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Silence fell again, the deeply unsettling kind.
‘This stays between us for now,’ Casimir said finally.
Rudolpho met his gaze. ‘It can stay between us for ever, if that is your wish.’
Could he do it? Casimir glanced at the pictures strewn across his desk. Could he really shut her out the way he’d shut out all memory of his seven-year-old sister and too-weak-for-this-world mother? Pack all the pictures away and never look back?
Could he really continue on as if the girl simply didn’t exist?
The child was his blood. His responsibility. His to protect. ‘What’s her name?’ he asked gruffly.
‘Your Highness, the less you know the easier it’ll be to—
‘What’s her name?’
‘Sophia.’ Rudolpho sounded defeated. ‘Sophia Alexandra Douglas.’
A fitting name for the daughter of a king.
Had she known? Had Anastasia Douglas known who she was getting in bed with?
‘Your Highness—’
‘Enough!’ Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear it.
‘Your Highness, please. Sleep on this. Think carefully before you expose the child to Byzenmaach, because there’s no coming back from that. They’ll take her and shape her into whatever they most desire, and you’ll have to protect her from that too.’
‘The way my father never did for me?’ Casimir asked, silky-soft and deadly.
Rudolpho remained silent. Never would he speak ill of the king he’d served for over forty years.
‘Are you asking if I can accept this child as a person in her own right—with strengths and flaws of her own making? Can I protect her from the expectations of others? Do I know how to be a father to a child who carries the expectations of a nation on her shoulders? Is that your concern?’
Rudolpho said nothing.
‘I was that child,’ he grated. ‘Who better to defend her exploitation than me?’
Casimir scowled and reached for his drink again. He knew exactly what his father would do with this information, and it would be as Rudolpho said. Use the girl to shore up a nation’s hope until legitimate heirs were produced, then cast her aside because she no longer fitted in the Byzenmaach monarch’s perfect world. She wouldn’t have it easy here. No child of Byzenmaach ever did.
The desk, this room and everything in it stank of duty and the weight that came with it. ‘You really think a part of me doesn’t realise that the kindest thing I can do for both of them is to leave them alone?’
All that, and still…
‘She’s mine,’ he said. ‘My child. My blood. My responsibility.’
The bottom line in all of this.
And yet.
And yet…
Could he really expose the child to the dangers that awaited her here in Byzenmaach?
‘There’s one more thing.’ Rudolpho eyed him warily. ‘We weren’t the only ones watching them. Anastasia Douglas and her daughter were already under surveillance. There was a team on the house, and another in place at the girl’s school. As far as we could ascertain, their focus was the girl rather than the mother.’
Dread turned his skin cold and clammy. ‘Who were they?’
‘We don’t know. They disappeared before we could deal with them. They’re good.’
Not good.
‘I’ve ordered a covert security team to watch and wait for additional orders,’ said Rudolpho. ‘I don’t think it wise to involve your father in any decision-making at this point.’
His father only had days to live. That was what Rudolpho meant. ‘I’ll handle it.’
‘If you need additional counsel—’
Casimir smiled bleakly. ‘I don’t.’
CHAPTER TWO
ANASTASIA DOUGLAS DIDN’T usually attend black-tie fundraising events at the director of the United Nations Secretariat’s request. She was a lowly interpreter, one of many, even if she did have a reputation for being extremely good at what she did. She commanded five languages instead of the average three and was conversationally fluent in half a dozen more. She could navigate diplomatic circles with ease, courtesy of the training she’d received at her Russian diplomat mother’s knee. She had an intimate understanding of world politics, and enough corporate mediation experience to be of use when conversation got heated. All good things for a career interpreter’s toolkit.
