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But because she enjoyed it, and it added a regal air to the whole facade, she sat down and did her hair and makeup just as Lysias’s staff had taught her. A few days’ practice was hardly enough to make her an expert, but she managed well enough.
Then she studied her face, her profile, then straight on.Didshe look like Diamandis? Maybe something in the way their eyes were situated on their face. And the color, sure, but many people had dark brown eyes.Obviously, they weren’t actually related, but clearly, Diamandis had not fully refused the possibility out of hand.
When she returned to the main room of their quarters, she found them empty. And simply stood for odd moments of... What was this feeling? It camped out in her chest and moved into her throat. As if she might cry.
Which she wouldnotdo.
She sucked in a breath and focused. She was to face King Diamandis alone. She had thought Lysias would be with her at least until they got to the dining room, but no matter. She often worked alone. Shealwaysworked alone. It would be better. She could handle this how she saw fit.
Without worrying so much for Lysias’s approval.
She frowned at the voice in her head speaking truths she did not wish to acknowledge. Poking at feelings so deep and foreign and new, the thought of parsing through them was...terrifying.
So she straightened her shoulders and marched out into the hall. A guard stood there and bowed when she emerged.
“Miss. The king wishes for you to join him for breakfast. I will accompany you to the dining room.”
Alexandra smiledprettilyat him, just as Lysias had taught her to. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
The guard led her through the palace. It was a long walk to the dining room. “Why are there so many armed men within the palace?” Al asked, as much out of curiosity as anything. No doubt Lysias already knew the answer, but she hadn’t thought to ask him yet.
“We protect the king.”
“Yes, but couldn’t you protect him outside? Isn’t it usually some kind of...butler or some such that leads prisoners—oh,dear, I mean guests—about the palace?” She smiled at the guard and watched the expression on his face, but it did not change at the word “prisoner.” Either he thought she was being foolish enough to ignore, or he was just comfortable with her actually being a prisoner. Al supposed it didn’t matter which one.
“We protect the king,” he repeated, rather robotically. He led her to yet another huge pair of double doors and opened them before pointing her inside.
It was a huge room, with a long, long table at the center. At the very end sat the king. Al knew she should forget about being put in Lysias’s parents’ quarters yesterday, but she found she could not. Nor could she ignore the fact this man had exiled Lysias at the age oftwelve. Even if he’d been only a few years older himself.
Clearly, King Diamandiswasthe villain Lysias made him out to be, and so she would win this little round of make believe. For Lysias.
Because he had called her an avenger, and she would avenge the little boy he’d been. Treated so cruelly by thisking.
Do you really think that will make him love you?
Love. What had she ever known of love? Nothing. So it was foolish to think on it at all. She was savvy enough to know that sex did not equal love, even if she’d never engaged in the act before.
Men were pigs, after all. The one sitting at the table inspecting her like a bug was chief among them.
“Shall I sit down here so we can shout across the room to each other?” Al called out, smiling a bit at the way her voice echoed in the large room.
Though it was quite a way down the line, she saw the king startle a bit. Clearly not expecting her voice to boom across the tall, grand arched ceilings.
“There is a seat for you down here,” Diamandis replied, and while his voice was commanding, it didn’t seem to echo quite the way hers had.
So, Al made her way down the long table, taking in everything. The richness of the wood, the way the art in here depicted feasts of days gone by. The soaring windows with their beautiful views out to the sea.
When Al finally found the place that had clearly been laid out for her, she made sure to lower herself as gracefully as possible into the plush seat. She fixed the sweetest smile on her face. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “What is he promising you?”
“No pleasantries, then? Ah, very well. I believe he’s promising me a lifetime of commitment,” Al replied blandly. She lifted her engagement ring and allowed it to sparkle in the light streaming in through the window before she studied the spread before her. Platters of food—pastries, breakfast meats, yogurts and such were laid out with little tongs. There were also pitchers of juice, a pot of coffee. Such choices. She supposed it paid to be the king.
“May I?” she asked.
The king’s expression became more and more thunderous, which Al could admit brought her some petty joy. She didn’t wait for his permission. She poured herself some coffee from the ornate pot. She helped herself to a little of everything laid before her and vowed then and there that no matter how much money she had after her payout, she would always be grateful for food without worry.
“You will be found out. I am aking. I realize our country is small and not well known. That many in the outside world consider us so old-fashioned that we have no power, but I have the power to find the truth about you. And destroy you.”
