.” Alexio bowed.

  They were the day’s first lunch patrons. With an approving eye, Darius examined the taverna’s old wooden beams and flagstone floor.