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Totally perversely, hurt was added to the anger that swirled inside her.
‘It’s too complicated, given our situation—given that you’re researching an article on the “real” Marcus Alrikson.’
April frowned. She got why this attraction sucked from her viewpoint, but from his...? Then the penny dropped.
‘You think I’ll kiss and tell?’
‘It’s a possibility I have to consider.’
Now her anger upped its ante and turned into rage. Common sense attempted to indicate that he had a point, but she lasered it down. He should know that she would never do anything so grubby.
Curbing the urge to really give him something to consider—like a knee straight where it hurt most—she narrowed her eyes. ‘I assure you there will be no “tell”, because there will be no “kiss”.’
He opened his mouth and then closed it again, and she wondered what he had been going to say. Whatever it was he’d clearly decided against
it. Instead he gave a small nod and said, ‘That works for me.’
April wasn’t sure how she got through the rest of the evening, but spurred on by pure anger she forced herself to circulate, to talk to as many people as possible about their opinion on Marcus Alrikson.
She gritted her teeth as she heard the words ‘dedicated,’ ‘committed’, ‘drop-dead gorgeous’ and ‘unapproachable’—that from a woman who had once tried to ask him out. There was also ‘ruthless’, ‘arrogant’, ‘fair’...
Finally the orchestra played its penultimate dance. Then Cora Derwent took the stage, thanked everyone for their generous donations and announced that there would be one final speech before the last dance—from Marcus Alrikson.
April blinked and sudden guilt touched her. This event had been in memory of Axel. In her own grief she hadn’t really thought about how Marcus must be feeling.
He climbed to the podium and stood, at ease, confident that everyone would listen to his words.
‘First, don’t worry—I’ll keep it brief. Second, don’t worry—I’m not after any more of the contents of your wallets. I want to take this opportunity to say thank you for your generosity tonight, and I want to say a few words about Prince Axel. And I am not speaking to you now as Chief Advisor to the Prince, but as Axel’s best friend.
‘Axel was a good man—and I mean that in all senses. He had a sense of honour and he truly cared about Lycander and all its people. He had a vision, and it is a true tragedy that he never had a chance to turn that vision into reality. But that aside, what grieves me most is the knowledge that his life ended way too soon. I grieve because I will never hear his laugh again, never have another beer after a game of squash.
‘Axel lost his chance to grow older, to marry and to have children, to feel the Lycandrian sun on his face. For that I grieve. But I promise, Axel, my old friend, that your memory will live on; I miss you as a friend as well as a ruler I would have been proud to serve.’ He lifted his glass. ‘To Axel.’
April blinked back tears, wishing with a familiar fierceness that somehow she could change her past. Those words echoed her own grief—that Edward would never grow older, play football, attend school...
Applause broke out as everyone in the room lifted their glasses, and then the orchestra started to play the last tune of the night and people began to congregate on the dance floor.
April headed straight to Marcus. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘For what?’
‘For not realising this evening must be hard for you, too. Because of Axel.’
His gaze sharpened, and too late she realised her slip: the addition of the word ‘too’ had been a tacit admission of her own state.
‘Yes, it is. But I know that charities like DFL work hard to prevent similar tragedies. Axel would have approved of that.’
‘I get that, but it’s still hard.’
‘Yes.’
April took a deep breath. ‘Can we forget about earlier?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have been so tactless.’
There was a small silence and then April looked up at him. ‘Can I ask you something? Off the record?’
‘You can ask.’
