“If you prefer full retirement, you’ve more than earned it. But I’d hate to lose your stellar skills and experience.” Gemma squeezed his hand and cleared her throat. André smirked. “We’d hate to lose you.”
Stefano maintained his unreadable expression, one he’d mastered over years of guarding the royal family. First his father, then André. “Stay Head Royal Guard, with twelve weeks’ vacation to use whenever I choose. All vacations and travel paid for by the royal family, funding to hire personnel to maintain my inherited estate overseas, and a private residence off palace grounds.”
“To be shared with…whomever you choose.” André raised his eyebrows. By now, word had spread throughout the palace staff that Stefano and Cataline were in love, a celebrated joining by everyone. “Either route you choose, all of the above is covered by the royal family. With our sincerest thanks. All you have to choose is whether or not to keep the title.”
He expected at least half a smile from his devoted bodyguard, but the man didn’t. He glanced back out the window, surveying the crowds. He didn’t speak again until they drove under the Royal Square stone archway and around the long circle drive to the palace steps. The stairs were lined with Solanian soldiers arcing their swords over the light blue runner leading to the doors. Royal guardsmen in full dress uniform held Solanian flags in the same manner.
The white carriage pulled away ahead of them, and from inside the Rolls, they could see Alanna and Flynn standing at the massive doorways, waving to the crowd. André and Gemma exited the vehicle and climbed the steps to join them. The breeze had picked up in strength, and Gemma’s dress danced against her legs. They waited through a few more minutes of waving and smiling, letting the bright sun shine across the plaza, a signal for a new beginning for all of Solana.
When inside, the staff stopped their preparations for the royal reception and bowed to their new queen. André imagined Alanna’s face probably hurt from smiling so much. The gratitude and humility in her eyes was so great.
Stefano caught his eye. “Your Highness, if I may have a word in private.” He had that look. Something was off. It set André’s instincts on edge. Whatever his request, it wasn’t royal related. Otherwise, he would have insisted on waiting for Alanna’s presence as well.
He kissed Gemma’s cheek. “I’ll be right back, mi amor.”
She nodded and smiled, but he could see her concern in the wrinkles by her eyes.
He led the way to the private drawing room on the other end of the wing. Two guards waited outside the room as the doors closed. Stefano’s forehead creased, and he stood eerily still by the door.
“What is it, my friend?” André touched his shoulder.
He’s here to decline my offer. The man was torn up inside about disappointing the royal family. But he’s more than earned his freedom.
Stefano reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Black, with gold trim.
“I’ve kept my promise. Today it is fulfilled. With you.”
ANDRÉ EYED THE BLACK BOX. Whatever it was, this had been weighing on Stefano for a while. “What promise?”
Stefano strangled a sigh, a similar one from months ago when he gave the news that King Rodrigo had been killed.
“On the day of your exile, your father called me into his chambers and gave me this, with strict instructions.”
André crossed his arms over his chest, bracing his fist against his chin. That day was the last he’d ever spoken to his father. They were filled with words of anger and hatred. Something he’d regretted every moment since. I’d give anything to hear him again. Apologize for my wrongs. Hear him say he’s proud.
“I was to guard you with my life,” Stefano continued, his voice hitching. “Which I have. But he gave me one more charge with equal importance.”
André listened hard, pressing on his chin.
“At any point you show a selfless act of ultimate worth—your true nature—and honor the Peralta name, I was to give you this.”
André took the box, having a hard time hiding his shaking fingers, and opened it.
A hefty silver ring. A golden hawk’s head in the middle with an ammephire eye. Its silver wings wrapped around the metal. Father’s ring.
Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.
“Upon such a moment, your forgiveness would be granted and your exile reversed.”
André’s head shot up, and he stared at Stefano. “What?”
“Your father loved you. He held the highest hopes you would find your way, even then.” Stefano’s voice cracked. “Exiling you ripped him apart as much as it did you. He wanted you to have a way to return home, despite the royal decree. Which is why he kept it secret, with only my knowledge.”
A thousand emotions swirled in his heart, but none of them would solidify or take the forefront.
“Every morning, I prayed would be the day you’d show me. Show the world who you really were. Yet, your grief and self-doubt kept you from achieving that. Until Gemma.”
André clenched his jaw.
“When you met her, you woke up. Your noble side burst through, and you stopped doubting yourself. The things you’ve achieved since are incredible. I was so proud to see it…witness it firsthand. Not just pride in my royal prince but as…” His gasp was small, but unmistakable. “A father to a son.” He pursed his lips. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I would never dream of filling the place of your father. Such an idea is inappropriate.”
André shook his head, but not sure to which part. Words wouldn’t form.
“But then at the hospital, you gave up the fight for the throne so quickly…it broke me.”
“I wasn’t giving it up,” André cut in. “I was letting the people have their choice.”
“I understand, Your Highness. That was your selfless moment.” The declaration hung in the air between them, flooding the room with gravity. “Your true nature, your ultimate worth…but I was too devastated to recognize it then.” His sigh was shaky. “I was too blinded by looking at you as a son…not as my ruler. I didn’t want you to give up your chance at the throne. I wanted you to have what I thought you deserved.”
His admission filled André with a mixture of sadness and pride. Pride that Stefano cared that much for him, to see him as a son. See him for himself, and not as royalty. Yet, sadness seeped in, that he’d been kept from his home all these years without knowing such a stipulation existed.
But that would have destroyed the point.
All these years, Stefano had been his way home.
The man struggled to get the next words out, plastered all over his crunched face and glassy eyes. “But because I waited, stuck in my own blindness, it is now your sister that has ascended…and not you.”
André blinked. “That’s why you’re upset?”
“Perdóname, Your Highness.”
Tossing protocol to the wind, he threw his arm around Stefano’s shoulder and hugged him. The gesture was clearly unexpected and awkward for the staunch bodyguard, but he finally relented and hugged back.
“I’m alive because of you. I’m home, back with my family, because of you. What in the world is there to forgive?”
Stefano’s arm wrapped tighter around his shoulder.
“I can never fully repay you for everything you’ve given me.” André swallowed hard. “You, more than anyone, know how much that throne weighed on my conscience. Even before the exile. The right Peralta wears the crown now. Do not ever doubt that.”
Stefano pulled back and adjusted his uniform. He cleared his throat and adjusted André’s metal collar. “Your father always believed in you. As do I. It’s important you know that.”
André traced his thumb across the ring’s golden hawk. He pulled it from the box and slipped it on his right ring finger. “All I ever wanted was his forgiveness…his approval.”
Stefano’s breath of relief filled the room. “You’ve always had it.”
“But nothing ever overrides a royal decree.”
Stefano paused. “Except a father’s love. Even after death.”
The ring’s warmth seeped into his hand, and he savored the feeling. As though it was his father’s soul, holding his heart. Finally, he whispered, “Thank you, Stefano.”
Someone knocked on the door. Quintana entered. “Pardon the interruption, Your Highness. Mr. Damon Ward and Ambassador Tom Willows are here. They have an update for you and Her Majesty.”
“This can’t wait until after the coronation reception?”
“They claim you’ll both want to hear this. Right now.”
“Our highest congratulations, Your Majesty.” Tom Willows bowed to Alanna as she entered the room, the crown still fixed to her head. She smiled in return, although Gemma could tell it was much cooler than her real one. If Alanna didn’t trust these dignitaries, Gemma wouldn’t either.
“Please make this quick, Ambassador. We have several appointments before the coronation reception.”
Willows stepped out of the way to allow Damon Ward to pay his respects.
But the enigmatic U.N. Security Council delegate only smiled. “You’ve come a long way in a very short time, Your Majesty.”
Alanna visibly bristled, and Gemma wanted to step forward and punch the prick out of principle. Damn the gown, I can still knock this guy on his ass in three seconds flat.
“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Ward,” she replied. “But as the newly crowned sovereign of Solana, I have a lot of matters to attend to. Including revisiting the defense agreement terms on the table. What is your report?”
His smile morphed into a smirk. “I hope the negotiations can proceed more smoothly, now that Raul Lozano is captured and Santos Lozano is dead.”
“You’re welcome.”
Which wiped the smirk off his face instantly. “Excuse me?”
“Lozano is deceased, and his youngest terrorist-son is in custody. You’re welcome.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness—”
“Your Majesty,” both Gemma and André corrected.
“Your Majesty. My apologies.” For which his tone didn’t convey an ounce of pretense. “But those events were due to CIA intelligence.”
Gemma snorted. Alanna clearly wasn’t fazed in the least. “The CIA received their intelligence from Solanian forces. After great effort and sacrifice by Representative Arias and Miss Gemma Westfall.” She gestured to Gemma, which Damon Ward followed for half a second. “In essence, Mr. Ward, your success in these missions is due to Solanian citizens and this woman.”
His face flushed. “The point is, Your Majesty, Ricardo Lozano is still at large. However, during the investigation, we’ve discovered he’s taken half of his father’s fortune and run. The other half was wire-transferred to an account held by Vasco Mafak, the assassin, as payment for murdering Santos Lozano. Vasco is also responsible for Raul Lozano’s capture on Solanian soil.”
Alanna raised a brow.
But none were more stunned than Gemma. “What?” she openly blurted. Hearing that bastard’s name made her spine ache, but the possibility that vicious demon turned over one of the bad guys was hard to comprehend.
“A series of text messages were sent to Raul Lozano from a burner phone purchased by Vasco. Texts alerting him of betrayal, which we’ve learned were nothing more than playful taunts by the assassin, hoping Raul would misstep. Vasco then gave this information to the CIA, who alerted Solanian forces to the assassination plans on the day of the parliament vote.”
“How would he know that information?” André asked. “To give to the CIA?”
“As part of the contract from Ricardo Lozano,” Ward answered. “He not only gave up his father’s location, but his brother’s as well. And the plans for the terrorist attack.”
“Ricardo Lozano turned traitor on his family, just like that?” Alanna asked, skepticism dripping with every word. “Why?”
Tom Willows stepped in. “He was recently married. Rumors are he wanted out of the criminal limelight for the sake of his newfound love.”
“But no one leaves the cartel with a resignation letter.” Ward smirked. “He had to ensure they wouldn’t come after him or his wife. So he had his family murdered.”
Jesus. I thought my childhood was crappy.
“Where’s Vasco now?” Alanna crossed her arms.
Gemma held her breath, waiting for the answer, hoping at least someone knew.
Ward’s smile faded. “We’re following the money trail.”
They don’t know. Liars. All of them. Gemma shifted her gaze to André, who returned the same doubtful expression, though she was certain hers was more cynical.
“Is that all?” Alanna asked, unfolding her arms.
“One last thing.” Ambassador Willows pulled a folder out of his briefcase. “You mentioned revisiting a new defense agreement. Here is our revision, referring to Her Majesty Queen Alanna as the signatory.” He held out the paperwork, and then cast a smug, sideways glance to André.
Gemma’s fingers tightened into a fist. The engagement ring had twisted and dug into her palm. She wanted nothing more than to uppercut his unspoken insult.
André didn’t rise to the bait, and merely maintained his confident face with a glimmer in his eyes like a secret.
Alanna’s jaw twitched. She didn’t touch the folder. “For another day, sir. Today is for my people. A celebration for all Solana.” She nodded to Cataline, who stepped forward and accepted the papers. “Thank you for coming,” the queen continued, her political smile firmly in place. “Please enjoy the festivities today. Perhaps view the yacht races from the newly rebuilt marina, or tour the national museum. Sadly, the guest list is full for the coronation reception tonight.”
Oh, she’s so torn up about it. Gemma bit her tongue to hold back a smile. I like her more and more every day.
Ambassador Willows pursed his lips, but reluctantly bowed. “Thank you for your time. Once again, congratulations.”
The doors opened, and he left. Damon Ward hung back, tapping his finger on his chin. “It’s interesting how Miss Westfall received the intelligence necessary to take down the Lozano cartel so quickly after her hospitalization.”
A bitter taste crawled into Gemma’s throat. “I can reenact it for you. I’ll play Vasco’s part.”
André moved to her side and took her hand. Not to stop her, but to support the memory of the vicious beating she took. From his palm, she could feel his heartbeat accelerate. She wasn’t sure exactly what Ward insinuated, but it was a veiled accusation of some kind. She wanted to hurt the man for even implying.
Ward only smiled bigger. “What I find more interesting is the CIA strike team reported the property had already been searched prior to their arrival.” He studied a marble sculpture of the Hawk of Solana resting on a side table. He traced the wing’s sharp edges with his finger. “A grave had already been exhumed, and the vaults emptied. Would you have any insight on that?” He directed the question to Alanna, but his gaze moved deliberately to Stefano.
Who didn’t even blink.
Talk about a statue.
Alanna lifted her chin. “How kind of you to take such an interest in the CIA’s actions from your role in the U.N. Security Council. I’m sure the United Nations Secretary General will be pleased to hear of your involvement when I speak with him next week.”
The arrogant smile evaporated from Ward’s face. “The best of luck to you, Your Majesty, on your reign. May your future be…peaceful.”
“Good day, Mr. Ward.”
He left, hands shoved in his pockets.
“I think we should open the balcony doors,” Alanna announced. “Let some fresh air in to disperse the bullshit.”
“Took the words right out of my head.” Gemma moved to the window and opened the balcony doors. The strong breeze rushed through the room, and the tropical scent accomplished the goal quickly. “That sea breeze is more refreshing every day. I can get used to this.”
She stepped back, and both Cataline a
nd Quintana stood behind her.
“What?”
Quintana looked between her and Cataline, lips parted.
Cataline smiled and cleared her throat. “Please, allow us to obey the queen’s orders in the future. It is our pleasure.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “I’m fully capable of opening a door.”
Alanna laughed. “And a heck of a lot more. We’re aware. I’m starving. Anyone else?”
Flynn moved from his corner, always so quiet she’d forgotten he was there, if it weren’t for his massive shoulders and tall physique. “How about toast and some fruit? Or can we get you to eat a real meal, like spaghetti or a steak?”
Alanna laughed again, this time brightening the room. Gemma still didn’t understand some of their inside meanings, but the guy had some form of humor that Alanna understood, and that was all that mattered. Thank God.
FLYNN COULD BARELY BREATHE. THE sun’s light showered over Alanna through the bay windows, embracing her in a halo of grace. Almost too beautiful to look upon. Now I understand heaven.
Her train had been pinned into a bustle at her waist, and two very relieved agents from the Royal Jewelry Collection lifted the over-weighted crown off her head. They placed it back into its fingerprint-secured case.
But all the gems and silver on that crown were nothing compared to Alanna. The epitome of regality. Timeless.
When she turned her head toward him, her eyes smiled. Knocked his heart right out of his ribcage.
He moved toward her, slowly and indirectly, like circling a priceless sculpture in a museum. Magnificent, the quintessence of a new era, and untouchable. To everyone except Flynn.
“What are you looking at?” A cute smirk touched her lips.
“I’m trying to figure out how long it will take me to undo the fifty-seven clasps and three zippers on that gown.” He’d counted every single one as she’d dressed earlier. Even though he’d been a nervous wreck before the coronation ceremony at having to stand before all those people in the cathedral, and televised to millions more on international news, he was still lucid enough to watch and appreciate this tiny, commanding woman adorn her regal birthright. Her destiny.
Crown of Solana Page 27
