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Orion did not have time to chase that up as she moved to talk with a group of foreign ambassadors. Nor would he have, in all likelihood, even if they hadn’t been in public—because there was a part of him that didn’t want to know what ate at her.
A part of him that was afraid he did know, more like.
Still, if they were alone, he would have kissed her. He would have reached her that way.
Sometimes he thought it was the only way hecouldreach her.
Because he was certain, deep in his bones in a way he was not sure made any sense, that if he could simply marry Calista, everything would be all right. Making her his queen would break whatever spell it was that made her eyes go dark, as if this really was a fairy tale, after all.
Complete with its own ogre, he thought darkly when he found himself face-to-face with Aristotle.
Even though he had instructed his handlers at length that was never to happen. He shot a hard look at the aide to his right, who leaned in with his usual deferential smile.
“I beg your pardon, sire,” the man murmured in Orion’s ear. “He claimed he would cause a scene if he did not get an audience with you.”
And no doubt he would, Orion knew. No doubt he would make it into an opera, and happily. It was far better to suffer a conversation with Aristotle than to have to clean up another one of his messes.
But Orion didn’t have to like it.
“Do you really think you can avoid me?” The other man snarled, his flat eyes gleaming in a way Orion really didn’t like. “Surely you must know it doesn’t work that way. I’m marrying my daughter to you for access.”
“And here I thought I was marrying your daughter for damage control. Did we not sign documents to that effect?”
“Either way I will be your father-in-law. Your family, like it or not. And that must mean I will have the king’s ear.”
“No one is preventing you from speaking,” Orion replied evenly. “As to whether or not I plan to take your advice, I think you already know the answer.”
“You’d better watch yourself there, Your Majesty,” the older man growled, in a way that moved in Orion unpleasantly. He felt his stomach clench. “You may have wrapped me up in legal nonsense concerning that portfolio. But there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
Two months ago, it would not have occurred to Orion to consider how satisfying it would be to punch Aristotle in his round face. Tonight, he had to fight to keep himself from it—and succeeded only because the last thing Idylla needed was their king in a common brawl.
“I am not a cat,” he said icily. “I am your king. And if I were you, Aristotle, I would endeavor to remember that before your mouth gets you into trouble.”
His aide was not close enough to hear his words, but his tone must have carried, because the man winced.
Aristotle snorted. “You are king of an island,” he sneered. “But I am king of a far greater kingdom. I tell people how to think. I tell them what to feel. I make up stories and convince them it’s the truth. All you do is wave from the back seat of a car, or wink invitingly on a few commemorative plates.”
“A person with so little respect for the monarchy should not be quite so desperate to marry into it, I would have thought,” Orion replied, keeping his voice cool—but wholly unable to do much about the edge beneath it.
“I made a meal of your father and the fact he couldn’t keep his pants on,” Aristotle said, looking smug and entirely...satisfied. “What do you think I’ll make out of a grown man as inexperienced as you are?”
For a moment, it was if everything—the villa, the world, all of creation—went blank.
Calista.
Her name was a cry inside him. A curse.
But she had already told him what she’d done, Orion realized, as if from a great distance.
She’d told him and she’d told him again, and he hadn’t listened.
It shouldn’t have surprised him—shocked him, even—that she had told him she would betray him, and then had.
He just hadn’t expected it to take this form.
“If I have a king in my pocket,” Aristotle was crowing at him, “you can bet that I have my own daughter sewed up tight. You need to adjust your attitude, sire.”
And then the vile little man swaggered away from him, leaving Orion to stand there.
