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When, once upon a time, the always overconfident Theosian monarchs had been far more concerned with commanding the sea than beckoning it.
The original Theosian castle lay in ruins at the far end of the island that made up the kingdom. Nina had seen it out her window as she’d flown in today from Athens. The parts that were still standing looked suitably cramped and dark, unlike the high ceilings and open archways that made the Palace of the Gods sucha pageant of neoclassical eighteenth-centurydrama.
She’d spentthe pastfew months studying this place as she’d slowly come to termswith what she was going to have to do. And that itwas inevitablethat she would actually have to come here.Sometimes she’dmanaged to lose herself a little in the studying, theway she hadwhen she’d first found herself with Isabeau—andwould have givenanything to escape.
Ninahad not had the opportunity to go off to university. HadIsabeau not chosen Nina on her desperate orphanage campaign—the Princess’s attempt to show that she was benevolent in thewakeof oneof her many scandals—Nina wouldhave wokenup the next day released from the hold of the state at last.She would have gone out into the world, foundher ownway, and been marvelously free—but likely would not havestudied anything. She’d always tried to remind herself ofthat.
Isabeaucould nothave cared less about the private tutoring sessions her fatherinsisted she take. Half the time she hadn’t botheredto turn up.
That had left Nina with the very finest tutorsin Europeat her disposal. She’d lovedevery moment of hereducation, andshe’d taken the overarching lesson with her throughthe yearssince. If she was to be forcedto trail about afterIsabeau, shemight as well make something of the experience.She’dstudied, therefore, every castle, palace, private island,and other such glorious place she found herself, draggedalong with Isabeau’s catty entourage whereverthe Princess went.She’d studied the places and all the contents therein as ifshe expected she might have to sit an exam on the material.
What Nina really loved was theart all these noble-blooded people tended to hoard. Museumswere lovely, but the real collections were in the privatehomes ofcollectors with bloodlines—and fortunes—thatsoared back throughthe ages. Nina had loved nothing more than sneaking awaywhile Isabeau was entertaining one of her many lovers to takea turn about the gallery of whatever stately placethey weretrysting in.
That was howshe knew that the paintingthat took up most of the wallopposite her, rather ferociously, was a satirical take on a courtier type somethree hundred years ago. And it was comforting, almost, to think that those sorts had always been appalling. Itmade sense. As long as therewere kings, courtiersswarmed.
She was telling her unborn baby about the historyof Theosia—ancient Macedonians this, ancientVenetians that—when, finally, the door to her chamber opened.
Nina braced herself, but, of course, itwasn’t Prince Zeus who stoodthere.She doubted the Prince knew this part of the palace existed.Instead, it was the starchy-looking butler who managed togive her the impression that he was curling his thin lip ather withoutactually movinga single musclein his face.
It was impressive, Ninathought.Truly.
“Were you speaking with someone?” heasked, each syllable dripping with scorn. He had introduced himself thesame way when he’d brought herhere.I am Thaddeus, hehad intoned.
“Yes,” Nina said. They stared ateach other, and she patted her bump. With, admittedly,some theatricalflair. “The royal child currently occupying my womb,of course.”
Shemight have drawn out thewordwomb.
And it was worth it, becauseshe hadthe very great pleasure of sitting there, smiling serenely, asthe man battled to conceal his distaste. Not becausehe wastrying to spare her feelings, she knew. But because it hadno doubt occurred to him that said occupant of herwomb might, in fact, turn out to be the heir to the kingdom, and a goodservant never burned a bridge if he could help it.
Shewas all too aware of how these people thought.
Afterall, she’d been one of them. Not quite staff, not quite acourtier, and therefore condescended to on all sides.
Nina had not missed it.
“If you’ll followme, miss,” said the man, all cool disdain and not-quite-repressed horror. Not to mention a subtleemphasis onmiss,to remind her she had no title or people or, inhis view, any reason whatsoever to be here.I have seen a great many tarts,his tone assured her,and vanquished them all.“His Royal Highness has deignedto grant you anaudience after all.”
Nina hadbeen toldrepeatedly that itwould not be possible to see the Prince. If indeed Zeus was evenhere,whichperhaps he was not, none could say—despite thestandard that flew today,high above thepalace, whichwas howthe Prince informed his people he was in residence. Shehad only smiled calmly, explained and reexplained the situation, and waited.
And,when necessary,shared both herunmistakable bellyas well asphotographic evidence ofthe fact that, yes, she knew the Prince. Yes, inthatway.
Because whileit wasprobably not helpful to any palace staff to ask them to thinkback to a scandal six months ago—givenhow many scandals PrinceZeus was involved inon a daily basis—not all ofthem hadbeen splashed about in all the international papers.Apparently, she really was special.
Ninaignored the little tug of an emotion she did not care to recognize, smilingthe sharp littlesmileshe’dlearned in theHaught Montagnecourt.
“How gracious of the Prince to attendto his mistakes,” she murmured. “How accommodating.”
Thenshe took hertime standing up,a basic sort of movementshehadnever givenany thought tobefore.But it was differentat six months pregnant.
Everything was differentat six months pregnant.
Shefound she rather enjoyed seeing the faintest hint ofa crackin the butler’s facade as he watched her ungainly attempts to rise. More ungainly than necessary, tobe sure, but she was thepregnant woman here. They were treating her like she’d done itto herself.
When shemost certainly had not—but it would help no one,least of allher child, if she let herself get lost in images that served no one. She already knew how little it servedher, because she dreamedabout that night all the time already, and alwayswoke aloneand too hot and riddled with thatlonging—
Stop it,Nina ordered herselfcrossly.
Shekept her expressionplacid with the aid of years of practice, having had to hideherself in the orphanage and Princess Isabeau’s entourage alike.Then she followed the snooty butler out ofthe antechamber,up from the bowels of thepalace, andthrough thehushed,gleaming halls that were all about airiness and timeless glory,as if gods truly did walk here.
