Page 10 of Palace of Betrayal

León dropped his foot to the floor as he leaned forward. “I know it sounds crazy and we hardly know each other, but it feels right. As if I’ve known her forever.”

“It does sound crazy, but it was the same for your mother and me.”

León held up his hand to stop whatever his father was going to say next. “I don’t want to talk about mother.”

The King sighed, and for the first time ever he looked every inch of his seventy years. It was startling and León was rattled by the sight of his father looking his age. His mortality had never been in question but now León faced the reality of what was going on. One day his father would no longer be around and despite everything, that filled him with incredible sadness.

“Either way, I’m pleased. I want to see you happy, and God knows you need an heir. Currently, if anything happens to you after I die, your dolt of a cousin becomes King and I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much to let an idiot like Alain sit on this throne.”

“Wow, we’re way off marriage, Father. We just met.”

“But you said she was the one.”

“Yes, but there’s no need to rush things.”

“I disagree. There’s every need and I just outlined them. Bring her to dinner tonight. I want to meet her.”

“Fine, but no booking the church just yet. I don’t want to scare her off.”

His father harrumphed as a knock sounded at the door. His father stood and he followed suit, facing the door. Five men walked inside, three of whom he recognised. His uncle Alwyn, Alain’s father, Roberto, his father’s private secretary, and Cyril Powel, their prime minister.

“Prime Minister.” León shook the hand of the man who led their country in government.

“Your Highness. Good to see you.”

“Likewise.” León liked Cyril, he was a straight shooter and didn’t suffer fools. As a military man, he’d served the country and shown great bravery.

Roberto nodded as he took the King’s side and Alwyn positioned himself close to the King on the other side. A power move he knew to try and throw him off. Since he’d turned eighteen, his uncle had been making these little moves to try and press the fact he was more suited than Alfred to be King, and he certainly didn’t think León had what it took. Since he’d returned from serving his country, the moves had become more obvious, and León wondered if he was threatened by him. He needn’t be. Alwyn had no claim on the crown, and he knew it, so this was all unnecessary in his book.

“Prince León, this is Brody James. He’s my new press secretary.”

León looked at the man who he guessed was the same age as himself. He was fit and muscular with intelligent blue eyes. “Mr James, nice to meet you.”

“You too, Your Highness.”

His accent was American. South if he had to guess, with a lyrical and deep quality to it.

He turned to the other man who was standing a few feet from them all and stretched out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“This is Albin Wojcik. He’ll be working with me to help stabilise relations with our Eastern European friends.”

León glanced at his uncle, who had the unofficial title of European Relations Ambassador because he liked to travel and party. He wasn’t a good man and would make a horrible leader should that ever come to pass.

“Is that so.” León swung his gaze back to Albin, who was watching them with a closed expression. His face gave nothing away and that in itself was telling as far as he was concerned. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Wojcik. I look forward to working with you more closely.”

As the meeting got started and mundane press items were addressed, León found his mind wondering. Were these two new additions to the staff a mere coincidence or was this to do with the auction and the Tanzanite Tears? His gut told him it was but at this point, he had no evidence either man was involved, and he certainly didn’t trust his uncle as far as he could throw him.

As they were wrapping up the meeting a call came through the landline in his father’s office, which was unusual.

Roberto answered the call, his face paling and he glanced around the room in shock. “Yes, I understand. Protocol ten will need to be implemented immediately.”

At the words, León’s gut took a nosedive and he sat forward beside his father. Worry was etched on the face of every man there who knew the significance of protocol ten.

Roberto looked to the King before he dipped his head. “I’m very sorry to tell you but The Grace exploded about six hours ago. The coastguard just got word. It seems everyone on board was killed.”

León jumped to his feet, his head spinning at the news his yacht had been destroyed and his cousin, oh dear God his cousin, was dead. He looked to his father, who was watching him as if needing him to lead at that moment. León didn’t need it verbalised for him to act. They may not have been close, but he had always had his father’s six. “Uncle Alwyn, my deepest sympathies.”

His uncle, for all the hostility between them, looked thoroughly shaken by the news and accepted the hand he offered.