Claiming My Duchess

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Claiming My Duchess Page 6

by Jessica Blake


  Outside a massive looking building with ornate stonework and gargoyles staring out from the roof, Edmund came to a stop, and Hermione explained that we were at the college.

  “Those were the good old days, darling,” she said, her eyes having a far-off look in them. “My sorority sisters and I running amok in Abingson.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her wistfulness. “You’ll have to share some of your tales with me soon.”

  My auntie actually blushed a little, and she ignored my suggestion, changing the subject instead. “I have some business in town here, so we’ll meet up after you’ve gotten your credentials from the palace?”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  She clasped my hand. “Wonderful. And don’t rush. I’ve plenty to do.”

  Thanking her, I said goodbye and turned to head into the university’s main office. There was a bit of a line for the one exasperated looking secretary, so I took a seat and looked at the room’s reading material.

  There was a newspaper on the coffee table, so I reached forward and grabbed it. Truth be told, it was very similar to the weekly local papers I’d read in San Diego at the coffee shops. Headlines about upcoming weather, traffic accidents, and municipal matters. The main headline was a bit more attention-grabbing, though.

  King Calls Amur Terrorist Threats ‘Unfounded’

  Frowning, I read on. From the gist of the article, Cassia’s neighbor to the north, Amur, had been sending mixed diplomatic messages lately, and to add to the tension, there was speculation that fundamentalist groups inside the regime wanted a war between Cassia and Amur, and were looking to provoke one through acts of violence.

  But the country’s king, King Demetrius, insisted that Cassia’s citizens were safe and that the rumors were just that — rumors.

  King Demetrius was a handsome man with mildly familiar features. I wondered how his face seemed so familiar in this newspaper and guessed it had something to do with his Cassian heritage. Maybe he reminded me subconsciously of my father.

  I’d viewed photos of all the royals, of course, focusing on the king and the young princess, but also looking up the others in line for the throne.

  Sadly, the king’s brother had died recently, and the king’s nephew had very few photos that I could find. It was explained that since the nephew was in the country’s military special forces, his photos were rarely published for security reasons.

  “Miss Costas,” a voice from the far door caught my attention, and a woman in a pencil skirt and pretty peach blouse waved to me, and I followed her back to the office, my folder of transfer credit and visa paperwork in my hand.

  Thirty minutes later, I had my official university ID, though I’d hardly be on campus. I did have an academic adviser that I had access to, and there were multiple computer labs throughout the campus I could use for projects or communication purposes. I’d declined the tour the woman offered.

  “Once the term begins, students gather each day at noon under the giant archways,” she said brightly, and I was glad that most everyone in Cassia spoke fluent English. “It would be a good opportunity to get the lay of the land.”

  I shook her hand and thanked her for her help. While the term didn’t begin until the beginning of September, my internship started next week. Surely, I’d be getting the lay of the land with the palace staff.

  Outside, I took a moment to soak in the afternoon heat bearing down on me. It felt wonderful on my skin, and it made the already-beautiful city nearly sparkle. I wished I had my camera with me, but I opted for my smartphone and sent a shot I took of downtown to Jenn.

  Who immediately video called me.

  The plaza I was sitting in was in one of the sunniest spots in the public park and full of other sun worshippers, making the thought of a web chat a little embarrassing. But it was Jenn, and I hadn’t talked to her since I sent her a text letting her know I’d landed in Cassia.

  “That place looks amazing,” she said by way of greeting. “How are you getting along?”

  I could tell Jenn was checking out the view behind me, so I tried to hold the phone in a way that gave her more backdrop and less me.

  “I checked into the university today,” I said. “And now I’m on my way to get my security badge for the palace.”

  Jenn squealed in delight, and I swore I saw a couple people turn their heads toward me at the sound.

  “You have to give me every detail! And tell me how handsome the king is!”

  I frowned.

  “He’s in his mid-sixties, Jenn,” I said with a laugh. She pouted on the other end.

  “Prince?”

  “Nope,” I said, rolling my eyes at how little Jenn had listened to me prattle on about the country. “A Crown Princess. In first grade.”

  “Wow, the king was a slow starter. That sucks,” Jenn said with a grimace. “You should see if there’s time to switch countries. There are still a few hot, single nobles out there.”

  “Everything good on your end?” I asked, changing the subject in case my eavesdroppers were still listening in.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I’ve been hitting the gym every day trying to get in shape for the trip.”

  In another three weeks, she’d be here, and I could hardly wait.

  “Don’t stress diet,” I warned, although why my friend thought she needed to lose a single ounce, I’d never understand. “You know it never works.”

  We chatted a few minutes about the daily things in Jenn’s life at the moment, namely a part-time job at a bar down the street and an occasional hookup named Jed. Eventually, though, she had to go, and I needed to get to the palace.

  According to the app on my phone, I was about six blocks from it, so the bus wasn’t necessary. For the day, I was wearing a long navy skirt paired with navy flats and a white t-shirt tied at the waist.

  An oversized v-neck, white t-shirt that had once been stuck to the body of a very hot man I got to know for a few hours.

  Yeah, I was wearing the man’s shirt. I couldn’t help it. It still smelled like him no matter how many times I washed it. And the way the oversized neck hung from my shoulder was cute, if I was perfectly honest. I liked it.

  The walk was easy and through a picturesque part of town. I walked along, snapping photos as I went and uploading them to my various social media accounts. When I finally reached the palace, I didn’t know what to do.

  There was a large iron gate at the front with two guards posted on either side. Neither looked friendly, and since it certainly looked like that entrance was for cars only, I searched for the more pedestrian route.

  There was a small wrought-iron door a few hundred yards away, and I approached the guard standing there. This one was in a far less fancy ceremonial uniform than the two out front had been.

  “Χαίρετε,” he said, taking me in from top to toe, though not in a sexual way. “Πώς μπορώ να σε βοηθήσω?”

  I blinked. I got the “hello” part, but the rest had flown right over my head.

  “English?” I asked hopefully, and the man nodded.

  “What can I do for you?”

  Right. The palace wasn’t open to the public like all the government buildings in the States.

  I pulled out the letter of employment I’d received from Mr. Masters and handed it to the guard who read it through.

  “Just getting my badge today,” I said. He nodded and asked for my ID, which I handed over.

  “Have a nice day,” he said and waved me through. Except, I had no idea where I was going, and I prayed I didn’t get shot making a wrong turn somewhere and tromping over a secure area.

  A gravel path led from the gatehouse toward the castle, so I followed it and hoped the door that I was headed to wasn’t a fire exit or something worse. Holding my breath as I approached, I let out a sigh of relief when I spotted a reception desk on the other side.

  Smiling despite being incredibly nervous, I handed all of
my palace security paperwork to the woman who looked them over before handing them back to me. She inspected me over her glasses, and I immediately wished I’d worn something more polished.

  “The Royal Photographer’s office is on the third floor, to the left,” she said in beautifully lilting English. “Take the elevator with the blue doors.”

  She gave a vague wave of her hand in the general direction I was pretty sure I was supposed to be going, and I thanked her.

  The blue elevator was in between two black-doored elevators, and I couldn’t help but wonder where those two went.

  “Not trying to get shot,” I whispered to myself. “Not trying to get shot.”

  I pressed the number three button on the blue elevator and waited for it to go up. About a minute later, I approached the official Office of the Royal Photographer and pushed my way into an elegant reception area where I was greeted by another receptionist. I repeated everything that I’d told the woman downstairs and waited while this one went through a door on the right and spoke with someone in that office.

  She returned a few moments later and beckoned me to follow her. I nearly panicked. I’d been told I’d just be picking up my badge. I wasn’t expecting a meeting.

  “This is Marta,” the receptionist said, smiling a little more now. “Marta will be your supervisor while you’re with us.”

  I thanked the first woman and shook Marta’s hand.

  “Wonderful to see you, Iliana,” she said, her gaze sliding to my feet. “Let me introduce you first to the royal dress code.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sebastianos

  Meetings were a form of torture that I was certain was meant to be saved for the vilest of criminals.

  In my life as a training instructor, meetings usually meant phone calls from higher-ups with training objective changes and short briefings once a month. Information came in one direction, was received, and orders were followed.

  But in a closed-door security council meeting in the Kingdom of Cassia? There were opinions and orders being thrown about from all directions, and nobody wanted to wait long enough to listen to another person.

  It was in these meetings that I came to know the Minister of the Interior, one Anjou Alaine. She’d served in that role for nearly as long as I could remember, having been appointed nearly twenty-five years ago. I’d still been in short pants at that time.

  Anjou behaved like some sort of reigning monarch wherever she went, and I’d bet my annual salary that if her position had been voted in and not appointed, any constituents she might have would likely have voted her out of office twenty years ago.

  “Your Majesty, I don’t believe that was a wise move,” she said, rubbing her temples and letting the monarch, my uncle Demetrius, know that she disagreed with his recent interview about the Amurian rumors. “The people have a right to know of any potential risk.”

  Part of the reason people thought she’d stayed in office so long was mostly because of her friendly relationship with the press. She granted interviews often and could always be relied upon for a comment. So, if she somehow managed to be fired, she could run to the newspapers and the television stations and make the situation messier than necessary.

  One of the major drawbacks of it all, despite her attitude, was that it gave her bigger teeth in meetings like these.

  I sighed and sat back in my chair.

  “The threats are more frequent,” Anjou pressed. My uncle was looking down at his notes and twirling the pen in his fingers. “The threats are more violent. You must let the people know.”

  The king just shook his head. “Sometimes, Anjou, I think you try to use scary headlines to frighten the public into obedience,” he said. I perked up a little because that’s exactly what plenty of us thought she did.

  “I would never, Your Highness,” she said, all placating eyelash fluttering and fanning of her hand out over her chest.

  “Right,” the king said, tapping his pen on the stack of papers in front of him. “We’ll keep the tone I’ve set from the palace for the time being, at least until I hear anything more credible. We don’t need to scare our people and put a damper on the summer festivities.”

  The king loved the annual summer party, complete with public street and block parties, a parade, and a Legacy Ball. It was weeks away, and I was still trying to get Penelope’s security detail and “range of motion” nailed down. I groaned… and mine.

  It wasn’t that I was especially happy to limit how far Penelope could venture at the largest party of the year, but there wasn’t much of a choice. The ball was invitation only, and most everyone would be vetted beforehand. There’d also be metal detectors and inconspicuously placed security teams throughout the palace. But keeping a six-year-old from darting off this way and that, especially this six-year-old who had a penchant for finding trouble a mile away, was harder than it looked.

  Especially since I was expected to play into my new role. Smiling and waving and… dammit, making polite conversation with everyone.

  The ball would be my first formal gathering as second in line to the throne since my father’s passing, and I didn’t enjoy the publicity at all. Being able to avoid having my photograph taken was one of the benefits to being in the special forces. And if my photo did make it online, our cybersecurity team, now led by Nate, either altered the photo or took it down.

  But now… shit.

  Now, it would be my damn job to be in the public as much as possible, creating additional interest for our country. Cassia depended on tourism dollars and having “a handsome prince,” as my uncle called me, “single and available” was supposed to generate that interest, which would generate income.

  Perfect.

  Not that I allowed myself to be called Prince Sebastianos. I refused to let my uncle take it that far. Duke of Becktonas was pretentious enough. I much preferred Captain Sebastianos Xenakis, but my fate was now out of my hands.

  Back in my office, I clicked through the emails that had arrived during the meeting and sighed. On the desk in front of me were three clipboards, all of which were functions or events that the princess or myself would be part of, and I needed to make sure she and I were prepared for each event.

  Which was ridiculous. She was six and should be out playing with her friends, but heightened security due to national unrest changed how much freedom the little girl could experience.

  And although I wasn’t her personal security, I had the training to protect her whenever she was in my presence. So protect her I would, with my life.

  Which meant that my schedule now must work in concert with hers, especially with the numerous public engagements I’d be expected to attend.

  I sighed, my eyes crossing as I filled in yet another date on the calendar. This time to lay flowers on unmarked graves, an event I was honored to attend.

  A knock sounded on the door, and I called out for whoever was on the other side to enter. It couldn’t have been Nate since he would have barged right on in.

  It was my uncle, and I immediately stood up, giving him a formal bow without thinking.

  He rolled his eyes and waved me into my seat. “At ease, Seb. Sit back down. I just wanted to stop and chat for a bit. I haven’t really seen you since you returned from America. Did you have a good trip?”

  I’d gone to discuss the training of a battalion of American troops scheduled for early next year and had used the trip to stop and visit the Cassian embassy on behalf of the Crown. Well, that as well as enjoy the last weeks of my personal freedom. Enjoy Ana…

  Damn.

  My cock pulsed at the memory of her, and I cleared my throat, focusing all my attention on my uncle.

  “It went quickly,” I said as I sat. Uncle Demetrius took the chair on the other side of my desk. Outside the door, I heard his personal guards in the hallway. “I secured a tentative date for the Americans to arrive and agreed upon a price.”

  These sorts of special training schools were a big part of the Cassian mili
tary budget. Being such a small nation, we didn’t have a need for a huge military, and the one we had could pay for itself just through the training program I’d been part of alone. There was also a water rescue school for naval and coast guard forces on the other side of the country, which also took in foreign military students.

  “Good,” my uncle said, nodding. “And how are you liking the job?”

  He knew that I’d been reluctant to take the post and had told me repeatedly that I’d find my way soon enough. He was so excited to have me back in the palace that I couldn’t bear to let him down.

  “It’s great,” I said, trying to look like I meant it earnestly. “Getting easier every day.”

  It seemed to be what he wanted to hear, and he smiled.

  “I haven’t seen Penelope this excited in years,” he said, the happiness clear on his face. Penelope was his pride and joy, and he’d been worried about her since the moment she was born, and even more so after her mother died. I’d been worried about him but knew better than to make it too obvious.

  “It’s also been great for me to see her every day,” I said, meaning it. Penelope and I had that bond, a strong lifeline since she made her debut in the world and pulled my broken self back from the brink.

  But the times between getting to watch Penelope zip her scooter around the halls and over her guards’ feet were what I was struggling to make work. Things were so different now that I was in this position and my time was no longer mine. Now, I couldn’t even venture out into public for a drink with Nate in Cassia. In America, it had been easy. But in Cassia, the local paparazzi had gotten a little too interested in my personal life and seemed intent on digging up stories from my past that I could have done without reliving.

  “How are you getting along outside of work?” he asked.

  I read the gleam in his eye instantly and just shook my head. “No, Your Majesty…” In private, the honorifics weren’t necessary, but I often used them just to be a smartass. “I’m not dating anyone.”

  In an instant, Ana’s adorable face popped into my mind, and I nearly grinned. Recovering, I refocused my thoughts and wondered what the hell had just happened. Why was I thinking of her in random conversations about my dating life?

 

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