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Leo giggled and charged his father, but Matthias caught him mid-run, lifting him up easily and tickling him at the belly, so Leo’s laughter pealed into the room and, before she knew it, Frankie was smiling. But it was a distracted smile, a smile that was only skin-deep.
‘Excuse me, Your Majesty.’ There was a knock at the door. ‘It is time.’
‘Of course.’ Leo’s smile muted itself when he addressed the servant, and Frankie saw in that moment the duality between private and public. The man and the King. The man who could smile and laugh and tease their son about long ago wars, and the King who presented a sombre and considered face to his servants at all times.
Had he been like that at fifteen? Or had he been allowed to mourn?
They were to be married in the Artheki Cathedrali, her secretary had informed her days earlier. It was five miles away, ancient, and all the Kings of Tolmirós had been married, christened and mourned within it
s walls for over a thousand years. That information had been inserted into the briefing and, though it was an unimportant detail, it had played on Frankie’s mind.
She presumed then that Matthias’s parents and brother had been buried there, that their funeral had taken place within the walls of the cathedral at which they were to marry. Had he spoken at the funeral? At fifteen years old, it wouldn’t have been unusual, but her heart broke to imagine the young boy he’d been, and the pressure that must have been upon him.
She resisted the temptation to run an Internet search on the subject. Her curiosity was natural, but she would prefer her information to come from the source. Snooping around and reading articles online felt somehow wrong.
‘Come, deliciae.’ Was she imagining the way his voice caught as he addressed her? The way his eyes seemed to lock onto hers with emotion and an intent she couldn’t comprehend? ‘It is time for you to meet our people.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘OH, MATTHIAS!’ THEY were alone in a sleek dark limousine, with Liana and Leo following in the car behind. ‘It’s so beautiful.’
Beyond the black tinted windows of the car and the crowds that had lined the streets hoping for a real-life glimpse of the soon-to-be Queen, Frankie could see the streets of Tolmirós and they were setting her soul on fire.
‘It’s like something out of a beautiful story book. I had no idea!’ Terracotta-roofed houses, built close together and higgledy-piggledy, one leaning this way and the next the other, were all washed in different colours of pastel paints. Little balconies had wrought-iron details and window boxes overflowing with bright purple and red plants. Many had refused to be contained to the small pots and were making joyous bids for sunshine and freedom, dancing their tendrils down the sides of the buildings, forming veins of green that shone in the late afternoon sun.
But the most remarkable thing to Frankie was the sense of history that was at every turn. These buildings were ancient. They whooshed past a church with a cupola and a bell tower, white with a shimmering blue face and enormous bronze hands. A statue of a naked man stood in front, and geraniums seemed to grow with complete abandon across a side wall. When she turned in her seat to get a better look, she saw a nun coming from the front gates, throwing something towards the ground. A moment later at least a hundred pigeons descended on the square. The nun threw her head back and laughed and then the limousine turned the corner.
Caught up in the wonderment of this picture-book streetscape, Frankie didn’t realise that Matthias was watching her intently. She didn’t see the way his eyes were scanning her face, reading every flicker of delight that crossed it.
‘I had no idea it would be like this.’
His lips quirked. ‘What did you expect?’
Frankie shrugged. ‘I guess I didn’t think about it. Until a week ago, Tolmirós was just some place on the edge of the Mediterranean. And since we arrived, we’ve been in the palace. I expected beautiful beaches and, I guess, a modern city, but this is...just...stunning.’
Pride flashed on his features and his nod was swift. ‘The city of Novampoli was built in the nineteen-seventies. We needed a place that wasn’t part of the port cities—much of our prosperity comes from being a safe harbour for shipping companies, but my father kick-started a technology revolution. Banking and finance are also primary industries for Tolmirós. We needed a city that would answer those requirements. The first few buildings were modest but within a decade or two high-rises began to shape the skyline. It is now a place of glass and steel, and the food there is second to none. I will take you there, when next I have occasion to go. You will like it.’
‘Is it like Manhattan?’ She settled back into her seat, smoothing the skirts of her dress simply for something to do with her hands.
‘In some ways, but without the mix of old and new. It is more like Dubai, I think. A somewhat artificial-seeming city, in a place you wouldn’t expect it. The whole island is a city, and an enormous bridge spans from the west shore to its neighbouring island, Emanakki.’
‘I’d like to see it some day,’ she said with a smile. ‘I want to see everything.’
He laughed softly. ‘And so you shall, Frankie. In fact, soon it will be your duty to see and know everything about our country.’
She angled him a look thoughtfully. ‘Who were you going to marry?’
He arched a brow at her change in conversation. ‘That seems irrelevant now.’
‘I’m curious. Indulge me.’
‘I think I told you that I hadn’t yet decided...’
Feminine disapproval had her lips curling. ‘Of course. You had a queen smorgasbord from which to select your bride. I’m just asking who it was likely to be.’
He smothered a smile at her comment and nodded. ‘Lady Tianna Montavaigne was the front-runner.’
‘Why?’
