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She looked at the doctor, then at Lysias, then back. Then, as if sensing she couldn’t really doanythinguntil someone attended that wound, she dropped the gauze for the doctor.
Lysias left them to it. Seeing the wound on her created too many conflicting feelings. He only had room in his life for one revenge. Though he made a quick call to his guard to check on the fate of the attacker and then made a few more calls to ensure the man never saw light outside of a cell again.
He also set in motion a clandestine investigation that would put whoever was behind the attack behind bars. He considered Al—Alexandra—under his protection now, until his revenge was seen through. That protection included justice.
His staff would ensure she did not escape, and he had much work to do to move up the timeline of his plans. So he went to work.
A few hours later, he was summoned to dinner by his housekeeper. “And our houseguest?” he asked.
“She has been seen to by the doctor. Stitched up and cleaned up. We suggested she rest and eat in her room, but she insisted on seeing you, so we’ve seated her at the table should you wish to dine together.”
“Excellent.”
Lysias walked through his home, realizing with a start the odd feeling in his chest was excitement. But of course he was excited. His plans for revenge were within his grasp, truly, for the first time.
He strode into his dining room, a finely appointed formal affair he usually entertained businessmen and diplomats and other influential people at.
Now there was a young woman with light brown hair at his table and he stopped short. She wore a shapeless but comfortable-looking cotton dress one of his staff must have obtained for her. Her face was fresh and she wore no makeup. Her hair was pulled back, much as it had been when she’d been posing as a boy, but it had been brushed rather than left shaggy and unwashed.
She looked like a stranger. A female stranger.
Until she met his gaze with that haughty disdain she’d tried so hard to maintain in the car.Thathe recognized.
“This is a lot of work just to eat,” she said by way of greeting. “Is this what happens when you have so much money you don’t know what to do with it? You have to make simple things into a wasteful production?”
“Perhaps I simply love a production, wasteful or otherwise.” He studied her as he took the seat across from her. Her color was much better, and she didn’t hold herself as though she were in pain. “How are you feeling?” he asked as the staff brought out dinner.
Al watched the food with avid interest. “That doctor, if he really is a doctor, stitched me up. Gave me something for the pain. I’m not supposed to lift anything heavy or go scaling buildings and facing off with men with knives for a few days, but somehow, I will survive.”
Her bland description of events amused him. But not enough to remember the one thing he hadn’t gotten from her. “I’m still waiting for that thank-you.”
She grabbed the fork and the knife on either side of her plate and merely scowled at him before attacking the food angrily. She did not thank him or say anything else.
But he was a patient man. When he wanted to be. He sipped his wine and watched her. She certainly stillmovedlike a young, wild boy. “How many times did you try to escape?”
She hesitated before lifting the next bite to her mouth, decidedly not answering his question.
“My staff will inform me, so you might as well say.”
“Twice.” She stabbed a piece of meat with her fork. “You kidnapping me doesn’t make me too keen on helping you with this whole revenge plot. Taking down a powerful king or no. Payout or no.”
“I saved your life. Brought you to a doctor. I am feeding and clothing you. This is hardly a kidnapping.”
“It’s notnota kidnapping,” she grumbled, gulping from her glass. Though he had spent years on the streets, hehadbeen raised in a palace. As the help’s child, yes, but he had learned how to handle himself at a dinner even before he’d become wealthy, thanks to a friendship with the young royals.
“Table manners,” he muttered. “You have much to learn.” Much work to do if he wanted to leave in a few days. Because for many years, he’d wished to return to Kalyva with a fake Princess Zandra on his arm, a twist of the dagger on top of his decade-long work to undermine King Diamandis on Kalyva.
He’d never been able to find the right woman though, and now that the plans were in place to take Diamandis down, it was the last little piece to the puzzle. A woman with no past, no history that could be unearthed. There was no way to prove, aside from actual DNA, that Al wasnotthe princess.
Yes, luck was definitely on his side once again. Because he was close enough to all his plans that he could risk the bluff. A few days of media circuses and demands before any DNA test could be done.
As long as there was no body found—and Lysias was willing to risk the consequences as all his instincts told him there hadn’t been—he would geteverythinghe wanted. As long as Al cooperated.
So she would.
“I don’t wish to learnanything,” she said petulantly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Somuchwork to do. “This isn’t about your wishes, Alexandra.”
