LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

had given her many reasons to need serenity.

      Iliana poked her head out on to the porch, her long red hair swinging around her shoulder. “Why don’t I prepare tea for everyone?” Iliana was her cousin on her mother’s side and officially Serena’s personal secretary. But their relationship went far deeper than boss and subordinate.

      Serena and her uncle had met several times since the massacre. Sometimes they spoke about her father and sister, sometimes about the kingdom and sometimes about nothing of importance.

      Santino sat at the kitchen table. With the curtain open, Serena counted four guards at the back of her house. With her being a potential target for yet unknown reasons, her security team wasn’t taking chances.

      “When are you meeting with King Samuel?” her uncle asked.

      King Samuel had been her sister’s boyfriend and according to Danae, he had been smitten with her. How could Serena put her heart into a relationship that should have been her sister’s? It felt twisted. “He wants to meet tomorrow evening for a dinner party.”

      It was her understanding that others would be in attendance, which should make it less awkward in some ways, more stressful in others. Serena would need to behave and speak in a certain manner. Her every action would be scrutinized and criticized. The media would pick apart her clothing, hairstyle and how she accessorized. Serena dreaded it and promised herself she wouldn’t read their articles, which would undoubtedly accent her every inadequacy and include a snarky review of her love life or lack thereof.

      “You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?” her uncle asked.

      “Not really.” Thoughts of her sister and father kept her awake and on particularly bad nights, she lay in her bed and waited for morning to come.

      Nightmares about the night her family had died, nightmares about the mother she hadn’t had in years and nightmares about her future haunted the little sleep she did have.

      “Still thinking about the man who saved your life?” her uncle asked.

      Sometimes. Often. “Now and then.” Why was she so obsessed with someone she had met once, for no more than a few minutes? If he wanted to be found, he would be.

      What if there was a compelling reason he wanted to remain anonymous to her? He might fear the media response. He might not enjoy the idea of his rescue story being printed in the papers. It was another reason she had to keep her search quiet.

      “Let it go, Serena. You don’t know what you saw. You’ll go crazy if you let this consume you,” her uncle said.

      He had urged her to forget everything she could about that night. Serena wasn’t in any hurry to relive it, although occasionally brief flashes from that night interrupted her thoughts. “I know someone saved me.”

      “And then disappeared. He could have been working with the assassins.”

      “Yet he chose to kill one of them to save me?” It didn’t make sense. Unless her instincts were totally skewed, her protector wasn’t involved in the plot to kill her father.

      “Please let this go, Serena. You will only be hurt again. I can’t stand to see you in more pain. You have enough grief to manage without adding to it. This fixation with him is unhealthy.”

      Maybe she was thinking about her protector because it was easier and far more pleasant to think about him than to think about her father’s and sister’s deaths or how much she missed them. Though she had not lived in the castle and had been happy to have some independence, knowing she could reach out at any time was a comfort. Now, she felt alone.

      Serena’s uncle wished to protect her. But he didn’t need to protect her from the man who’d saved her. Iliana returned to serve the tea and Serena changed the subject. No point in upsetting her uncle who was wrestling with his own grief over losing his older brother and his niece.

      Her uncle left around nine that evening.

      “You’re not giving up on finding the mystery man, are you?” Iliana asked.

      “Not a chance,” Serena said.

      “Why don’t you let me fly to Icarus and speak to DeSante? He knows something about everything and his spies are everywhere. Give me a few minutes alone with him and I can force the information out of him.” She lifted her knee mimicking hitting the dictator in the crotch.

      Serena cracked a smile, rare for her these days. “I don’t think that’s advisable. He has big, scary guards and you’re topping out at five foot two.”

      Iliana set her hands on her hips. “For you, I’d kick his butt. You know I could. I’m pretty mean when I’m angry.”

      Serena loved that about her cousin. She was loyal and spunky and feared nothing. Her business phone rang and Iliana frowned and answered it, her tone professional and cool. “Princess Serena’s office. Iliana speaking. How may I help you?”

      Iliana swore under her breath. “He’s a real piece of work. Hold on.” She pressed a button on her phone.

      Dread coiled inside Serena. “What now? What’s happened?” Was her uncle okay? He had only left a few moments earlier.

      “The coast guard is on the phone. The Icarus navy is preventing ships from entering our waters.”

      Icarus’s navy, one of the fastest, biggest military operations in the region, boasted hi-tech equipment and sailors who came from generations of sailors. They were experts on the water. “What did you say?” Serena asked.

      Iliana repeated her statement, this time slower. Serena had heard her the first time, but she hadn’t fully processed the information. Was DeSante planning to attack? Serena had no military experience. How should she maneuver in this situation? Who should she call? Though she had the ear of the head of the Assembly and she was supposed to wield influence, she was green and DeSante knew it.

      It was dark, but that wouldn’t matter to the experienced Icarus navy. Was DeSante hoping to catch her off guard, ill equipped and scared? The idea incensed her. She might be weak now, but she wouldn’t be for long.

      “Has the coast guard made contact with DeSante? What does he want?” Serena asked.

      “I don’t know, hold on.” After a few moments, she said, “They say they want your confirmation that it’s okay to let boats through.”

      Her confirmation? That made no sense. Icarus wasn’t in charge of screening what boats entered and exited through their waters. Acacia and Icarus had no such arrangement. “What do they really want?”

      Iliana repeated the question into the phone. “He wants to speak to you. He being DeSante, the warlord.”

      DeSante wasn’t exactly a warlord, but he wasn’t a peaceable man either. He had come to be president of his country during a violent coup.

      This was a warning, then, from Icarus. If she refused to speak to him, DeSante would place an embargo on Acacia.

      The dictator of Icarus was playing a dangerous game, mostly dangerous to Acacia with its weaker navy and dependency on imports. If DeSante refused to allow boats into their ports, Acacians would starve. “Put Demetrius DeSante on the line.” She sounded stronger than she felt. She had been avoiding the dictator’s requests for an audience and instead had allowed Iliana to put him off and explain that she’d needed time to grieve. Apparently, that time was over.

      Iliana handed Serena the phone.

      “Good evening,” Serena said, keeping her voice cool and polite.

      “Finally, I have the pleasure of speaking with you,” DeSante said.

      She wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with DeSante. “Let the boats through.”

      “I would be glad to. I am an ally who can secure your western waters from enemies.”

      What a load of crap. Her enemies consisted

Скачать книгу