Queen of Empire: A fantasy romance (The Relic Trilogy Book 1)

by HR Moore

  'Can you believe I'm actually looking forward to this?' Anita said once the hairdresser and makeup artist had departed.

  'By the Gods, if we can get you to look forward to a ball, then there's nothing we can't do,' giggled Cleo.

  Cordelia, who had just got back from walking her dog, Thorn, entered the room.

  'Ha! Did she just say she was looking forward to tonight? It's amazing what a bit of makeup and a pretty dress can do! You both look beautiful,' said Cordelia, 'effortlessly elegant.'

  'Thanks,' they said together, giving independent twirls, then laughing like kids playing dress-up. A rap sounded on the front door.

  'That will be for me,' Cleo squealed, giving Anita an excited half hug, then rushing to the door, pausing for a moment to regain her composure before swinging it open. 'See you later!' she called over her shoulder, gliding through and saying, 'Hello Henry,' in her most sassy tone.

  Anita and Cordelia could just about make out Henry's stuttering, 'Hello,' as Cleo closed the door behind her.

  'Poor thing has no idea what he's got himself into,' Anita joked.

  Cordelia laughed. 'She always was a determined one.'

  'That's an understatement,' said Anita, 'but if he can't even manage to say hello, I'm not convinced he'll last the night!'

  Five minutes later, Cordelia tactfully removed herself. 'I'm off to sit by the stream for a while. You look lovely Anita, and I hope you have a wonderful time.' Cordelia gave Anita a brief hug before heading for the back door, Anita suddenly emotional. She took a deep breath and shook it off.

  She checked the clock. Six forty. Plenty of time to contemplate both how to handle Marcus and what to do about the Alexander problem. She perched on the arm of a sofa thinking the situation through, surprised when she heard the gate squeak.

  She jumped up and looked through the window to see a parked town car and Marcus striding up the path towards the front door. Anita retreated from the window and took a couple of deep breaths. 'Well, guess I'll just have to wing it,' she muttered, taking a deep breath as Marcus rapped forcefully on the wood.

  Anita waited a few moments before making her way slowly to the door. He deserved to sweat; he had, after all, turned up twenty minutes early, a most un-gentlemanly thing to do. In fact, maybe that should be her opening line…

  She swung the door open, revealing each to the other, and they stood in silence as they took in the sight, Anita's chastisement forgotten. Marcus' energy made a sharp, upward turn, and she heard his breath catch in his throat. Her own energy soared as she surveyed the impeccably dressed, dazzlingly handsome man in front of her.

  Anita smiled, relishing the flutter in her stomach. Marcus took glorious control. He stepped towards her and kissed her slowly, seductively, on each cheek, Anita's energy tingling delightfully as he did so.

  'Good evening, Anita,' he said in her ear.

  'Good evening, Marcus,' she replied, as he took a step back. 'I think you'll find you're early.'

  'I couldn't wait a moment longer,' he said, at least a hint of sincerity in his tone, 'and there's somewhere I want to take you before we surround ourselves with people.'

  Anita stepped forward, raising an eyebrow, Marcus closing the door behind her. He turned and offered her his arm. 'You are exceptionally beautiful,' he said softly, leaning in towards her.

  Anita tilted her head and smiled, letting him guide her down the path and through the gate.

  By the time they reached the car, Marcus' chauffeur was holding open the door to the very spacious back seat. Marcus helped Anita inside. He waited until she was settled before climbing in.

  'What is it you want to show me?' asked Anita, intrigued, after a couple of minutes of driving. The ball was taking place at Austin's estate just outside of Empire, which was where they seemed to be heading, and Anita was keen to know what lay in store.

  'It's a surprise,' he shrugged, boyishly, as though it were something he couldn't tell her even if he wanted to.

  She shot him a simmering look before smiling in submission.

  They travelled in silence, Anita watching the scenery, Marcus watching Anita, both pacified by the rhythm of the car and mellow music playing from the front. They were up in the woods above the river now and still climbing. Anita assumed that Austin's estate would be at the top of the hill, with a spectacular view; that would be where she would choose to live if she were in his position.

  They passed a pair of imposing gates, enormous, protective lions on pillars either side, and Anita threw Marcus a curious look.

  'We're going in a different entrance,' he said, by way of explanation, confirming Anita's suspicions that this was it. About a mile further through the woods, the chauffeur turned the car through a pair of much smaller, far less intimidating gates. The car popped out of the tree line into open parkland soon after. This ran to the edge of a cliff, affording spectacular views of the surrounding landscape, including both Empire and the observatory.

  The chauffeur pulled up near the cliff's edge, got out, and came round to open the door. Marcus stepped out and helped Anita do the same. She walked to the edge and studied the vertical drop to the river, a long way below. It was incredible.

  She turned to look back at Marcus, but as she did so, caught sight of something behind him that was altogether more impressive; an enormous, imposing castle, complete with fairytale battlements and turrets. Bloody hell.

  The chauffeur unloaded a picnic basket and blanket before nodding to Marcus and striding off into the woods.

  'Where's he going?' asked Anita. 'You're not going to make him hang out in the woods?'

  Marcus laughed. 'No, even the evil Descendants aren't that mean. There's a summer house. He's gone to make himself a cup of tea and put his feet up until I call him back. Come on, we don't have long until we have to put on a show,' he said, taking her hand and leading her to the blanket.

  They sat, Anita as elegantly as she could, given the restrictive dress. She sent a silent thanks to the Gods that she wasn't wearing the figure-hugging number Cleo had on.

  Marcus opened the wicker basket and produced two beakers and a bottle of Ginger Champagne. 'Sorry,' he said, expertly popping the cork and pouring generous quantities into each beaker, 'I couldn't find any champagne flutes that Dad wouldn't have killed me for bringing out here, and the caterers for the ball were watching theirs like hawks.'

  'How unjust,' she teased, as he handed her a beaker. Hearing Marcus call Austin 'Dad' made Austin seem almost human. Anita had visions of Marcus as a small boy being chastised by an exasperated father and found it quite endearing.

  'It's quite some view you've got here,' she said, turning to look at the landscape, taking a sip of the delicious wine, bubbles fizzing gently on her tongue.

  'I thought you'd like it,' he said. 'I come out here a lot. My mother often comes with me.'

  The mention of Marcus' mother shocked Anita. She'd assumed she was dead, having never heard anyone talk about her. She hadn't been at any of the events over the last couple of weeks, had she?

  'I look forward to being introduced to your mother,' said Anita, hoping he would offer up more information.

  'You might have to wait a while for that,' said Marcus, heavily. He saw Anita's inquisitive expression, so tentatively continued. 'My father and mother don't see eye to eye anymore, on anything, so they lead separate lives. My mother comes out here when Dad's in Kingdom, and she goes back to Kingdom when he comes out here. I go between the two, although I spend more time with Dad now, obviously.'

  'That must be hard,' said Anita.

  'Not especially,' he shrugged. 'You're used to what you're used to, I suppose. Like I imagine you're used to living with your grandmother and not seeing your parents.'

  'My parents are dead,' she said, watching for his reaction.

  Marcus' eyes flew open. 'Anita, I'm so sorry. I had no idea.'

  She smiled. 'Why would you? It's fine. I don't even remember them. As you say, you're used to what you're used to.
Living with my grandmother seems normal to me, anything else would be strange.'

  Marcus topped up her beaker, a comfortable silence setting over them as their eyes wandered across the horizon, the seriousness of their revelations ebbing away.

  Marcus turned to look at her, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 'Ready for the first dance?' he asked, the air charged with flirtation.

  'It's not the first dance I'm worried about,' she said. 'I'm more concerned about how everyone will react to me turning up with you. I can almost hear the ripple of whispers as we walk in already.'

  'Ah yes, the gossip mill. It's surprising your friend Cleo's managed to keep our secret, and even Dad hasn't found out about you, which is I think a first for him.'

  Anita's guts tightened at this news. It was one thing to have to deal with the gossip mill, it was quite another to have to deal with a blindsided Austin.

  Marcus got up and walked over to the car. 'Anyway, I wasn't talking about the first dance in there,' he nodded towards the castle. 'I meant the first dance we are about to have out here.' He turned on the car radio, a vibrant, sassy melody rippling out of the speakers. He sauntered back to Anita and held out his hand.

  She looked at it for a beat, making him wait before she took it. 'I do hope you know how to lead,' she said.

  'I'm more concerned that you might not know how to follow.'

  Anita smiled. 'Touché,' she said, raising an eyebrow. 'I suppose we're about to find out.'

  Marcus used her hand to pull her to him, placing his free hand on her waist, drawing her close, bodies pressed together. He took control, and Anita let him. They danced for what seemed like forever, flirting, testing, teasing.

  Marcus spun Anita out before guiding her back into his hold. Not bad, she thought, starting to enjoy herself. Not quite as good as Bass, but the first dance would be a long way from an embarrassment.

  As the song came to an end, Marcus bent Anita gently backwards, holding her there as the last remnants of the song floated away into the twilight. Stillness filled the air and Marcus gently pulled her back to him, faces inches apart. They stilled, pulses racing, before Marcus leant in, his intention plain. Anita pulled away.

  'You'll smudge my lipstick,' she breathed, her eyes throwing him a challenge.

  Marcus grabbed her hand as she moved away and pressed it lightly to his lips, meeting both her eyes and her challenge.

  'As you wish…,' he purred.

  * * * * *

  'Anything new?' Austin snapped at the man in front of him, dressed head to toe in black; a guard from his security team sent to give him an update. Austin had no idea who he was, nor did he care. He was annoyed that Amber hadn't deigned to come herself and this man seemed as good a person as any to take that out on.

  'We know who Marcus has asked to accompany him to the ball this evening,' the man said. He spoke with care, taking time over every word in a way that Austin found intensely irritating.

  'Oh?' replied Austin, his interest piqued, though he didn't show it, making a mental note to get Amber, the Head of his Security and Research Team, to sack this dithering imbecile.

  'Anita. The girl who won the Chase. By all accounts she's an excellent dancer, so the first dance should be quite a spectacle,' he prattled, when he really should have stopped the moment he'd uttered Anita's name. Austin's face was dark as night.

  'You mean to tell me that my son is bringing to a Crowning Ball some girl he has met only twice? Some low life, unorthodox girl that everyone thinks is peculiar?' His voice was chilling, but the imbecile continued confidently, seemingly oblivious to Austin's reaction to his words.

  'She seems exceptionally skilled Sir,' he said, in an enthusiastic tone.

  'I know that, you simpleton, that's why I have a security detail on her. Why else do you think you currently find yourself in my employment?' Austin's voice was louder now.

  The man tried to stutter a reply, but a cool, enticing female voice put him out of his misery, before he could dig himself into any further danger. 'Thank you, Thompson, you can go.'

  The woman was on the tall side of average, lithe, with heavy auburn hair that she wore cut short in a bob. Her skin was porcelain white and flawless, her eyes cat-like and treacherous. Thompson didn't need to be told twice and made his way swiftly past the stiff, heavy, leather, drawing room furniture, past where Amber was standing seductively by the crackling fire, towards the ancient oak door. She waited for him to leave before meandering her way towards Austin, his face still alive with fury. She pouted provocatively as she approached him.

  'Austin,' she said sulkily, putting one hand on each lapel of his dinner jacket and kissing him lightly on the lips, 'aren't you going to tell me how enchanting I look?' She spoke slowly, lingering over the word enchanting, stepping back to complete a slow turn as she said the words.

  'Amber, you look captivating, as always, but your feminine charms are not going to get you out of this one,' he growled, perhaps not quite as aggressively as he could have done. 'Why didn't you know that Marcus was bringing our number one suspect to the ball?'

  'I had my suspicions,' she said, stepping forward and playing with his bow tie, 'but I didn't want to tell you until I was sure. And now I'm sure, so here we are.

  'They may have met more than twice, as we previously thought, but they have only ever met briefly. It makes perfect sense. She's powerful, and Marcus has always been attracted to powerful people. You can hardly blame the boy; I can only imagine how dull it is to have to spend time with all the airheads he normally hangs around with. At least Anita has a bit of fight in her. I would quite like her,' she looked up through her lashes, 'if she wasn't number one on my hit list.'

  They had been on a constant lookout for powerful girls of about Anita's age, especially powerful people from the Body Temple, ever since Christiana had told Austin they were coming to Empire to look for the girl.

  'Speaking of your hit list, have you made any progress?' asked Austin, his thunderous mood abating as he absently caressed her lower back; he did love to discuss the hit list. Amber arched into him.

  'We have one or two more to add to the list, both members of the Institution, but Anita still outstrips them all,' she said. 'In fact, Marcus might be doing us a favor; we have the perfect opportunity to study her more closely.'

  'Which is great, until he falls in love with her, and she does turn out to be the one.'

  She smiled a slow, ruthless smile. 'Marcus is far too much like you to do something as stupid as falling in love. It's lust and infatuation, nothing more,' she said, pulling back from him.

  Austin smirked, using the hand at the base of her spine to pull her roughly back against him, noses almost touching. 'Is that what it is?' he said.

  Her eyes flashed. 'I would say so,' she said, then bit his lip so it was almost painful.

  Austin pushed her away in retaliation. 'My adoring public awaits,' he said, heading for the door.

  Amber had placated him…for now.

  * * * * *

  Austin came out of the drawing room just as Marcus and Anita were climbing the steps through the front door into the imposing entrance hall. They were a breath-taking couple, even Austin had to admit it. They looked positively regal as they ascended the stairs, Anita's arm laced through Marcus'.

  Marcus, oblivious to Austin's presence, turned his head to look down at Anita in a way that was half predator, half puppy dog. Anita looked up at Marcus and smiled. Austin's mood blackened; that had better be what lust looked like.

  Anita detected a sudden shift in energy ahead and looked up to see who it belonged to. Spotting Austin, she tried to pull away from Marcus, but Marcus, who had also spotted Austin, held her resolutely in place.

  'You're late,' snapped Austin.

  'Father, you remember Anita?' Marcus said brightly, ignoring Austin's formidable tone. 'Our guest of honor this evening?'

  'Anita,' Austin nodded, before whirling around and striding towards the great hall, cloak billowing ou
t behind him.

  Marcus turned to Anita and gave her an apologetic look.

  'That went well,' said Anita, as they followed in Austin's wake.

  'Ignore him. He was obviously in a bad mood already,' Marcus whispered.

  They approached the huge, studded oak doors that led into the great hall and joined Peter, Gwyn, Alexander and Austin, who were already there.

  Alexander turned as they approached, and Anita didn't miss the spike in his energy, or the darkening of his eyes. His eyes lingered on her for a beat too long before Marcus stepped in between them, snapping the moment.

  Anita shot Marcus a hostile look, motioning to indicate the lack of dates for the other Descendants.

  'We don't normally allow non-Descendants in the procession,' he murmured in her ear, 'but seeing as you are the guest of honor, we'll go last.'

  Great. One more thing to make her stand out, as if there wasn't enough already. At least Marcus and Alexander looking as dashing as ever would draw some of the female attention away from her.

  Gwyn sported an impressive emerald and diamond necklace that Anita's eyes kept darting back to. But Gwyn's dress seemed to somehow wear her, rather than the other way around. It was black, low cut, and velvet, complete with a very high slit up the side. It was beautiful, but she couldn't pull it off. Maybe that would attract the attention of the bitchy girls; Anita might get off lightly.

  The hum of chatter that had been audible through the doors faded abruptly into silence, hauling Anita back from her thoughts. The Descendants lined up, ready to process. First Gwyn, then Peter, then Alexander, then Austin and then Marcus and Anita. Marcus offered Anita his arm and she begrudgingly took it; it would, she reasoned, look odd if she didn't.

  They could hear the muffled sound of a councilor instructing the room to stand for the procession and the scrape of chairs as everyone obliged. The councilor then announced their arrival, the thick doors swinging easily open when he finnished. Gwyn immediately and confidently led the way through.