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The next thing she did was pull up her messages, finding the name that she’d put into her phone back in Greece on the day of Theron and Summer’s party.
She typed out a message in English.
Summer, please tell Theron that Lykos needs him urgently. This isn’t a tease or payback. Please, just tell him?
Marit signed her name, hit send and then deleted Lykos’s number from her contacts, deleted the sent messages to Summer and turned off her phone. The temptation to know how Lykos was would be too much for her. This was the only way that she could bear to go ahead with whatever marriage her brother had planned. Knowing that it was for the good of her family, her country...it was all that mattered.
Deep in the centre of the palace, Aleksander paced his room. Back and forth, back and forth. Things had not come about how he’d hoped. It infuriated him beyond belief, but it was not a decision he could make for them. Both Freya and Marit deserved so much more, which was why he’d put the plan into place in the first instance.
He stared out of the window, hoping that there was enough time for them to come to their senses. There was a knock on the door. He had needed to take his sister’s lady-in-waiting into his confidence, not something he had enjoyed or wanted, but necessity had forced his hand. There were two people in the world he could trust and one of those was himself.
‘They are waiting, Your Majesty.’
Aleksander nodded. ‘Make the call.’
Henna’s eyes flashed curiously, as if she wanted to admonish him. The thought was almost laughable. No one had dared try that for years. He simply stared at her until she managed to get herself under control. It took a remarkable amount of time to do, but he was a patient man and, besides, it gave him time to remember a little more about her family. And an idea seeded in his mind at that moment.
Just as she turned to go, he called her back. ‘You have a sister, that is correct?’ he asked, vaguely noticing the way her cheeks flushed. Curious.
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
‘Single?’
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
‘Your mother, she is a marchioness, is she not?’
This time her teeth clenched. Interesting. ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
‘And your sister—?’
‘Will inherit the title. Yes, Your Majesty.’
He raised a disapproving eyebrow and she responded in kind.Fascinating.
‘I believe we are done here,’ she stated.
‘For now,’ he warned, and she disappeared through the door.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LYKOSHADREALISEDthe truth the moment he’d lain on his bed, staring out of the window at the moon rising over Paris, and in its silvery rays he’d seen Marit, her hair dancing on a breeze that he couldn’t feel. She was the reason he’d been able to sleep. With her beside him, he’d not woken once and it had been the one and only time in his life he could remember that happening.
He’d not wanted to leave Svardia—to leave Marit—but he hadn’t trusted himself to stay. So instead he’d come back to where it had all started. And he’d been confronted with Marit’s wedding dress still crumpled in the middle of the living room floor as if she’d just stepped out of it.
He left it there, ignored it as he stripped off his clothes and took the longest shower he’d ever had, in the hope of washing whateverthiswas off him. Not even the dirt of the Athens streets had been so ingrained in his skin, in his psyche.
He let the water stream down around him until the tank ran cold and still he stayed beneath the spray, beating against his skin until it was numb.
But if you’re numb, why does it still hurt?
It was a facile question to ask himself, when he knew the answer well enough.
Because I love her. I will always love her.
With that thought he slammed off the water, jerked back the shower door, leaving it rattling, and stalked into his room.
‘Theé mou, Lykos, do you always walk around naked?’
