Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5

by Jennifer Chance

  She smiled faintly. He’d taken to calling her father by his first name rather than emphasizing the relationship between them, seeming to realize that it helped stiffen Edeena’s spine to think of her father as simply another man standing in her way instead of her flesh and blood relation—a relation who, under Garronois law, still had an unreasonable amount of power over her.

  “I don’t think so. He abhors anything that takes him away from his cronies at the club or his wife. She should be due to give birth any moment now.” Her brows went up. “I wonder if that’s why he’s pushing this so hard? Maybe he’s worried that the coming of the new baby will take up his time, and he won’t have time to shepherd me into marriage with some witless noble.”

  “I see your attitude about the coming social whirl hasn’t improved,” Vince said drily.

  “No, it has not.” Edeena collapsed back in her seat as the captain’s voice spoke over the loudspeaker again, sharing his instructions first in English, then in Garronois. She smiled to hear her native language spoken so rapidly—something else that had been strange about living in South Carolina. Everyone had talked in a soft, unhurried fashion, as if the words needed time to ripen to their full potential before they could be spoken aloud.

  “Either way, we’ll likely be met at the bottom of the stairs by a car,” Edeena said. “As nominal royalty, it’s considered more genteel for me to go through customs in a private venue versus with the rank and file.” She managed a grin in his direction. “As my security detail, you’ll be temporarily elevated above said rank and file.”

  “I’m honored,” Vince returned, but his smile was easy, and his studied good nature was having the desired effect on her mood. By the time they exited the plane into the warm, welcoming sunshine, she’d almost decided she could endure anything the day threw at her.

  Then she saw the limo waiting at the edge of the tarmac.

  “Oh, no,” she said, stopping for a moment before Vince bumped into her.

  “Crowd coming through,” he murmured and her feet started again of their own volition, while her attention remained arrested on the vehicle in the distance. They reached the bottom of the stair and Vince set down her carry-on, following her gaze.

  “Who are they?”

  “Well, I . . .”

  A small golf cart puttered up beside them, and a man jumped out from behind the wheel, speaking in rapid Garronois. “Countess Saleri, if you and your guest will come with me?”

  Vince looked at her hard when the man reached for her bag, but she nodded, and Vince obediently gave up the tote, watching darkly as she walked around the cart. “Please get in the back, Vince. I’m sorry, I didn’t expect this.”

  Vince’s gaze shot from her to the driver, but he didn’t ask questions, contenting himself with slinging his big body into the back seat of the cart. The driver whisked them away toward the enormous limo, and Edeena made up her mind. She didn’t want Vince to be caught off guard, no matter how high-handed her extended relatives were.

  “I’m very honored that we have been sent a car by Queen Catherine,” she said, turning to Vince. “Our bags will be picked up and transferred . . .” she glanced at the driver.

  “To the castle,” he said blithely, and Edeena winced. The castle! The queen must be serious about wanting to interrogate her before Silas got his crack at it.

  Vince’s voice floated forward, deadpan. “The castle,” he said mildly, in perhaps a stronger South Carolina drawl than he typically used. “How very nice.”

  Edeena pursed her lips, but the small burst of laughter billowing up within her went a far distance toward elevating her mood. She and Vince were ushered into the vehicle, and she relaxed further on realizing the queen herself was not sitting in the car, waiting for them. She was known to ambush people right on the tarmac if she felt she needed to.

  “Bugged?” Vince asked now, looking around the interior of the limo.

  She shrugged. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t be monitored the moment they entered the royal residence, but she hadn’t been going in and out of the castle since she was a tween without learning anything. There were always pockets where you could secure privacy, if you were careful. “Probably not,” she answered truthfully.

  “Then what do I need to know about this Queen Catherine? She’s related to Silas?”

  “Cousins, technically, through marriage, distant enough that there would have been no issue with me marrying Aristotle.” Edeena didn’t miss the subtle tensing of Vince’s jaw, and she rolled her eyes. “That was never going to happen, you should know. Neither one of us wanted it. The idea was way too close to an arranged marriage.”

  He glanced at her dubiously, and she pushed his shoulder. “What’s going on now is different. I need to do this.” Even as she said the words the knot of dismay tightened in her stomach. As much as she did need to do this, Edeena certainly wasn’t looking forward to the whirl of social requirements her father had laid out in his letter. Maybe the queen could help, but she doubted it. The edicts governing the behavior of the nobility predated Queen Catherine by hundreds of years.

  They pulled up to the castle a few short minutes later, and Edeena at least got to enjoy seeing the impressive building through a stranger’s eyes. Vince whistled low as they entered the outer gate then rolled forward into the lushly manicured courtyard. The primary residence of the royal family was a large stone edifice cut directly into the wall of a cliff, overlooking the whole of the capital city from its perch in the mountain. Though Vince couldn’t see the view from here, he certainly got the idea of where the castle was located as evidenced by the clear blue sky surrounding it.

  “Nice place,” he allowed, and she nodded. Then her eyes narrowed as she saw who was standing on the front stair.

  “Brace yourself,” she murmured. “The queen has come out to get the first look at the American.”

  Vince turned to peer through the windows, but there was only so much he could see now that they were nearly upon the stairs. “Do I, um, bow?” he asked, suddenly frowning. “Do you people bow? I didn’t really think about brushing up on my royal etiquette. I should have.”

  “You don’t bow,” Edeena said, watching as the queen started skipping lightly down the stairs, far too eager for a woman nearly thirty years her senior. “But you may be subjected to some seriously royal hugging.”

  Vince stepped out of the car in one easy motion, turning immediately to hand out Edeena—in part because it was the polite thing to do, in part to use the poor woman as a shield from the brightly smiling, elegantly regal force of nature who was striding toward them down the long white stone path.

  “Edeena Arabelle Catherine Saleri, you are, if possible, even more beautiful today than when I saw you last, and I didn’t think nature could possibly improve on its already magnificent work. Welcome home, darling.”

  Vince realized with a start that the queen was speaking English, which could only be for his benefit. She enfolded Edeena into a hug that appeared truly affectionate, before stepping back and surveying him with a graciously appraising eye.

  Edeena cleared her throat. “Queen Catherine, please allow me to introduce Vince Rallis, of Charleston, South Carolina.”

  “Vince, you say?” the queen asked, her eyes dancing. “From my intelligence, the man’s name is Prince.”

  Edeena looked frozen for a moment, and Vince stepped forward, holding out his hand. The queen it took it with both of hers.

  “Prince is a nickname from my childhood, your majesty,” he said, using the form of address Google recommended when he looked it up during the flight, Edeena sacked out on his shoulder. “My given name is Vince, and as I’m sure your intelligence provided, no one would ever mistake me for an actual prince.”

  “I suppose I should ask Edeena that, yes?” the queen asked, swiveling back to Edeena. “He protected you and your sisters during your stay on the island?”

  She tutted, turning toward the castle and taking Edeena’s arm. Vince fell
into step behind them, uncomfortable as a phalanx of guards flowed around their trio in a loose oval. “I’ve never visited the Contos house on Sea Haven island, though of course your mother mentioned it often. I daresay it was one of her most treasured properties. How is Prudence doing?”

  The women chatted as if they were old friends, and Vince sensed an unusually intent stare spearing him in the back. Rather than ignoring it the way he probably should, he looked back to see a man who was almost his equal in height and build, peering at him curiously. When Vince lifted his brows, staring back, the man merely smiled but said nothing.

  The whole lot of them mounted the stairs and entered a sweeping foyer, far grander than anything Vince had seen in the famed residences of Charleston old money, but with the added resonance of being a space well lived-in. The floor was an endless sea of marble, with a long, thickly-plush carpet runner down the center, and fixtures of gold and silver lined the walls. Paintings hung at regular intervals, and though Vince was no art scholar, he somehow suspected that they all were originals and had been painted by people whose names even he would recognize.

  “You must be famished. I recall the flight to America is almost unreasonably long and broken up, and not merely because Garronia is so far east. There simply isn’t an easy trajectory, no?”

  She directed this last question to Vince and he straightened, peeling his gaze away from the army of staff as they settled a dozen or more trays on an already overstuffed table, before another tuxedoed staff member swept in behind them, offering champagne on a tray.

  Vince took one to be polite and immediately began scouting out locations to deposit the glass at his earliest opportunity.

  The queen seemed to be one step ahead of him. “Mr. Rallis, while your dedication to your assignment is gratifying, I assure you, Edeena and yourself are now in good hands. We’re being attended by members of the Garronia National Security Force. In fact, you remind me . . . Captain Korba, Mr. Rallis here has been kind enough to ally his personal security firm with the interests of Garronia. Would you mind showing him our security protocols—to the extent that you’re able—so he can feel assured of Edeena’s safety while he’s our guest?”

  Vince blinked at the barrage of words, meeting the gaze of the man who’d stared at him so disconcertingly on the way into the palace. To his surprise, the man offered him a knowing smile.

  “Of course,” Captain Korba said, bowing to his queen before turning again to Vince. “If you’ll come this way?”

  Vince hesitated, and Edeena’s soft words cut through his confusion. “I’ll be fine, Vince. The queen and I simply need to catch up.”

  With that he nodded briskly to Korba, and allowed the burly man to lead him from the room.

  They hadn’t gone more than a few steps when Korba’s chuckle finally escaped him. “Don’t look so poleaxed, Mr. Rallis. Queen Catherine does this to everyone.”

  “You’re not really going to show me your security systems, are you? That’s insane.”

  “It’s a fairly common occurrence, actually,” Korba countered. “We bring in diplomats, royals from all over the world, and their security teams want to know what we have in place. We show them enough so they understand the rudiments of our system, so that they feel comfortable. And we are protected, here in Garronia.”

  Vince quirked him a glance. “Because of your remote location?”

  “No,” Korba grinned at him. “Because Garronia, she takes care of her own. You’ll learn this, if you stay long.”

  The captain angled down another hallway, then stepped into a room that was nothing at all like a security center. Instead it looked like a shrine to the royal family, with walls of pictures from floor to ceiling, some clearly of the current royals, but far more chronicling what he suspected was several preceding generations of the Andris family.

  The room wasn’t empty of people, either. As they entered, two men turned to watch them approach, so alike in size and demeanor that they had to be brothers. “Aristotle and Kristos Andris,” Korba said, not quite under his breath. “Princes, but don’t let that stand in the way of your opinion of them. They are honorable men.”

  It was clear that the acoustics in the room were excellent, as both men grinned at Korba as he approached with Vince.

  “Aristotle Andris,” the older of the brothers said, holding out his hand. “I understand you’ve had the unenviable task of keeping Edeena safe from herself these past few weeks.”

  “Vince Rallis,” Vince said, shaking the man’s hand. “I’ve made Countess Saleri and her sisters a top priority for my firm.”

  “You’d have to,” said the younger man. Kristos reached out his hand and grasped Vince’s warmly. “Kristos Andris. You know why you’re here?”

  Vince glanced around the room, then noticed a fourth man who’d apparently stepped inside the far door while he’d been going through the introductions. That man, dressed more formally than the brothers in a sharply cut tuxedo, didn’t approach them, but stood with his hands behind his back, apparently looking at nothing at all.

  Vince brought his attention back to Kristos and Ari, then Korba. “My guess is that whatever is about to happen in Edeena’s life is something the Crown would like managed most carefully. The queen has decided, based on what information I don’t know, that I’m a suitable inside man to help carry out that management, while presumably keeping Edeena safe from the machinations of her father.” He paused, taking in their unmoving expressions. “Am I close?”

  “Quite.” The voice was from the fourth man, who’d moved silently toward him during Vince’s speech. Part of him wondered if they’d have a throw down here in this well-appointed room. The men weren’t antagonistic, exactly, but there was the air of a foursome who was always up for a good brawl if the situation presented itself.

  The fourth man reached him, held out his hand. His hair was lighter than the others, his skin less olive-toned, and while he appeared fit, he gave the impression of elegance instead of bulk. Vince shook the proffered hand.

  “Stefan Mihal, diplomatic ambassador,” he said crisply. Vince suspected he was more than that, but let it pass. “The little family drama you’ve found yourself in has been brewing for a long time, and the queen has decided it has carried on for the last generation. As a Saleri relation, albeit a distant one, she’s well versed in the curse and its impact on the Saleri children. She has a particular fondness for Edeena, and would like to see her married to whomever she chooses.”

  Vince rocked back on his heels. “If she chooses to marry at all.”

  Stefan shrugged. “That is a matter of less flexibility in most Garronois families, but it’s a more complicated matter than we have time for. What matters is this. You’ll be assigned as Edeena’s security liaison during your stay here, with Crown approval—something Silas cannot balk. We’re worried that he might do something stupid.”

  “Stupid as in . . .”

  “Abduction and intimidation. Edeena’s lot will be challenging enough in the coming several days, we’d like to ensure she’s making her decisions of her own free will.”

  Vince looked at them, a growing sense of unease developing in his gut. “You’re seriously going to make her go through with this.”

  It was Aristotle who sighed. “Edeena will make herself go through with this, is more the issue. It’s going to happen. Edeena will become the figurehead for her family, with the unenviable task of attempting to draw the sprawling group together for her upcoming engagement ball.”

  “Engagement ball,” Vince said flatly. “Except she’s not engaged.”

  The men looked at him with a sense of amusement, interest, and maybe something else in their eyes, an emotion Vince couldn’t quite figure out. Either way, as one they answered his exasperated comment with one of their own:

  “She will be.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Edeena tried to keep her smile steady as she stood in the center of three bustling women, all of them fussing with he
r hair, her gown, her face. By now she should have been used to it. It was her third day in Garronia, she’d not left the royal palace, and she’d not seen her father. But she’d done everything else for her family other than dance on the head of a pin.

  The brunch with the foreign diplomats, communicating her value to the press corps, who’d picked up the recent arrival of the Countess Saleri with breathless anticipation. The extended luncheon with the queen’s “closest friends,” a gaggle of legendary gossips whose necks and ears and wrists and fingers had been practically encrusted with jewels handed down through generations in their families. The women had thrown themselves whole-heartedly into the question of Edeena’s marital options, but had come to only one conclusion: none of the foreign princes would be sufficient to address the core requirement of the Saleri curse.

  Bringing their highly divided family back together again.

  Edeena grimaced as the queen’s head dressmaker gave a particularly brutal tug on her evening gown. It was hard to believe that the Saleris would come together at all if even the father and daughter couldn’t see fit to endure each other’s company.

  Silas had good reason, of course. His wife, being far younger than he, was still in her mid-thirties, and her pregnancy was considered high-risk. God love the man, he truly did seem to care for his bride, and every moment he was able, he stayed by her side. Edeena had yet to see her, had been given to understand that the mother-to-be didn’t have the stamina to face a stepdaughter less than a decade younger than she was, and Edeena hadn’t pushed it. Lord knew she had enough on her plate with the queen’s social schedule.

  A movement at the door caught her eye, the palace’s staffers standing aside to admit a new man, and for the first time that evening, her heart gave a little flip of joy. “Vince,” she said.

  She’d intended it to be a mere greeting, but two of the three women fussing with her looked up sharply, and even she heard the note of desperation in her voice. She colored, steadying her next words with a ruthless hand. “We’re almost finished here. Have you had a chance to check the ballroom?”