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CHAPTER ONE
MELODYSKYROSHADentertained herself for years by imagining that, at any moment, she could embrace her true destiny, become a deadly assassin, and go on a targeted killing spree of only those who really, really deserved it.
But that wouldn’t be ladylike.
She had trained in various martial arts for years. In secret, thanks to one of her gently bred, blue-blooded mother’s few acts of marital defiance. Because Melody’s notoriously unpleasant father, aristocrat and media magnate Aristotle Skyros, could never know that his despised second daughter was receiving anything but the basic comportment classes expected of Idylla’s lofty patricians, who cluttered up the ancient island kingdom with enough hereditary snobbishness to fill the gleaming Aegean Sea.
Aristotle could certainly never know that a daughter of his had been training less in how to sit gracefully at a formal dinner and more in how to neutralize multiple attackers with her fingertips.
He had never forgiven her for being born flawed. He never would. Melody was blind and therefore useless to him—except as a weapon to wield against those who actually cared about her.
Melody’s earliest, happiest daydreams of what she could do with the lethal skills she was learning and then mastering had all been focused on ridding the world of Aristotle.
Who most definitely deserved it.
But her older sister Calista had handled her father, shockingly enough. Calista, born perfect enough to please Aristotle, had worked her way up to become her father’s second in the family corporation, all with an eye toward beating him at his own game. And sure enough, she’d embarrassed and humiliated him by having him removed from his own board and summarily fired from his position as CEO two days ago.
This was in no way as neat, clean, or personally satisfying a solution as an assassination, in Melody’s opinion.
Especially when Melody was the one who had to pay the price of Aristotle’s embarrassment.
Though the price in question had its own rewards, she could admit.
Because tonight she had a new target in mind: His Royal Highness Prince Griffin of Idylla, who was her brand-new brother-in-law, since her sister had married King Orion the night before.
That was bad enough. Melody was still having trouble processing what else the famously oversexed and dissipated Griffin was. To her, personally.
Because it had all happened so fast. Too fast.Dizzyinglyfast.
After Calista had become the Queen, the King had swept her off to the tune of cheers and much merriment as the clock in the palace struck midnight. Christmas Eve had ended, Christmas had begun. Glad tidings were exchanged on high, as befit the traditional, arranged marriage of an Idyllian king that Melody knew included deep and genuine emotion on both sides.
It only took a few moments in Orion and Calista’s presence tofeelhow much they adored each other. A good and proper fairy tale that the whole kingdom could rejoice in and a balm for a nation wearied by the squalid, scandalous antics of Orion’s predecessor, the deeply polluted King Max.
Orion had promised—since long before he took the throne—that his reign would be scandal-free.
When a palace aide had come to escort her away, Melody had assumed she’d be packed off home to her parents’ house, where her father would no doubt be up waiting for her—keen to make her tell him every detail about the wedding and then punish her for attending it. She’d been looking forward to it, as matching wits with her father was one of her favorite games. He always assumed he was the smartest man in any room when, in fact, he was woefully unarmed.
Instead, she had been whisked off to a suite in the palace, something she found pleasant enough until she realized she’d beenlocked in.And come morning, her sister had emerged from what should have been newly wedded bliss to make herannouncements.
“This is about making sure you’re free, Melody,” she’d said over breakfast. Sternly. Taking to her new role a bit too eagerly, in Melody’s view. They’d sat in a private salon so sunny that Melody had leaned back in her chair, the bitter coffee she preferred between her hands, and tilted her face toward the heat of it.
“Are you sure? Because to me it sounds like a royal decree.Your Majesty.”
“It’s both.”
Calista sounded the way she always did, stressed andsisterlyand racked withgrave concerns. Melody never had the heart to tell her that she enjoyed her life a whole lot more than anyone—including Calista, who unlike the rest loved her dearly and was thus forgiven her unnecessaryconcern—seemed to imagine. That didn’t suit most people’s view of what blindness must be like, Melody was well aware. She had learned to keep it to herself.
“I appreciate your help, of course,” Melody had told her. “But I don’t need it. You shouldn’t be worrying about such things, Calista. It’s the first day of your new life as the Queen of Idylla, all hail. Not to mention, it’s Christmas.”
“I know it’s Christmas,” Calista had retorted, but her voice was softer. “And once a few practicalities are sorted out, I promise you that we’ll celebrate the way we always do.”
“You mean, with Father drunk and belligerent, shouting down the place around our ears while we all cower until January?” Melody had laughed. “As appealing as that sounds, maybe it’s time for new traditions.”
“But tonight is the Christmas ball,” Calista had continued, sounding ever more dogged. Melody could feel the daggers her older sister was glaring at her, and, she could admit, took pleasure in remaining as placid and unbothered as possible. Because it annoyed Calista so deeply and obviously. “And I want to give you a gift that no one, least of all Father, can ever take back.”
That Melody had not wanted this gift was neither here nor there.
“I think I’d rather take my chances with Father’s temper,” Melody had said when Calista had told her what she wanted Melody to do.
