by Maggie Ryan
“What does that mean?”
“You dress like men.” Laughing, Baal held his arm out to me in a gentlemanly fashion. “Come, my lady.”
My skirts swished back and forth as I walked to meet him. “How positively archaic of you, Baal.”
Giving a laugh, Baal looked me over, saying, “You are a lovely woman, Cassandra. This dress complements your beauty perfectly. Deo has good taste.”
“I like my suits,” I repeated, adjusting the tight fabric of the top with my free hand. I relaxed a bit, sure that my phone was securely hidden just below my cleavage. Leading me down the long passageway, Baal continued to playfully tease me.
We reached the end of the hall. Gliding down the winding grand staircase leading to the main foyer, I felt like I was in a fairy tale. Though, I wasn’t sure yet how this one would turn out. Like the gruesome tales from the Brothers Grimm, or the stories in the Disney movies I’d watched as a child?
Waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, Deo looked dashing in his crisp white button-down shirt and charcoal gray suit. Taking my hand, he bowed, kissing it gently. “My dear, you have a divine beauty.”
“As do you,” I replied shyly. My husband had never looked as good as he did tonight. He wore a belt that I’d never seen before. The leather was as black as India ink, which set off the large, ornately carved silver-hued buckle in the center. Glancing at Baal, I realized he wore a similar belt though his was of a reddish-brown leather. Before I could discern if the buckles were the same, Deo took my arm and we walked toward the room off the main hall.
“Our little dining room,” Deo said with a chuckle, gesturing at the grand space that held a table surrounded by at least fifty wooden chairs, all carved with elaborate patterns. The polished table shone under the light of a row of three crystal chandeliers. Huge intricately embroidered tapestries depicting the four seasons hung from the walls. At the end of the hall, a fire roared in an ostentatious fireplace that was gilded in what looked to be solid gold.
As I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, I turned to see Alekos, beginning to stand from his seat at the table.
“Alekos!” Forgetting everything, I dropped Deo’s arm and ran to him. Alekos pushed back his chair just in time to catch me in a big hug.
“Cass,” he said, kissing my cheek. Holding me at arm’s length, laughing, Alekos proclaimed, “What has my brother done to you? Is this,” he gasped dramatically, “pink?” Hand around his throat, Alekos pretended to be dying. “Where is the black, the gray, the killer lady heels?”
For the first time in almost a day, I could give a genuine laugh. I did a little twirl for Alekos. “You like?” I asked. My skirts flared out around me, swishing against my skin before falling perfectly into place as I came to a stop.
“Of course. Your beauty is unmatched. You could make wearing a flour sack look good.” Alekos kissed my cheek again. “It’s so good to see you, little sister.”
Born the same year, Alekos was two months older than me, and ever since my wedding day, loved to tease that he was now my big brother. Being a full head taller than me, having the same muscular build as his brother, Alekos looked the part.
His tanned skin glowed against his white muscle tee shirt, tucked into jeans and a light brown belt with a similar buckle to the others. Brown eyes twinkled with laughter, framed by medium length, curly caramel hair. Alekos’ easygoing nature, infectious grin, and constant laugh made everyone he met an instant friend. Hiding his brilliance below the surface, Alekos never took anything too seriously, except when it came to his family.
Though Alekos and Deo were opposites, they were as close as two brothers could be. Deo took on the protective older brother role, having practically raised Alekos himself after their parents’ sudden death.
I not only loved being around Alekos because of his jovial nature, I enjoyed the changes I saw in Deo when he was in Alekos’ presence. He was calmer, quicker to smile, more likely to tell a joke. I glanced over to Deo, enjoying the peaceful smile that rested on his face.
Walking over to Alekos and me, Deo tousled Alekos’ curls affectionately. “Okay, children, let’s eat,” he said with a wink. “Aunt Margaret will be upset if we let her good food get cold.”
“You have an Aunt Margaret?” I asked curiously. I had never heard of such a woman.
“We have a lot of—extended family—you could say, in Greece. Many have been called in for… we will get to that. First, we dine.”
Holding out the chair to the left of the head of the table, Deo looked to me. I quickly slid in, noticing that Draco had silently appeared to take the seat directly across from me. Baal took the seat next to Draco, and Alekos, the seat next to mine. Sliding his arms out of his jacket and draping it on the back of his chair, Deo took the chair at the head of the table.
A small woman with olive skin and dark hair heavily streaked with gray shuffled into the room. She was carrying a heavy-looking tray, but when Baal stood to assist her, she shooed him away. “I got it, I got it,” she spoke through a thick accent, then added a few Greek words I had never heard Deo utter before.
“Cusses like a sailor,” Alekos leaned in, whispering to me. I stifled a laugh as the slight woman gave me a disapproving look.
“Aunt Margaret, Cassandra. Cassandra, Aunt Margaret,” Deo said, introducing us with a wave of his hand.
“You don’t get in my way, girly, and we will be just fine,” she said grumpily, placing the tray on the table with a thump. Pushing up her tortoiseshell horn-rimmed glasses to the bridge of her nose, she wandered out of the room, muttering to herself.
“I think she likes you,” Alekos jibed.
“Don’t bet on it,” I said after the older woman departed. I looked over the tray she had delivered. The smell of the roasted lamb hit my senses and made me realize how hungry I was. The salad I had picked at during lunch seemed like days ago.
Deo took a white china plate from the stack beside him and piled it with the lamb, pita bread, and tzatziki sauce. He handed the first plate to me. It took all my self-control to wait until each person had been served before I dug into the delicious meal.
“Slow down,” Alekos joked. “You’re going to ruin that new dress.”
Sure enough, I looked down to see a trail of tzatziki running down my bodice.
Reaching across the table, Draco handed me a cloth napkin. He had wet the corner in a glass of water.
“Thank you,” I murmured, dabbing at my dress. Clinking of forks on plates was the only sound as we all ate. I wasn’t the only hungry one.
Aunt Margaret came stumbling back out, this time with a platter of baklava. She slammed it down next to Deo, demanding, “Where is Xander? Why must he always be late? Huh?” Without waiting for an answer, she shuffled back to where the kitchen must be.
Deo looked to Baal, an amused look on his face. “Where is baby boy?” he asked, taking a sip from the heavy crystal goblet in front of him.
It appeared that he not only functioned as the king’s protector, Balthazar was also the ‘keeper of the Greeks’ as he seemed to oversee everyone’s comings and goings. I listened for his reply.
“Xander will arrive in the morning. Traveling from Turkey to New York takes a bit longer than from Greece.”
Nodding approvingly, Deo said, “Then everyone will be here. We will meet in the morning.” Turning to me, Deo placed a reassuring hand on mine. “Then everything will make sense. I promise.”
“You mean, things will start making sense, my brother,” Alekos teased. “There is much to learn.”
There was no way I would make it to the morning without at least knowing a hint of what was going on, especially when the brothers both mentioned the need to learn. “May I just ask you gentlemen a few questions?” I began. Immediately, Deo gave me ‘the look.’ The one that said, ‘be quiet’. The look I usually ignored and pressed on, sometimes just to push his buttons. Tonight, I held my tongue.
“Good girl,” Deo said with a wink, m
uch to my embarrassment. I peeked up to see how the other men had taken my admonishment. Draco gave me a smile but I couldn’t decide whether it was meant to support Deo’s praise of me—if you could call it that—or if the man was simply amused. The others all acted as if living in a castle with a fake princess and her domineering king was entirely normal to them. In fact, these men looked more at home here and out of place in the real world.
Their beauty blended perfectly with the medieval architecture and rich décor. The way they carried themselves, their chivalry and impeccable manners seemed to fit in a place of another time.
“Just one little question.” I turned to Alekos to block the warning look from Deo that I knew was coming. “What’s with the belts? You guys like to match? Is it like best friend necklaces?” I teased.
Alekos let out his infectious laugh. “Yes, we are, in that way, a bit like adolescent girls. We like to match. Though each belt is a bit different.”
“I’ve noticed the colors, but are the buckles different as well?” I had noticed Draco wore one of a deep chocolate brown, and had wanted to get a closer look all night, but they were worn in a rather precarious position to allow checking them out on such handsome men. Assumptions would be made of me.
Alekos unbuckled his, carefully sliding it through the denim loops, then handed it to me. The leather was soft and supple, a light, tawny brown. I examined the belt closely. From the weight of the buckle, I knew that instead of the silver I had originally thought it made of, it was platinum, a rarer, heavier metal. Engraved in the buckle was an intricate picture. The oval held a wooded scene. Looking closer, I mused, “It’s the castle.” I could see the same entrance that we had driven under this afternoon.
As I continued to study the artwork, I could see the faint outline of a man in the woods. There amongst the trees was a small carving of a wolf. His posture, the way he stood it was as if he was protecting the man. The work was so well done, so lifelike, I found myself waiting to see his chest moving beneath his fur as he took a breath. Running my fingertip over the engraving, my entire body tingled as if I’d touched a live wire. It didn’t hurt, but was enough to have my breath catch in my throat.
“It’s absolutely beautiful,” I said, handing the belt back to Alekos. As he took it from me, I saw a silver glint shine from his wrist. It was Deo’s bracelet.
Reaching out and touching it with my finger that was still a bit prickly, I said, “I thought Deo had given his bracelet to Baal when he came to get me. Why do you have it?”
“We all have one,” Alekos answered.
I inspected each of the men’s wrists from where I sat, and they did all have the same bracelet. How had I missed that?
“Just another matching token. Not unlike the friendship bracelets you probably had in grade school,” Baal interjected.
Before I could ask if there was a meaning behind the engravings on their belt buckles, Deo’s deep voice practically echoed through the great hall. “Enough questions for one night.” He gestured at my plate, raising a brow to me. “Eat.”
No longer hungry in all the excitement, and knowing these tokens were nothing like the childish adornments of string or yarn I’d worn as a child, I took a little nibble of a triangle of pita.
“A real bite,” he growled.
This public discipline routine was going to get old quickly, but not wanting to draw even more attention to myself, to Deo’s obvious pleasure, I took a much larger chunk of the bread into my mouth, chewing slowly. Still, my need to have some piece of control over my life, no matter how small, nagged at me. Giving Deo an innocent look, I said, “Can you please pass the baklava?”
Deo placed his elbows on the table, clasping his hands and pointing those index fingers at me. “Dinner first, princess,” he said.
My face burned with frustration, but I didn’t argue. To my further dismay, I could sense Baal laughing at me from his place across the table.
When I had taken a few bites of lamb, Draco lifted the silver server from the dessert platter and picked the largest triangle of baklava, carefully placing it onto a clean spot on my plate.
“Thank you,” I murmured. Taking a bite, I willed myself not to moan aloud. It was the perfect combination of flaky and chewy, with just a touch of sweetness.
Eating commenced and everyone was silent. I think they were afraid to speak in front of me, for fear of releasing information they did not yet want me privy to. As I was polishing off my treat, and deciding if it was okay for a princess to lick her fingers, my chest began to sing. Taylor Swift cried out the lyrics to Blank Space.
“Oh, geeze,” I murmured. Lifting my chin and acting as if this was how I carried my phone every day, I reached down into my bodice, struggling to retrieve it from beneath my cleavage, and silenced the ringer. I placed the phone down beside my plate, looking sheepishly at Deo.
His eyes were not on mine. They were boring into Draco and Baal.
“Why does she have her phone?” he demanded.
“Don’t look at me,” Baal said, hands in the air. “I was just supposed to get her here.”
“My apologies,” Draco said, his eyes on mine. “An oversight on my part.”
The fury in Deo’s voice was chilling as he turned his gaze to me. “Cassandra, have you contacted anyone?”
“No,” I said innocently.
Deo leaned in toward me. “Has anyone contacted you?” he asked in a menacing voice even as his eyes dropped to the phone.
My husband obviously knew that, as a lawyer, I fully believed withholding information still constituted truth. However, as the evidence was only a push of a button from being revealed, I decided full disclosure would be a better choice. “Just Cynthia. She called and I had to answer.” I looked at Deo, pleading my case.
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing really.”
“What. Did. You. Tell. Her.” Each word of the question was bitten out in a fashion that told me any attempt of lessening the offense was useless.
I spoke quickly to get the words over with. “I don’t remember exactly, but it wasn’t much. Something about a bit of trouble but that everything was fine.” My pause was met by eyes that flashed the message that he wasn’t satisfied with my answer. “Oh, and, um, she did say she was going to call the cops if she didn’t see my face in the next twenty-four hours, but—”
Immediately, Deo interrupted, “Do you know what you’ve done? You have put your friend in danger.” Snapping his fingers at Baal, Deo said, “Go.”
Baal gave a short nod and hurriedly left the room.
“What is going on, Deo?” I cried out. “Cynthia doesn’t know anything, I promise.”
Standing at the head of the table, Deo rested his weight on his hands on the surface. “Upstairs, now,” he growled. “To your room.”
I had no words. Deo had never raised his voice to me, and yet with that order, that growl, he might as well have shouted at the top of his lungs. Unshed tears stinging my eyes, I threw my napkin in my plate and left the table. My skirts made the stupid swishing noise as I rushed across the hall and up the grand stairs.
Immaturely, I slammed my bedroom door and threw myself across the bed. Someone had come in and cleaned it during dinner, hanging all the dresses back up. Perhaps that’s why Margaret and I hadn’t gotten off on the right foot. She had most likely done the cleaning.
As my mind was traveling in a downward spiral over the horrendous end to the evening, there was a quiet, polite knock at the door.
“Come in,” I called, drying the moisture from my eyes.
“You come out,” Draco’s calm voice replied.
Climbing down from the bed, I straightened my dress, twisting my bodice back into place. Smoothing my hair as I walked over to the door, I opened it to reveal the dragon.
There was kindness in his brown eyes. A smile played at his lips as he gazed over me.
“Will Cynthia be okay?” I asked, worried.
“Yes. We will protect he
r. Baal is on the way to collect her as we speak.”
Looking Draco over, my mind played over the scene in the car where he had forcefully buckled my seatbelt. This man was not going to be messed about by my actions. If he had wanted my phone, he would have taken it from me. “Why didn’t you take my phone?” I demanded.
Crossing his arms over his crisp white shirt, Draco looked at me. “I knew you would work better with Cynthia here.”
The fact that he didn’t even hesitate to answer surprised me. Though it was obvious that Deo had said something about not wishing me to have my phone, aware that I’d think nothing of contacting Cynthia, it was now just as clear that Draco hadn’t agreed. Maybe I had a friend here. A friend who would give me information.
“I would work better if I knew what we were doing in the first place,” I muttered.
“All in good time.” Draco cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I got you into trouble. I thought you would be a bit more discreet,” he said, his eyes resting on my overflowing bodice, “with the phone. My plan was to let you contact Cynthia, then gather her and take the phone from you, and explain to Deo later.”
“Well, thanks for nothing,” I said. “I don’t think Deo is very happy with me right now.”
“You will survive,” Draco said, with a knowing look in his eyes. “I will see you in the morning, Cassandra, daughter of Priam.”
“What’s left of me,” I groaned under my breath. An unexpected laugh came from Draco. It was short and barely detectable, but it was a laugh, a beautiful sound. Despite the storm that I knew was coming, I smiled, and Draco smiled back.
“Sweet dreams,” he said, disappearing down the dark hall.
Only seconds after I had shut the door, it banged back open, an angry Deo filling the frame.
Chapter Seven
Cassandra
“Cassandra.”
Deo stepped into the room, his livid presence making him seem larger than life.
I moved away from him, to the center of the room. “Deo, I can explain.”
