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“No, I know.” She frowned deeper. “It isn’t that I’m regretting anything or thinking of backing out. It’s just, as I said, unsettling.” She straightened her shoulders and seemed to stare down the palace like she could scowl it into obedience. “I’m sure I will get over it.”
Something strange moved through him as he drove over the bridge that led up to the palace, following the guard’s car ahead of him. It was like a warmth. He supposed, if pressed to define it, he might have called itpride, that she would be so determined to overcome her discomfort.
The car in front of him rolled to a stop at one of the back entrances. Lysias had to laugh, if darkly. The servant’s entrance. He was very familiar withthispart of the castle. It was meant to be an insult, no doubt, but if Diamandis was bothering with insult, he knew Lysias was a threat.
The guards in both cars began to get out, so Lysias leaned over to Alexandra and spoke quietly.
“I believe the king will want us to stay in the palace. He’ll want to keep us close and under careful guard. I will put up asmallfight, but in the end, I’ll let him have his way. This will allow you to prowl the palace as Al, if necessary.”
Alexandra studied him with wide eyes he couldn’t read, but she eventually gave him a nod. Then the vehicle doors were opened for them. And Lysias had to put on the role of careless billionaire, who truly believed Alexandra a princess.
He stepped out, made a few irreverent quips, then offered his hand to Alexandra when they met in front of the car. The guards marched them up to and then inside the doors.
So many painful memories. Most he’d worked very hard to forget. But they crowded in the shadows, slithered around him. And the worst part, they weren’t all ofthatnight. There were warmer ones. Of his parents. Of his friendship with Diamandis. Of the kindness of the king and queen. Those were worse than the nightmare reality of bloody coups.
He looked over at Alexandra as they were lead away from the servant’s area and more toward the royal wing. Something darker, more hidden tried to claw forward as he caught a glimpse of her profile against the background of the ancient marbled palace. Time wanted to warp, send him back into old terror.
But he wouldn’t go there. He never went there. Except in dreams.
And this was no dream. Only his long-awaited revenge finally within his grasp.
CHAPTER NINE
ALTRIEDVERYhard to shake off the feelings of unease. But every step they took deeper into the palace, flanked by intimidating men in military-looking gear, the anxiety coiled so tight she worried she wouldn’t be able to pretend anything at all.
She looked over at Lysias. His gaze was forward as they walked, his expression a kind of blankness that reminded her of last night. When she’d woken terrified and breathless and turned to see him the same.
“You may wait here,” one of the guards said outside giant ornate doors. They depicted some kind of ancient scene in golds and bronze and bright blue paint. Alexandra studied the images, tried to make sense of them.
“The first battle of Kalyva,” Lysias said loudly. “Perhaps it will bring back some more of your memory if I explain it to you.”
“It seems familiar,” Al said, reaching out to touch a golden horse with its legs reared. And that wasn’t a lie. But she was an adept enough liar to find as much truth in her falsities as she could. “But so many of my memories are a jumble.”
Lysias put his hands over hers, drew her index finger forward to trace the horse. “Then allow me to help.” He told her a story about two warring groups of ancient warriors—one made for battle and one that found battle by necessity. He weaved it so it sounded more fairy tale, more myth, than actual historic episode.
And she was rapt, not sure which side she rooted for or which side would come out on top. He told the story with such relish she turned her gaze from the door’s art to him. The harsh profile, the slight curve of his lips, the deep tenor of his voice.
She felt all that heat from last night and something else. More tender. Like when she’d looked over to find him awake from a nightmare as well and wanted to soothe him in some way.
He glanced at her in the midst of a sentence, and either he trailed off, or she stopped listening. Amidst all her fear and anxiety and discomfort here, one thing was very clear in this moment.
Lysias had not changed. She wanted his mouth on hers again, to feel him inside her. No matter how she felt about Kalyva or the palace, she wanted him all the same.
The doors opened abruptly, and Al assumed she must have been so startled by her own reactions to him that she was only imagining Lysias looked as startled by the interruption as she felt. Because, in a blink, he was facing down the king with that laissez-faire smile. And golden daggers in his eyes.
“Sit,” the king ordered, pointing to some delicate-looking chairs in front of a large intimidating desk. The room was some kind of office, likely the king’s office. Alexandra took in the plush rugs, the elaborate window treatments. Every wall had panels of art much like the door, depicting different scenes—she assumed of the history of the royals.
Lysias drew her forward and took a seat on a small settee, pulling her down to sit next to him. She was glad for his proximity, for his lead. It felt a bit like an anchor in the midst of all this unfamiliar discomfort.
The king did not sit behind his desk. He came to stand in front of it, glaring down at them impressively. He was severe, his features dark. His clothes matched his face, all perfect crisp lines and shiny buttons, as though nothing would dare wrinkle or tarnish under his watch. Helookedlike a king, if a little on the young side to preside over an entire country.
Lysias had said she had enough resemblance to the royal family they might believe a connection were true. She stared at the king, but she saw very little, aside from coloring, that might connect them. Of course, she’d never spent much time studying her own face.
“If you wish to push this farce,” the king said. “We only have to do a DNA test to prove you wrong.”
“Naturally,” Lysias replied, resting his ankle on his knee, and flicking imaginary lint from his pants. “Do you think I would really bring you a fake, knowing how easy it would be to prove me wrong?” He turned to exchange an amused look with Al. “I told you he would be suspicious, but we will get through to him.”
She forced her mouth to curve and nod at Lysias. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to sound just right yet. She didn’t have the reserves she needed to be Alexandra, lost princess.
