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Lysias stared at King Diamandis, and yet his attention was fractured because Alexandra was acting so strangely next to him. Skittish and tense. Perhaps he should have let her arrive as Al, an identity she was more comfortable with.
But that was ridiculous. How she felt, how comfortable she was, it was all immaterial to his goals. She would be paid handsomely for her subterfuge, and so there was no need toprotecther.
“The rumors are swirling, as you have no doubt ensured,” the king said. “But, as my people have told everyone who has come sniffing thus far, the princess died when the rest of my siblings did.”
It was strange to stand here in what he still considered his homeland, though he’d lived in Athens now longer than he’d been a boy here. Because nothing had changed except the man before him. Who was no longer a boy of fourteen, but now a man. A king.
Twenty years between then and now. Between friends and enemies.
Because Diamandishadbeen his friend. Lysias had considered this man a brother, though he’d known Diamandis’s standing much more important than his own. But Diamandis had never made him feel it.
Until that night.
And Lysias could have forgiven Diamandis much. His own exile, certainly. But he would never forgive the man responsible for his parents’ deaths, without even their dignity in that death. Buried as traitors, accomplices to murder. With nothing.
So Lysias smiled wider. “Ah, yes, and it’s a neat little lie, but itisa lie.” Lysias widened his smile that he did not feel. “I should know. I was there.”
There was a beat where Diamandis looked at him with such cold hatred, Lysias felt the strange need to pull Al behind him. Protect her from the destruction he wanted to enact here.
“You will come to the palace,” the king ordered, with the flick of a wrist. His armed men began to move forward. Toward Lysias. Toward Al. Lysias held on to her.
“We have secured our own accommodations, of course,” Lysias replied with the kind of fake deference that had Diamandis scowling down at him. “Our own transportation as well... But if you’d like to show your sister around the palace, we would be happy to meet you there this evening. Perhaps a nice din—”
“Enough.” Temper flashed on Diamandis’s face, but the manhadchanged in twenty years. Not just moving into adulthood, into being king. It seemed he’d finally learned to control his disastrous temper. “You will come to the palace. We will discuss all of this there. You can come of your own free will, or you can be dragged.” He nodded toward the little army of guards that were even now surrounding them.
Lysias was not surprised. He knew what a threat he was to his oldfriend. Still, he didn’t relish Alexandra being part of this. But she had a role to play. So Lysias’s smile did not change.
Nor did he actthreatened.
“So, you would make us prisoners?” Lysias replied, feigning surprise. “This seems extreme, Diamandis.”
“The appropriate term isYour Majesty, as you well know, Mr. Balaskas.”
“Come, Diamandis. Let us not pretend we don’t know one another. Think of all we have shared.” Lysias thought of it. Too often. And how all his youthful innocence had been betrayed.
“I wish I’dneverknown you,” Diamandis spat. “You may use your own transportation, but have no fear. My guards will accompany you to the palace. Immediately.”
Lysias lifted a negligent shoulder. “If it’s so important to you,Your Majesty, we are happy to oblige.” He even gave a little bow, because he knew Diamandis would see the gesture as flaunting, not deferential.
The king whirled away, muttering something to his guards before he was led back to his vehicle. The guards that remained for him did not bother Lysias in the least, as it all went to plan. He smiled winsomely at the guards, leading Alexandra to where one of his own employees waited next to the car he would use on Kalyva.
She looked perfect here. The dress she wore was elegant but suited for the warm temperatures—the top hooked to the skirt with little ties—offering tempting little glimpses of her golden skin. The hairdresser had done something with her hair so that it curled, looking a bit wild and yet beautifully suited to the smoky makeup on her face.
And he wished he could take her somewhere else. Somewhere decadent and safe where she could...
He blinked at the odd course of his thoughts. There was nowhere else. There was only revenge.
He opened the passenger side door for Alexandra himself, then got into the driver’s side. A heavy-duty car pulled out in front of him, and another waited behind. The king’s little cavalcade.
He flicked a glance at Alexandra as he drove toward the palace. She was staring up the hill at the estate with a furrow across her brow and a frown on her face. He could not say he fully understood her reaction to this place. Was she nervous? Afraid? Having second thoughts?
It did not matter, as he would not tolerate a deviation to his plan. And still the words tumbled out.
“You have been quiet.”
“I don’t like this place,” she said plainly. “Everything gives me a bad feeling, and I have always relied on those feelings to keep me safe. It’s very...unsettling to not be able to listen to them now.”
“Well, there is certainly danger to be found here. And this island—the palace specifically—was the site of many an atrocity. So, perhaps your feelings are valid, but they do not change what we must do.”
