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‘Surely that’s a little extreme?’
His features were like ice. ‘No.’
‘But he’s just a baby,’ she murmured. ‘He’d much rather travel with his mother or father.’
‘He is my heir,’ Matthias said through clenched teeth. ‘Keeping him alive is my priority.’
She ignored the unpleasant suspicion he was speaking as a king who needed a living heir rather than a father who valued the survival of his child. Of course it was both. ‘Then I’ll travel with him in the future,’ she said simply.
‘Your place is with me,’ he rebuffed gently, his eyes sweeping closed for a moment. ‘And Liana is there for Leo.’
‘You created this law,’ she prompted softly, gently. ‘So there wasn’t one before this?’
His eyes fired. ‘No. If there had been...’ The words trailed off into nothing and now she was moving closer to him, needing him to hear her.
‘If there had been,’ she insisted, ‘that boulder would have still been there. The car with your parents in would have crashed.’
‘But Spiro would have lived.’ His eyes glittered with hurt and pain and her heart twisted achingly.
‘You don’t know that,’ she whispered softly. ‘You don’t know that your car wouldn’t have crashed as well. You don’t know that something else awful might not have happened later. There are no guarantees in life,’ she said simply.
‘You think I don’t know that?’ He turned to face her, his expression tortured, his features drawn. ‘You think I don’t understand how completely beholden we are to fate and sheer damned luck?’
His hurt was like a rock, pressing against her chest. ‘So stop trying to control everything,’ she murmured, lifting a hand to his cheek. ‘I don’t want our son growing up afraid of his own shadow. I don’t want him being governed by protocols and edicts that overturn natural instinct. He’s our son. He belongs with us.’
She pressed her head forward, so their foreheads connected, and she breathed in deeply, this connection somehow every bit as intimate as what they’d shared by the pool.
‘It’s my responsibility to protect you both, and I will do so with my dying breath.’ The words shook with the force of his determination, and Frankie was momentarily speechless.
Then, with a surge of understanding, she cupped his cheek, holding him still. ‘Is that what this is about? You think you couldn’t save Spiro and now you’re trying to guarantee that nothing bad will ever happen to us?’ Her insight was blinding in its strength and accuracy. She knew she was right when he recoiled for a moment. But she moved with him, staying close, holding him to her. ‘You were just a boy, Matthias. You couldn’t do any more than you did.’
‘How do you know?’ he asked, uncharacteristically weary. ‘You weren’t there. You don’t know anything about the accident...’
‘I know that if you could have saved your brother or your parents, you would have. I know that if there’s anyone on earth with the strength to almost make the impossible possible, it’s you, Matt. You have to forgive yourself. Free yourself from this guilt.’
‘Easier said than done.’ He expelled a sigh and shook his head. ‘I will not change my mind about Leo’s safety. You’ll have to respect that I know what I’m talking about.’ He was himself again. Matthias Vassiliás—a king amongst men, intractable, unchangeable, determined. The emotionally charged air was gone and he sat back in his seat as if to say, conversation closed.
Frankie was about to argue with him, she wanted, desperately, to alleviate this guilt of his, but the windows began to move down slowly and she had only seconds to sit back in her seat and compose her features into an expression of assumed happiness, lift her hand and begin to wave slowly at the assembled crowds. The noise was deafening! People began to scream when the window went down, loud and shrill, but oh, so excited. The crowd applauded and children threw flowers at the car.
The conversation with Matthias pushed deeper into her mind, for later analysis, in the face of such a rapturous welcome. Matthias, beside her, seemed unaffected. He didn’t smile nor wave, but simply watched Frankie and allowed her to have all the adoration of the people who’d come to see the woman who would be Queen.
She was so captivated by the crowds that she didn’t notice the castle until they were almost on top of it but, as the car slowed to a stop, she glanced up and an involuntary rush of breath escaped her. ‘Oh, Matt, look!’
His smile was just a flicker. ‘I know.’
It was an ancient-looking castle, with enormous turrets that were topped with pointed roofs. As a child she’d read a book about Sir Gawain and she’d always imagined the castle to be something like this.
‘It was the palace of a prominent family in the twelfth century. As civil wars gradually broke down the ranks of nobility, the palace reverted to the Crown. It serves as our parliament, and the west wing is used as a gallery for children to come and learn about the country’s politics.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Windows had been set in ancient brick, the glass rippled and uneven, showing its age.
‘You should see it from the other side,’ he teased but, before she could ask him what he meant, the doors were opened by a guard in a full liveried uniform and white gloves. The crowd reached a deafening pitch. Frankie moved towards the door but Matthias stilled her, holding her back in the limousine, safe from prying eyes for one more moment.
‘Do you feel okay?’
She frowned. ‘I feel...fine. Why?’
‘This could be overwhelming. Do you need anything?’
