Betrothed: To the People’s Prince

by Marion Lennox

  She shouldn’t. She should not.

  This was Nikos, taking her to his mother’s to eat baklava as he’d done a thousand times before. The temptation to slip back into that time-that life-was irresistible.

  ‘I’ll…I’ll talk to Mrs Lavros.’

  ‘Already done,’ he said, and called to one of his relatives, who was watching from the top step. ‘Joe, can you ask Mrs Lavros to watch over Nicky-ring me the moment he wakes?’

  ‘Consider it done,’ the man said and disappeared.

  ‘Are you sure you can you trust Joe?’

  ‘He’s my cousin,’ he said and grinned. ‘My father had eight siblings. Half the islanders are my blood relatives.’

  ‘You should so be the prince here.’

  ‘I don’t need to be. Not if you stay.’

  And his hand was still outstretched. He was still waiting.

  Trust wasn’t black and white, she thought. Christa’s birth meant that on a personal level she couldn’t trust this man. But as guardian of this island…as someone she’d hand over the mantle of rule…Yes, she did trust him.

  His hand was still outstretched.

  Trust…It was a relative thing. She could trust a little. Just a little. Starting now.

  Okay. She would.

  She stepped down towards him and put her hand in his and he led the way out of the palace grounds.

  He hadn’t brought a car so they walked as they’d walked so many times before, along the cliff path leading from the palace to the tiny hamlet where Nikos had lived all his life.

  Apart from their disastrous attempt to swim, this was the first time she’d been out of the palace grounds since her arrival. She’d forgotten how beautiful the island was. Or maybe she’d blocked it out, too painful to remember.

  It was picture-postcard perfect. Houses clung precariously to the cliff face. The cliffs seemed to be almost stepped down to the sea, with tiny jetties jutting out into the water at their base. Boats swung at anchor; there were a couple tied up at the jetties. Fishermen were tossing their catch to brawny helpers, loading it into trucks for the local market.

  ‘We should be exporting,’ Nikos said conversationally as they reached the cliff path. She was so aware of his hand holding hers that she could think of nothing else, but he seemed perfectly at ease. ‘This place is alive with fish-we could make a great case for a cannery. As it is, most of the fishermen only catch what the local market can absorb.’

  ‘So what about you?’ she managed. She should tug her hand away. But it felt too right. It felt too…good.

  ‘My boats are bigger. We can take our catch directly to the mainland.’

  ‘Which made you independent of Giorgos?’ His hold was doing strange things to her. She was slipping into the skin of the girl she had once been-the girl she thought she’d left behind for ever.

  ‘Almost,’ he said. ‘Though he was always a threat.’

  That shook her out of her preoccupation. She knew Giorgos’s threats only too well. Should she tell him why she’d left the island all those years ago? Should she share the terror that had made her run?

  Why?

  If she told him…maybe it would make him feel better about her, but it could never alter what she felt in return.

  He was silent beside her. They’d always been able to do this, she thought. Talk when there was a need to talk but otherwise relax with each other so words weren’t necessary.

  Comfortable in each other’s company.

  ‘I do need to get to know Nicky,’ he said finally into the silence, as if this was simply an extension of his thoughts. ‘You realise he’s heir to the throne.’

  She hadn’t thought this through. ‘I guess he is,’ she whispered, and the thought of a grown-up Nicky taking control of these islands was almost overwhelming.

  Maybe she did need to accept the throne. Maybe she had a duty to make these islands safe-for Nicky.

  He should inherit from his father, she thought. And then, she thought, maybe he will. He loves boats. Maybe he’ll own a fishing fleet like his father.

  Maybe he should grow up here. Maybe it was her duty to keep him here.

  There were too many maybes to take in.

  They rounded the bend on the headland and Nikos’s home was in view. And here was another gut wrench.

  Nikos’s family home was a cottage, tucked into the cliff tops, surrounded by scores of craypots in various stages of building or repair. Two wooden boats, both decrepit, lay upside down. Tomatoes were growing between the boats and runner beans were climbing over them. A big wooden table lay under straggly olive trees and a couple of faded beach umbrellas were giving shade to hens. It should be a mess-but Athena drew breath with delight.

  Home.

  And when Nikos opened the back door and ushered her in, the feeling of home became almost overwhelming. The door opened straight into the kitchen. Annia was at the table, her hands covered with flour. She glanced up as Athena entered and gave a cry of delight. Athena was promptly enveloped in a floury hug, as wide as it was sincere.

  How long since she’d been hugged like this? She hugged Annia back and felt tears sting behind her eyes.

  These were her people. This was her island. How could she have walked away ten years ago and not look back?

  She hadn’t had a choice. She’s known it then and she knew it now. But it felt so good to be here.

  ‘She needs feeding, Mama,’ Nikos said. ‘Look how skinny she is. How goes it, sweetheart?’

  For Christa was at the table. She had a pile of dough and was shaping it into balls.

  ‘I’m cooking,’ she told her father proudly. ‘You will like my cooking.’

  ‘I will.’ He swung her out of her chair, hugged her and set her down again, then straddled a kitchen chair and snagged a taste of whatever was in his mother’s mixing bowl.

  Athena looked blindly down at him, still fighting tears. Everyone trusted this man. He loved his family. He could never betray them.

  How could he have betrayed her so badly?

  Something of her emotions must be showing, for Annia was suddenly pulling out a chair and pushing her down.

  ‘You’ve had a terrifying morning,’ she said, peering into her face. ‘Word’s gone right round the island. That Demos…’ She shook her head but she was still looking at Athena. Searching for trouble-and obviously finding it. ‘You’ve had a hard time, my Athena. Ten years of hard time?’

  And then she moved straight to the big question. The one Athena had known would be asked. ‘And…I have a grandson?’ she said tentatively. ‘That’s what they’re saying here. Everyone’s saying it. That your son is also Nikos’s son. I’ve asked Nikos and he says I need to ask you. So I’m asking you. Is your Nicky my grandson?’

  There was no way she could answer this except with the truth. ‘He is,’ she said and she didn’t look at Nikos. She couldn’t.

  ‘Well,’ Annia said, and put her floury hands on her hips. Her bosom swelled with indignation. ‘You bore my grandson and didn’t let us near? You were alone and you didn’t tell us? I would have come. In a heartbeat I would have come.’

  No, you wouldn’t, she thought. You would have been helping Marika with Christa. Two grandchildren within three months. She wanted to yell it at Nikos. Scream it at him.

  But Christa was there, happily moulding dough, and neither she or Annia deserved to be hurt.

  Annia held a special role on the island-royal but not royal. She was Giorgos’s sister. There’d been twenty years’ age difference and mutual dislike between brother and sister, she’d married a fisherman and she’d stepped out of the royal limelight, but she still knew more than most what royalty meant to the islanders.

  She’d have made a good Crown Princess herself, Athena thought as she sat at the kitchen table she’d sat at so many times before. With her earthy good sense-and with her fabulous son who could have stepped into the role as his right.

  ‘Leave her be, Mama,’ Nikos said shortly. ‘It’s
past history. I’m taking Thene and Nicky and Christa…to the Eagle’s Nest.’

  Annia’s face stilled. She looked from Athena to Nikos and back again. And then she smiled.

  ‘To the King’s love nest?’

  ‘Mama…’

  Her smile was broadening. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll forget it’s other name. So…You’re going to the Eagle’s Nest-why?’

  ‘To keep Thena safe until we find a way to control Demos.’

  Her smile faded for a moment. ‘A good idea,’ she whispered. ‘You’ll be safe there.’ And then her eyes twinkled into another smile. ‘And maybe while you’re there you can enjoy it. I was there as a child, with my father, the old King. My Mama showed me their bedroom. It was the closest place to heaven a woman could get, she told me, and it’s one of the only regrets I had in marrying your father-that I never got to sleep in that bedroom.’

  Then, as Nikos looked bemused, she took Athena’s face in her floury hands and kissed her. ‘You make sure you enjoy it,’ she said. ‘And enjoy my oh-so-serious son and make him less serious.’

  ‘I…I’m only staying…’

  ‘Until the island is safe,’ Annia finished for her. ‘How long is a piece of string?’ She smiled. ‘You and Nikos…You and Nikos. I suppose the answer to your problems hasn’t occurred to you?’

  ‘Mama…’ Nikos said again, and his mother kissed him.

  ‘Enough. It’s occurred to me-ever since I heard Athena was coming home it’s occurred to me. And I’m sure it’s occurred to you too, for I’m sure neither of you is stupid. But I will say nothing. So Athena…you want some baklava? It’s almost cooked.’

  ‘I…no.’

  For she was starting to feel overwhelmed. The domesticity. The gentle, loving teasing. The innuendoes of a relationship with Nikos.

  The feeling of being on the outside looking in. She’d hated it all her life and she hated it now.

  Once upon a time she’d thought she could find her own place within this circle. It wasn’t possible, and Annia’s tentative suggestion that she might still was threatening to break her heart.

  Annia and Christa-and Nikos-were gazing at her now with various levels of interest and of concern. She didn’t want their concern.

  She didn’t know what she wanted.

  Or she did but there was no way in the wide world she’d admit it.

  ‘I need to go back to Nicky,’ she said, standing so fast she almost tipped her chair.

  Nikos stood and caught it as it fell. ‘Problem?’

  ‘I…no. I shouldn’t have left him.’

  ‘You know he’s not awake yet.’ He gestured to the phone on his belt. ‘They’d have contacted me.’

  ‘I still need to go.’

  ‘Without baklava?’

  ‘Without anything,’ she said and she sounded desperate, she knew, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. It was like claustrophobia, only worse. This kitchen table, this man, this family…They were a dream she’d had since she was eight years old, and twenty years on she wasn’t one step closer to achieving it. And now she’d be trapped on this island for heaven knew how long, still on the outside looking in.

  She felt sick and sad and empty.

  ‘Thena, don’t look like that,’ Nikos said, and her eyes flew to his and held. He looked…He looked as if he really cared.

  He looked as he’d looked when she’d loved him.

  She had to get out of here. Now.

  ‘I’ll walk you home,’ he said as she backed to the door. Annia and Christa were looking at her with concern and confusion. They might well be confused, she thought. She was so confused she might as well share.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered to Annia. ‘We messed it, Nikos and I. But please…don’t hope. Don’t tease. It’s too late to heal it. You know I should have no right to the throne. My rights are an accident of birth. It’s you and Nikos…It should be you and Nikos. I’ve just got to figure a way around it. Thank you, Annia. Thank you for everything. And I’m so sorry.’

  And she walked out of the cottage before they could say a word. She closed the door and she started to run.

  ‘You should go after her.’

  Nikos stared at the closed door and his mother’s voice came as if from a long way off. ‘She doesn’t want me.’

  ‘I think she does.’

  He shook his head. ‘She left, Mama. Ten years ago she left, and she had my son and didn’t tell me. She’s strong and independent and willful. And she wants to pursue her career.’

  ‘She doesn’t look like a woman whose career is everything.’ She hesitated. ‘Nikos, can I ask…? Maybe I should have asked this ten years ago. I did think of asking…but I knew it was none of my business. But now…When I see Athena so distressed…You and Marika…’ She paused. ‘Why did you and Marika marry before a Justice of the Peace and not a priest?’

  He frowned. ‘Marika was pregnant.’

  ‘Father Antonio would still have married you.’

  ‘Neither of us wanted to be married in the church.’

  ‘I know that,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘We were upset about it-Marika’s mother and I. But you were both adamant. Why were you so adamant?’

  ‘Mama, enough. There are so many arrangements to make…’

  ‘Of course there are,’ she said softly. And then she smiled. ‘Christa, what is it that you’re making?’

  ‘A lady,’ Christa said. The dough now had a small blob, a bigger blob underneath, two arms, two legs and what might have been a skirt.

  ‘That’s lovely,’ Annia said and beamed. ‘You make yourself a lady. Nikos, you go and make one safe. And if you can make both of you happy in the process…It’s time Father Antonio was put to work.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY took the limousine again, only this time Nikos was driving. Nicky and Christa were delighted to see each other-far too immersed in the novelty of each other to notice scenery. Athena had her nose against the window the whole way.

  She and Nikos had been here before-as kids they’d explored most parts of the island, both on foot and on the back of a saddle-tough pony-but they’d never got past the gates of the Eagle’s Nest. The gates were twelve feet high and padlocked, with locks big enough to deter the most intrepid of explorers. Mind, a twelve feet high fence wasn’t actually what had stopped them. What had stopped them was the pack of dogs left loose to roam the grounds at will.

  ‘So…um…where are the dogs?’ Athena asked nervously as the gates swung open at their approach.

  ‘There was only one left when Giorgos died,’ Nikos said over his shoulder. ‘The old groundsman took him home with him. He says he’s turned out to be a pussycat. Do you think you can be royal without killer Dobermans?’

  ‘I’ll try,’ she said magnanimously, and found herself smiling. Despite the trauma of the morning, despite the confusion of her visit to Annia, suddenly there was a frisson of excitement. She felt eight years old again, nose pressed against the twelve foot gate-and suddenly the gate swung open.

  ‘Cool, isn’t it?’ Nikos said, and it was as if he’d guessed her thoughts. ‘The place has always been kept in readiness for a royal visit of up to a dozen guests. So there should be room for us.’

  ‘We’ll need four bedrooms,’ she said as a knee-jerk reaction. He met her gaze in the rear-vision mirror and grinned. And there it was again. That smile. Pure mischief.

  The smile of the Nikos she’d once known…

  They drew up before the main entrance. Here again were servants. Two servants.

  Joe and Mrs Lavros from the palace.

  ‘I figured we’d go with staff we know,’ he told her.

  ‘I can make my own bed and we can make our own sandwiches,’ she said, lightness fading. ‘Why do we need anyone?’

  ‘I need Joe,’ he said flatly.

  Once again he met her gaze and the message was unmistakable. Her lightness faded. Joe. Nikos’s cousin. Big, burly and totally dependable. Security.

&n
bsp; ‘And Mrs Lavros makes baklava just like Mama does,’ he said. ‘No aspersions on your cooking, Princess…’

  ‘You think I can’t cook?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘Mama makes great hamburgers,’ Nicky said, leaping to her defence. Then he hesitated. ‘One day last winter we made…bak…bakla…what you were just talking about…’

  ‘Let’s not go there,’ Athena said hurriedly. Nikos grinned-and Nicky grinned with him-and she suddenly had two guys with identical smiles and it was doing her head in.

  ‘So how did your mama’s baklava turn out?’ he asked.

  ‘We ate it with spoons,’ Nicky said, still grinning. ‘It was good but it didn’t look like the picture in the recipe book. And Mama had to spend half an hour scrubbing honey off the oven.’

  ‘I rest my case,’ Nikos said, opening the door of the car. ‘Mrs Lavros is here to stay. Okay, kids, it’s yours to explore.’

  The kids and Oscar tumbled out of the limousine. Mrs Lavros and Joe smiled a welcome and took themselves off, and they were alone on the steps of a fairy tale. Two kids, two adults and one dog. Her family, Athena thought, and then stomped on the thought and concentrated on this truly excellent building.

  It was a true fairy tale castle. Built two hundred years ago by a mad monarch with delusions of grandeur, all white stone, turrets and towers, it was like a sugar confection, a magic, secret fantasy.

  ‘Wow,’ Nicky breathed, awed. He was standing dumbstruck, staring upwards, seeing a white flag with blue stars and pale yellow stripes fluttering from the battlements. ‘What’s the flag for?’

  ‘It means the Crown is in residence,’ Nikos said.

  ‘The Crown…’

  ‘That would be your mother. Welcome to the Eagle’s Nest, Princess.’

  ‘Don’t…don’t call me that.’

  ‘We don’t have a choice,’ he said. ‘It’s time you acknowledged it. This is your place, Princess. You’ve come home.’

  It was fabulous. The more they saw…it was more and more wonderful. The kids whooped through the castle with joy and wonder, and Nikos thought he’d been right to bring them here. He’d been right to include Christa.