“There is lot of activity going on in the city tonight,” Dimitri said sardonically. “I don’t suppose you two were out and about?”
Ari frowned, then rubbed his chin. “A bit,” he said, slanting a glance at Francesca. She’d folded one arm across her waist, effectively creating the impression of a shield. “Francesca wanted me in the shadows, but, well…there was a festival.”
Stefan groaned and his mother whirled on him, her brows going up, once more the woman he realized he was used to seeing. “You were seen, I would imagine,” she said. “Of course you were seen, we’ll have to arrange a press conference, a briefing.” She pointed to her assistant and rattled off several requests in Garronois, and the woman left the room at a run.
Beside her, Jasen shook his head, and Ari got to see him fully for the first time. His father had aged, he realized with sudden clarity. This year he was gone had been hard on Ari, certainly. But how much harder on those he’d left behind?
No matter that he couldn’t remember so much, he couldn’t leave them hanging, now that he was back. What was it Francesca had said—Fake it ‘til you make it? Now it was his chance to do exactly that.
A commotion in the hallway drew everyone’s attention, and a stunning woman burst through the doorway.
“Ari!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement, joy and relief.
Then she ran for him.
Chapter Fourteen
“Edeena!” The queen’s voice came out as a whipcrack but didn’t seem to have any impact on the gorgeous woman who ran pell-mell through the receiving room until she launched herself into Ari’s arms. Fran took several steps back from Ari and would have backed all the way out of the room if she hadn’t slammed into Dimitri’s chest.
“Chicken,” muttered the captain and she glared at him, if only to avoid the bear hugging scene in the middle of the floor.
“Who the heck is she?” Fran hissed back. In all the time she’d been with Ari, she hadn’t thought once to ask if he had a girlfriend. She was pretty sure he wasn’t engaged—one of the articles would have mentioned that, surely—but a girlfriend? Of course he’d have a girlfriend. He was the crown prince of the entire freaking country, he would have a girlfriend! “Shouldn’t someone have mentioned a girlfriend?”
“Not a girlfriend,” Dimitri said, lifting himself on his toes and rocking back as Ari and Edeena finally broke apart. They began chattering in non-stop Garronois, and Dimitri continued. “Edeena Saleri and Ari dated briefly when they were in their early teens, but they grew up almost as cousins, though there’s no true blood tie.”
“You’re sure they’re not, ah…”
“Close? No,” Dimitri said, though he grinned as he watched Ari. “With any luck she is not asking him anything about their former lives together. The woman has a mind like a steel trap, and Ari is still springing quite a few leaks.”
As if the queen suddenly came to the same conclusion, she strode forward, interrupting the reunion. “You caught us out, Edeena,” she said smoothly, speaking in English—a fact which wasn’t lost on the young woman. She was lovelier than Fran remembered her from where she’d seen her at the festival. “We’d hoped to keep Ari’s healthy return secret until tomorrow.”
“Ha! Then you shouldn’t have let him sneak out into the city.” Edeena also spoke in English, and she grinned around the room until she spotted Fran. “You!” she fairly shouted, and the sudden command in her voice was unnerving. You could always tell a first born. “You were with him weren’t you?” She swung her gaze back to Ari, and her expression didn’t waver. “Tell me she’s not your nurse. If you’ve fallen in love with your nurse I’m going to tell every last tabloid from here to Hungary, and you’re never going to hear the end of it.”
Despite herself, Fran couldn’t help but like the woman, but Ari answered smoothly. “Not my nurse,” he said. “My injuries were profound yes, but I was all but healed before my benefactors realized my identity and reached out to my parents a few weeks ago. By the time I arrived in Garronia, I was declared a full recovery.”
“Benefactors,” Edeena said, shaking her head. “There’s a story there.”
“Not one of any merit,” Stefan said mildly, but there was no denying the steel lacing his tone. “Tomorrow’s papers will say the same thing, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t know it now. Last June, flying in heavy storms, the prince was blown distinctly off course and crash-landed near an island off the coast of Turkey. He was rescued and tended to without the villagers knowing who he was, and he remained in their care for several months, recovering slowly. Shortly after he was officially declared dead, a fisherman who’d seen the coverage recognized him, and set about the process of notifying the royal family. He has been under a doctor’s care for the past several days, and is now ready to resume his life with the royal family.” Stefan gestured to Ari. “As you can see, he’s quite healthy.”
“Healthy and fit,” announced Kristos suddenly. He turned to his father. “Healthy enough to take on all his roles. Even the one he foisted off on me.”
“Now Kristos,” Jasen raised his hands, but Dimitri snorted.
“I wondered how long it would take Kristos to realize he wouldn’t have to remain crown prince,” he said dryly.
“The Late Lamented Prince Returns,” Edeena agreed, a grin playing around her lips. She put her hands on her hips. “It’s good. It’ll stand up under cross examination of the press, and most of Ari’s adoring fans,” she winked at Ari, who seemed to be watching her with far too much affection for a friend, in Fran’s book. “But you’re going to need more help keeping the matchmakers off your back. With Kristos falling for an American and you kissing yet another American girl, there’s going to be an outcry.”
Fran opened her mouth to rebut the assertion that she was involved in any way with Ari, but Dimitri touched her arm. In that moment of her hesitation, it was the king’s quiet voice that filled the room.
“One of the most cherished features of Garronia is the freedom we grant our people—in life and in love,” he said. “That said, there is no need to rush the process. We have time to observe the old traditions.”
Ari stared at his father, clearly having no idea what he was talking about, but the queen clasped her hands together, her face suddenly radiant.
“A ball! You mean a ball. Not an Accession Ball, it’s far too soon for that, but something special, don’t you think? A celebration.”
Fran lifted her brows and the men in the room groaned, while Ari tried to keep up. This was her cue to exit stage right before Edeena refocused the attention on her.
She slipped behind Dimitri, glaring at him sternly to counter his mocking glance—and faded back to the door.
The halls of the royal palace seemed almost strange to her, and she’d only been gone a couple of days. She had no idea where the other girls were—probably in their rooms—but she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet up with them yet. So much had happened in such a short time. She needed time to regroup, re-center herself. Time to remember who she was, and the role she needed to play.
Fran walked down one long hallway, then another, then noticed a soft light filtering out from a room at the far end of the corridor. This part of the palace seemed abandoned, and she reached the room quickly, slipping inside as she glanced back over her shoulder. There was no one following her, she realized with relief. The royal family—probably all of Garronia—would be focusing on Ari for the foreseeable future. Exactly as it should be.
She scanned the room and realized she shouldn’t be surprised to find this place with the lights still lit. It was the royal gallery, home to generations of Garronois kings and queens. The most prominent portraits were of Catherine and Jasen, of course, but there were also several of the princes. Fran smiled as she saw a pint-sized Kristos, gazing up at his older brother with all the adoration a four-year-old could muster. And Aristotle, for his part, looked strong and fierce, his lips pressed together in a heart-breaking
attempt to appear mature, and his gaze intent, as if the fate of all Garronia rested on his pudgy shoulders.
He’d been groomed to lead this country since he’d been very small, Fran knew. He’d return to that role, despite his current confusion. He’d already begun to piece things together, and what he didn’t know, he’d be told—as often as needed. Most of all he would be loved and supported, carefully shielded from harm until he was strong enough to fight his own battles once more.
Everyone deserved that, from a prince to a scrubby little girl.
A large wing-backed chair stood facing a couch in a formal conversational set, but it was the thick knit wrap draped over it that drew Fran most. Her dad had dozens of these shawls, the only things he’d kept from his own grandmother, and she’d treasured them. It’d been the hardest thing to leave behind when she’d finally walked out the door of Bert’s Bar and Grill for the last time. But unlike the Eiffel Tower, she hadn’t taken a single strand of the crocheted wraps. Dreams you could keep when creating a new life, but too many memories weighed you down.
Ari felt like a weight was pressing his shoulders, and he struggled to maintain his composure as his homecoming transitioned from an intensely emotional personal welcome to a state event. Most of this was Edeena’s fault, but he couldn’t bring himself to chastise her.
Still, he grimaced as the familiar pain streaked through his brain, leaving fog in its wake. That pain had spiked when Edeena had entered the room, so strong that Ari’s eyes watered, and though it lessened markedly the longer she stayed, it never seemed to fade away. Had he felt more for Edeena than for the other members of his family? Surely not.
He studied her now, her head bent with the queen as they discussed something about a ball. He vaguely remembered state events, but they remained deliberately hazy, as did most of the recollections he’d had since breaching this room. He suspected his memory would return in fits and starts, but he couldn’t help thinking he was missing something significant. Something that would matter both to him and his family.
“How much of your life before do you truly remember?”
Ari didn’t turn his head. His father had moved over to him as Kristos, Stefan and a new man—who Ari recognized as Cyril Gerou, the royal family’s chief advisor—discussed the elements of the state address he would need to make. But Jasen was staying out of the fray for the moment, using the opportunity to ask his quiet question.
“I remember that I had a life,” Ari said, honestly. “I am certain that I am this person you all tell me I am. I remember bits and pieces—mostly from when I was very young, less as I grow older. I remembered Cyril without being introduced, and that I could trust him, but I can’t say I feel comfortable meeting anyone else of any standing.”
“You knew Edeena too?”
That was trickier. “I knew that I was supposed to know her, and that there was some tension around the memory. Then when she came at me all smiles, the tension was tempered with relief. But I don’t know why I think these things.”
He shifted his weight, and realized with a glance that Francesca was no longer in the room. How long had she been gone? And why hadn’t he noticed her absence before?
“Edeena is…a friend. She’s always been a friend to you, since you were children.” Jasen hesitated. “Her father is a difficult man.”
Ari shook his head. “I don’t remember him at all.”
Jasen snorted. “I’m not surprised. In the way of many fathers, he tried to push the romance between you and Edeena, unwilling to believe that you would not immediately fall for her. And, I suspect, she would have gladly entered into an engagement with you had there been genuine attraction there, if simply to escape her father’s eternal sour mood.” He sighed. “As well as escape the curse, of course.”
Ari blinked. “There’s a curse?” he asked. “On Edeena?”
“The whole lot of them, yes,” the king replied, though it was clear his attention had been diverted. “Something to ask your mother about. A moment.”
He strode across the room and Ari watched him, feeling suddenly helpless in the gears of the machinery he’d unwittingly set in motion. Another man stepped into the breach left by his father. This man, at least, he was beginning to remember in more detail.
“You seriously don’t know half of what’s going on here, do you?” Dimitri asked.
Ari shook his head. “It becomes clearer with each new interruption, but in a word, no.” He glanced at Dimitri. “Where did Francesca go?”
“From the looks of it, not back to her guest room. I think she’s a little overwhelmed by the planning brigade.” He nodded to the queen and Edeena. “She wisely suspected she’d get pulled into ball gown duty.”
“She has friends here though, right? Nicki Clark I’ve met. But there are two others…” he frowned, the names all running together in his head.
“Emmaline Andrews—soon to be Emmaline Andris, you should know.” Dimitri nodded to Kristos. “That’s the woman Edeena was referring to. She showed up the same morning Kristos was finally going to accept his princely duties as your replacement.”
“Finally…” Ari frowned. “But I’d been declared dead months ago.”
“And your brother did his level best to make believe that was not so.” Dimitri shrugged. “He wanted to stay in the military, not to be a prince. And now—assuming you really are fit for returning to that duty, and that you want to—he can return to the GNSF.”
“That’ll make you happy, I suspect.” Ari’s eyes widened as Dimitri glanced sharply to him. “There, you see?” Ari said triumphantly. “That was a memory.”
“It could have been a supposition.”
“No, a memory. You served with Kristos in the GNSF, and you were proud of him. You’ll be glad to have him back.” Ari frowned. “But that’s just one girl. There was a fourth, right?”
Now it was Dimitri’s turn to grimace. “Lauren Grant,” he said.
“Lauren…” Ari hesitated. “That sounds familiar.”
“Grant family hoteliers, she’s the eldest daughter, rich as Midas with a temper to match.”
Now Ari focused more fully on Dimitri. “You normally don’t speak so critically of our guests.” He lifted his brows. “Another memory.”
“I normally don’t,” Dimitri said, and his voice was so dark that Ari instantly knew.
“You’re sleeping with her. This Lauren Grant.” He peered at the man he could believe was his best friend as every new minute passed. “Worse than that. You’ve fallen in love.”
“She’s a menace,” Dimitri muttered, then he met Ari’s gaze with a challenging glance of his own. “You’re one to talk. I leave you alone for one day—one! With a pretty American and by nightfall you have her fleeing from the room to get away from you.” He grinned as Ari’s gaze darted for the door. “Don’t think of leaving yet, either. You need to get Edeena out the door and your mother off to bed before you try to hunt down your Francesca.”
“She could be with her friends by then.”
“Negative,” Dimitri shook his head. “These Americans, they tend to hold their problems close to the vest when they’ve got ‘em. Not one of them is good at sharing their troubles.” He gestured to where Cyril and the others were arguing. “You go deal with them, and I’ll find your little American. With any luck, it’ll be before Edeena does.”
“She’s not my—” but Ari broke off as Dimitri laughed. The captain turned away quickly, but not before Ari could see the sheen of brightness in his eyes. He watched the man retreat through the door, raking through the newly awakened memories he had of Dimitri Korba. There were plenty of them, ranging all the way up to long, hot days training in the sun last summer. There was nothing to do with the crash, though.
For whatever reason, as Francesca had said, Dimitri had not been with him that night. It felt odd, thinking that. He got the feeling his friend never missed an opportunity to take off on an adventure with him.
In this case, of course, it was
good he hadn’t. It was one thing that Ari had gone down in that plane. If he’d dragged anyone else with him, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to forgive himself.
Ari squared his shoulders, striding over to join Cyril, Jasen and Stefan before his mother and Edeena realized he remained in the room. Bad enough that he would have to navigate the tangled web of politics as he worked his way back into the family business. To have to endure the details of planning a royal ball would be enough to send him back into the streets.
But soon enough, he knew, the questions would settle and the talking would cease. And then he would be free to find Francesca. He may not have all his memories, but he knew the layout of the palace like the back of his hand.
Including all its secrets.
Chapter Fifteen
Fran stirred groggily in her chair, trying to remember where she was. Her first sight was an entire wall of portraits, lit by one softly glowing lamp far down the room.
Then her gaze dropped and she jumped, instinctively pulling her blanket further around her. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” Aristotle Andris sat across from her at one edge of the long couch, still perfectly unmussed in his white shirt and soft trousers. He might have been sitting there for a moment or for hours, she had no way of telling.
But what was certain was that this was Ari, here. Not Ryker Stavros, not Conti Goba. Regardless of what else he’d learned in the receiving room, meeting his parents and his beautiful childhood friend, he’d claimed his identity. He knew who he was.
For a fleeting second, Fran wondered what that would be like.
Ari gestured to the tray on the low table between them. “I didn’t know if you’d be hungry. You’ve got to be thirsty though. You’ve been asleep for hours.”
“Hours!” Fran straightened, allowing the blanket to fall away as she reached for the water. She was thirsty, and she appreciated the business to occupy her hands while her mind raced. “Where are the others—what time is it? And what are you still doing awake?”
Crowned: Gowns & Crowns, Book 4 Page 13
