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Another photo went up—another picture of Sophia. ‘As you can see, she bears a strong resemblance to my sister. Sometimes…’ he cleared his throat and his gaze sought Ana’s ‘…sometimes she takes my breath away with a gesture or a look that I remember from another time. It hurts my heart and I have to remind myself to look forward, not back. At the same time I can tell you that there is no better motivation for wanting peace and understanding between neighbours than having this child in my life.’
Another picture, this one showing Ana from behind and Sophia at the school gate. Where had he got these pictures? Why hadn’t she realised someone had been taking them? Ana felt a twitch between her shoulder blades, as if someone had painted a bullseye on her back.
‘My daughter has lived a sheltered life away from the press. Her childhood has been a happy one, and I would see it continue. Any attempt at invasion of her privacy will be met with a security force some may consider excessive. My reply to this is simple. Consider what Byzenmaach—what I—have lost.’
There was one more picture of Sophia, spreadeagled on the floor with Jelly the wolfhound and the little black puppies, her ponytail sloppy and tilted to one side as she oversaw the feeding. Jeans, no shoes, a faded blue Tee—a little girl in all her innocence. The setting showed a stone floor and walls that gave nothing of the location away but hinted at age and grandeur. Protection of the young. The picture was perfect.
He glanced down at the podium and smiled wryly. ‘I know you’ll have questions and have anticipated some of them. Ladies and gentlemen of the press, the mother of my child is fluent in six languages—including ours—and is an interpreter for the European Parliament and the United Nations.’ He touched the ring on his hand briefly, and Ana wondered whether he did so for luck or for courage, or whether the gesture was a totally unconscious one.
‘Until now, my daughter and her mother have lived independently of the Byzenmaach monarchy. That is about to change. My daughter will soon begin to take on the roles assigned to her as a valued member of this royal family. She will occupy the duchy formerly held by my sister and will henceforth be known as the Duchess of Sanesch. I thought it fitting. Any questions?’
Oh, dear Lord, were there questions.
Was he married?
Had his father known of the girl?
What of his relationship with Moriana of Arun?
Casimir, King of Byzenmaach, smiled grimly and began answering the questions that suited him.
No, he was not yet married.
Relations with Moriana of Arun were amicable. He had enormous respect and admiration for the princess but marriage was unlikely.
Ana saw sideways glances and raised eyebrows at that one.
The questions continued, a mad jumble of sound with the occasional moment of breathless silence while everyone waited for his answer.
‘Are you serious about resuming water negotiations with the very same people who murdered your sister?’
‘Yes.’
‘When can we see the child in person?’
‘When I see fit.’
‘What is your relationship with the mother? Do you ever plan to marry and have legitimate heirs? What good is a bastard daughter?’
That last one caused consternation, both within the press and the royal aides assembled. A line had been crossed, a challenge issued. Casimir’s fierce hawk eyes turned predatory.
He stared at the reporter who’d dared ask the question. He let the silence build and the reporter squirm for a very long time.
And then he let his displeasure fill the silence just that little bit more.
‘This illegitimate daughter you shun so quickly is a gift,’ he offered finally in a voice that dissuaded argument. ‘She has many names in my household—Sophia, Little One, Beloved. Bastard is not one of them.’
More buzz from the press at that.
‘If history teaches us anything, it is this,’ Cas continued. ‘It is no easy task to stand beside a king and risk public crucifixion on a daily basis. It is no easy task to live with the constant threat of violence against your own self or your loved ones. The strength required to do so is enormous. Yet here I stand, your king, asking a child in all her innocence to do exactly that. To stand at my side and believe that I can keep her safe. To make her world a better place. Make no mistake, I will see it done.’
