Darias pulled back and raked a hand through his dark hair. “Gibran thinks that money is the root of most evils. And we know there’s keen interest in that Swiss bank account maintained by the Cross of Blood.”
Gibran cleared his throat loudly.
“Oh, am I not supposed to talk about that openly?” Darias looked around. Even Serena could see that several members of the palace staff were in earshot. And she knew some might be under suspicion based on the conversation outside.
“Mama, I’d like you to meet Serena.”
Serena felt a wave of relief. She’d begun to worry that they were just going to ignore her presence.
Serena shook the older woman’s hand. Sandro hadn’t told her what to call his mom. He hadn’t even said her name. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Are you visiting Altaleone on business or pleasure?” His mom’s question might be an innocent conversational gambit, but Serena froze. What kind of business could she have in Altaleone? But to say she was here for pleasure was tantamount to being Sandro’s royal concubine.
“A bit of both,” cut in Sandro. “She’s never seen Europe before, and I insisted that she start with the most beautiful country of all. She’s a well-known presence on social media and will be making videos and writing blogs about our country. I convinced her to come as I know it will be good publicity for us.”
She found herself smiling. Sandro was obviously much better at thinking on his feet than she.
“And who is this adorable little fellow?” Sandro’s mom petted Lucky, who licked her hand then strained up trying to lick her face.
“This is Lucky, Serena’s dog,” explained Sandro.
“Wonderful. We could all use some good luck right now.” She turned to Serena. “I’m sorry you’re here under such trying circumstances, but I do hope you’ll feel welcome and make yourself at home during your stay. Oh, and do call me Lina.”
“Thank you.” Even though Lina’s words were typical pleasantries, they drew some of the tension from Serena’s shoulders. She truly did seem warm and had shown no signs of shock or dismay at Serena’s arrival.
“We’ll need our bags and Lucky’s things from my house.” Sandro lowered Lucky gently to the floor.
Lina gestured to a blonde male staffer in a pinstriped shirt and gray slacks. “Wilhelm, could you please arrange for everything they need to be brought here today?”
“Certainly, Madam.” He nodded and rushed off.
Serena wondered how the staff felt at having to obey the beck and call of these privileged royals. Though it was really no different than any other job and probably paid a lot better than some.
“Come in and sit down.” Lina smiled warmly at Serena. “I’m sorry you’ve arrived in the midst of a crisis. I’m sure Sandro will still have plenty of time to show you around.”
“No worries,” she said. Then cursed herself for sounding too offhand. She should cultivate an air of respectful formality. She wondered how wrinkled her clothes were from the long plane flight but didn’t dare look down.
Lina led them into a sitting room the size of a basketball court, with brocade sofas and delicate carved wood tables that looked like they belonged in a museum. Ancestors in powdered wigs glared down from the pale yellow walls. A quick glance up at the ceiling revealed that it was painted to look like the sky and populated by plump winged cherubs.
Her family would die of laughter—or of shock—if they could see her right now.
“Serena, would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please.” It seemed polite to accept even though she didn’t really like tea. A girl in a neat uniform appeared with a silver teapot and a delicate cup and saucer on a tray, then filled the tea and added milk and sugar after glancing at her to see if she wanted each one.
Serena took the cup and saucer with trembling hands, hoping she wasn’t about to spill tea on the antique silk rug that must be almost half an acre in size. She glanced nervously around for Lucky and hoped he wasn’t peeing on the leg of a priceless table.
She was just lifting the teacup gingerly to her lips when Lina leaned toward Sandro and whispered—loudly—“You can sleep in your old room. Will Serena be joining you there?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Serena’s teeth clinked against the cup, and tea sloshed dangerously against the rim. She looked anywhere but at Sandro. If they hadn’t been interrupted by his phone they would have made love already this afternoon.
But she didn’t want everyone here in this room to know that.
“Is the room next to mine open?”
“The moonlight room? We hardly ever use that one. Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s not really haunted. That’s just a rumor.” He turned to Serena and winked. “You’re not afraid of imaginary ghosts are you?”
Yes.
“No. At least I don’t think so.” Were they seriously going to put her in a haunted bedroom? Maybe this was Sandro’s way of making sure she didn’t want to sleep alone. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Great.” Lina turned to another staffer—there seemed to be an inexhaustible supply—”Ava, please get the room ready.” Then she looked back at Serena with a warm smile. “It has a connecting door to Sandro’s room if you need anything in the night.”
Serena blinked. This was really awkward! Her parents would be glaring and frowning if she attempted to sleep with a man she wasn’t married to under their roof. Howard had slept on the sofa in the basement when they visited, even after they were engaged.
“I suppose we should get back to more dismal matters,” said Lina with a sigh. “Tell me the truth. Was there a note inside the box with the…” She swallowed hard. “If so, what did it say? Don’t lie to me!”
“There was no note, I’m afraid.” Gibran spoke softly. “We are dusting the box and its contents for fingerprints and other forensic evidence, including DNA, to see if we can determine the sender.”
“What do they want?” Sandro peered up at Gibran. “Why would anyone do this?”
“To rattle us,” growled Darias. “They want us on edge, worrying, wondering what’s going to happen next.”
“Well, that’s certainly working,” said Lina. Her smooth forehead creased. “I don’t think any of us are safe traveling without a security guard, even just to walk to the castle in the village. Is Emma there now?” She glanced at Darias.
“She’s at the local primary school reading to the pupils. You know how much she loves to. I didn’t have the heart to stop her.”
“Emma used to be a teacher before she became queen here,” Lina explained. “I don’t know how we’ll ever go back to feeling normal again. What about that creepy secret society—the Cross of Blood? Could they have something to do with this?” She looked at Darias.
“We can’t rule them out, but from everything they’ve told me—and everything I’ve learned about them—they exist to protect us.”
“Then they’re doing a horrible job of it.” Tears filled her eyes. “I know they’re all important personages, but I don’t see why they can’t all be called onto the carpet to reveal what they know.”
“Gibran thinks,” said Darias, “and I agree, that could be more dangerous than using more subtle methods to investigate them. We’ve managed to figure out the identity of all but two of them.”
“And who are they?”
Darias glanced at Gibran. “We can’t reveal that. Don’t take it personally. There are just too many people around.”
Lina let out a long sigh. “Sometimes I almost feel like a suspect here.”
“You’re not, Mama,” said Darias. “I promise. But in some ways you’re safer the less that you know. Emma was taken because the kidnappers wanted a secret bank account number and passcode from me. If you knew it, you could have been taken and who knows what could have happened.”
“Do you even know the numbers?” Lina peered at him.
Darias mouth settled into a line. He clearly wasn’t willing to a
nswer the question. She turned to Sandro. “Do you know it?”
“No, Mama.” He rubbed her upper arm with his hand. “I’m not in the Cross of Blood. Only members of the society know the details of the ancient trust.”
“Well, that’s a relief. This makes me not want to let Darias out of my sight.”
“I can handle myself, Mama.” Darias lifted his chin. Truth be told, Darias was built much like Sandro and looked as if he could handle an MMA fight more easily than a palace tea party.
“I understand money as a motive, but why would someone kill my husband and his mother?”
Gibran’s brows lowered. “Possibly because they wanted Darias to be king—”
“But why?”
“I ask myself the same question all the time,” said Darias. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Gibran cleared his throat. “Or they want to extinguish the House of Leone completely.”
Lina gasped. “Who would want to do that?”
“Who would stand to gain from it?” asked Gibran.
“No one. Well, unless there was someone who didn’t want Altaleone to have a monarchy anymore. But given how many descendants there are I think they would be on a fool’s errand.”
She sounded brave, but Serena watched her face grow pale as she contemplated the prospect of each of her ten children being picked off, one by one. Serena’s heart squeezed with distress. She couldn’t imagine losing Sandro—and they were still barely more than acquaintances.
“Of course there are antimonarchist dissidents here,” said Darias. “As there are anywhere. But they are usually just people with too much time on their hands who need something to complain about. Our citizens enjoy the highest standard of living in the world, and they know it. There’s no serious groundswell of resistance. Lord knows we’re not interested in ruling anyone with an iron fist.”
“What about business rivals?” asked Gibran. “Perhaps in the diamond industry. That’s a cutthroat field that’s no stranger to international intrigue.”
Darias sighed. “True. We haven’t really considered that angle. We don’t mine the diamonds here. Our gem merchants buy them wholesale and cut them for all of the European markets. We’re second only to Antwerp as the diamond capital of Europe.”
“Is the royal family involved in the diamond business?”
“Absolutely.” Darias looked surprised at Gibran’s question. “It’s our main income producer, even ahead of the vineyards.”
“This angle demands further investigation. I’m going to put one of my team members to work on it immediately. The diamond trade has historically been no stranger to murder and extortion unfortunately. Is there any link between the Cross of Blood trust and the diamond industry?”
They looked at each other in silence. Then Lina spoke. “I’d imagine so. The Cross of Blood dates back to the Middle Ages. The diamond industry goes back even further, to the Roman Empire. It’s likely that the wealth of one filled the coffers of the other.”
“In my homeland, Ubar, ancient grudges may be set aside like a favorite sword, but they are never truly forgotten. We learned that the hard way. We must dust off the history books and search for connections.”
“Beatriz would be good at that,” offered Lina. “She’s always been a history buff. She wrote an illustrated history of the village of Casteleone when she was nine.”
“Where is Beatriz?” asked Sandro. “She’s usually right here with you.”
“I’m not sure.” Lina pulled out her phone and pushed a button. “I called her as soon as the news of the package arrived, and she hasn’t called me back.”
Serena watched Sandro, Darias and Gibran all stiffen and seem to grow a couple of inches taller. “We must find her.” Sandro’s voice cut the air like a knife. “Where did she say she was going?”
Lina frowned. “She took her car out early this morning. I heard her asking one of the staff to tighten the tire chains. She called me to tell me that Sandro was in town but I haven’t heard from her since.”
“So she must have been planning more than a quick trip into the village.”
“Yes.” Lina bit her lip. “And why isn’t she answering? She always answers my calls.”
“I’m sending men out right away to search for her.” Gibran strode from the room, dialing and speaking fast into his phone in a language Serena had never heard before. “I’ll keep you updated. Let me know the instant you hear anything.”
“Oh, dear.” Lina’s voice shook.
“Mama, come sit down.” Sandro put his arm around her and walked her toward a sofa. “No one has died since Gibran came here to help us. Rest assured that he’ll find Beatriz just like he found Emma when she was kidnapped.”
“But why can’t we figure out who’s behind this? It’s even more alarming to think that they could be right under our nose. In this room, even!” She glanced around. The staffers present—Ava removing an abandoned teacup from a table, an older man standing in the doorway and a young girl fluffing a brocade cushion—all seemed to halt in their tracks for a split second. Or maybe she just imagined it.
She couldn’t imagine living her life with this many eavesdroppers. It was a whole different level of exposure than putting a few carefully framed minutes of her life up on YouTube for people to watch.
“When we saw Beatriz this morning.” Sandro sat next to his mom. Serena sat down in an adjacent chair, careful not to spill her tea. “She was in the old village café.”
“How odd.” Lina peered into the distance. “We had breakfast together this morning. Why would she go to the café?”
Serena remembered seeing Beatriz pick up two coffees and a bag of pastries. She must have been buying for herself and someone else. Would she be stepping out of bounds to bring that up? Since it might be a matter of life and death she decided to throw caution to the wind. “When she left the café she had two coffees in take-out containers.”
Lina stared at her. “Two? She didn’t say she was meeting anyone.”
Serena swallowed. “We didn’t see anyone with her, but I suppose she must have been meeting someone.” Why else would you want two coffees? Unless it was finals week in college…but Sandro had said that Beatriz never went to college and her job was basically being a princess.
“Who has she been spending time with lately?” asked Sandro. He looked from his mom to Darias.
Darias shrugged. “Emma might know. She’s spent time with Beatriz.”
“Goodness, I hope it isn’t that dreadful Lorenzo Aldobrando. I almost had a heart attack when he came to the coronation.”
“He was invited, Mama. I was rather wary, given that his family has that ridiculous claim to our lake, but he behaved like a gentleman. Besides, that was months ago. I’m surprised you even remember it.”
“He was flirting with Beatriz, though, wasn’t he? I saw them talking more than once.”
Darias laughed. “I dare anyone to flirt with Beatriz. They’d get their head bitten off.”
“True,” said Sandro. “Could she be with a girlfriend?”
“I don’t think so.” Lina looked up, as if searching her mind. “Her girlfriends from school have all moved off to Vienna or Zurich or Paris for work. You know how it is here.” She wrung her hands. “I’m worried, but I’m reassured by the two coffees. I’m sure she’s just busy with someone.”
“Perhaps a secret lover?” Darias lifted a brow. “I always said Beatriz was a dark horse.”
“Nonsense. Beatriz is an open book,” protested Lina.
“Oh, my goodness.” Serena put her teacup down with a clatter at the sight of Lucky peeing against the curved leg of an ornate chair. “Lucky!”
“Poor thing! We forgot to take him outside for a pee after the drive.” Sandro rose too. “Let’s do it now.”
“I think that might be locking the barn door after the horse has bolted,” said Darias with a wink.
Serena swept Lucky up in her arms and ignored his playful attempts to lick her face
. “Where can I find a cloth to wipe it up?” She’d been afraid something like this would happen. At least it wasn’t on a rug, but the elaborate parquet floor might be ruined if the pee sat there too long.
Sandro laughed. “Are you trying to put our staff out of a job?”
Already a young woman hurried over with a folded towel, and she could see another arriving behind her with a bucket and mop.
Must be nice…
“We’ll just take him out for a breath of air,” explained Sandro to his mom. “We’ll be right back.”
Instead of heading back down the front steps into the grand courtyard, Sandro led her out of the living room by a different door, and across a marble-floored hallway and out into an interior courtyard. The courtyard was larger than most yards in her parents’ suburban neighborhood, with grass—scraped of snow but glittering with ice crystals in the pale late-afternoon sun—and big bronze urns filled with evergreens. She put Lucky down on the crisp frozen grass. The palace rose up around them, all white limestone walls with tall, elegantly proportioned windows.
“This place is huge.”
“It dates back to an era when the royal family had way more servants than we do now, though we rival any eighteenth- or nineteenth-century brood of royal children. Mom jokes that she unconsciously felt the need to have so many kids because of all the bedrooms just begging to be filled.”
“It’s very beautiful.”
“It’s the house that champagne built. One of my ancestors planted acres of vineyards on the hillsides nearby, and just happened to catch a huge wave of champagne becoming popular among the well-to-do across Europe. Our champagne is still considered to be among the finest in the world. The high altitude of our mountains gives it a unique flavor.”
“That’s interesting.” She shivered violently. Would she be a wuss to complain that it was absolutely freezing out here? They hadn’t stopped to put their coats back on. Lucky had wandered off across the grass, following some scent trail.
“You’re cold! I’m sorry. Let’s go inside again. Sometimes we Altaleonians joke that our blood is so hot it never freezes. I think we’re just used to our frigid winters. C’mon, Lucky!”
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