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For a moment, Orion hadn’t been sure that he could speak. And he had been closer to indulging the tidal wave of fury inside him than he ever had been before.
It took everything he had not to launch himself at the other man. Everything he had and the sure knowledge that Aristotle would love it if he did.
But everything in him had rebelled. Giving in to blackmail was never the right answer. He knew that. It had been impressed upon him from a young age that he must never allow another person to have that kind of hold over him, not when he would one day rule—except, what choice did he have?
Idylla could not stand another scandal.
And certainly not one that was, though it beggared belief, worse than all that had come before.
Aristotle had waited, the very picture of corpulent malice.
And, as ever, Orion had shoved his personal feelings aside and thought of the kingdom.
“I do not know what bargain you made with my father,” he had said eventually, though every word was like poison on his tongue. “Therefore, I cannot honor it. If you want your daughter to be my queen, you must agree to my terms.”
Aristotle had chuckled. “That’s not how this works.”
But the longer Orion gazed at him, expressionless, the less he laughed.
And when he stopped, Orion continued. “You will sign a binding legal document that will ensure two things. One, that you will be imprisoned for life if you violate any of the terms in said document, all of which, of course, will insist upon your silence regarding these photos. And two, in addition to your jail time, you will be fined. To the point of insolvency and beyond, if you are ever responsible for any of this coming to light. Do you understand me?”
Aristotle sputtered. “I don’t think—”
But Orion had spent his whole life dealing with a man just like Aristotle. A man who was even worse, in fact, because his every word had been law, like it or not. Once the red edge of his temper had faded, he’d understood that like it or not, he was in his element.
He would be handling his father unto eternity, it seemed.
But at least he was good at that.
“In return,” he said coldly, “I will elevate your vile, polluted bloodline. I will marry your daughter. I will do this because unlike my father, I am a man of my word.” He’d watched Aristotle’s face grow mottled. “But because I am my father’s son, I will also put the betrothal agreement in writing.” He’d taken out his mobile and fired off a series of texts to his staff. “I will have my attorneys deliver the appropriate documents while we wait for the search on your properties to be finished.”
And Aristotle hadn’t liked it but he’d nodded, anyway, and made the deal.
There were worse things, Orion told himself now as he opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. Men in his position had been marrying for reasons like this, or worse, as long as there had been kings. So it went. His own parents’ marriage had been arranged and if he knew nothing else it was that without even trying, he would be a better husband than his father had been.
No matter if Calista Skyros was a carbon copy of her repellant father.
He was sure that the woman who stood at the balcony rail, her gaze somewhere in the distance where the Aegean met the sky, heard his approach. But she didn’t turn.
And whether she had a sense of the dramatic, was deliberately being rude, or was girding her loins for this confrontation, he didn’t know. But he took the opportunity to do the same.
Orion had seen pictures of her, of course. His staff had presented him with an exhaustive portfolio on Lady Calista within hours of his father’s initial announcement. He knew she’d been educated at the Sorbonne, not at an Idyllian university. That she had been bred to make an aristocratic marriage, regardless of her father’s filthy trade, because that was how Idyllian nobility worked. Its purpose was to continue itself.
He knew that after the Sorbonne, Calista had come back to Idylla and started work at the lowest level of her father’s company, which he was sure was meant to counteract suggestions of nepotism when it was clearly the opposite. These days, she had clawed her way much higher in the company. She was now the vice president of a media conglomerate that trafficked in lies.
His betrothed was a liar by blood and by choice, in other words.
She was in no way an appropriate choice to be his queen. If he’d been permitted to choose for himself, he would have looked for someone who worked with charities. Someone whose calling in life was service to others, not...revolting tabloid speculation.
But Orion was a practical, rational man. He’d had to be, whether he wanted to be or not. The truth was, he had never expected that he might get the opportunity to fall in love like a regular person. Because he wasn’t one.
In a way, this was no different from any arrangement that might have been made for him.
And all that mattered was that he would protect Idylla, come what may. Even if it meant marrying this creature and linking her detestable family to his.
He had placed the Crown of Idylla upon his head and he had sworn to do his duty, and so he would.
She turned then, and for a moment, Orion didn’t think of duty at all.
