Even after her ‘probation period’ of two weeks was up, and nothing further was said about her returning home to England, Anna wasn’t granted a personal audience.
So, yes, he was avoiding her. Which was ridiculous, not to mention puzzling. Because why would he? Sure, they’d had sex, but he’d told her to pretend it had never happened and that was exactly what she was doing. Could he not do the same? Or was he genuinely busy?
Either way, it annoyed her. She wasn’t sure how long she would be kept on here, and, although Ione seemed to be less disruptive whenever Anna was around, she was still prone to inappropriate tantrums and reckless behaviour. And Anna thought that wasn’t going to get any better until His Royal Majesty deigned to spend more time with his daughter, though where that would leave Anna herself, she wasn’t sure.
One thing she was sure of: Ione had come to trust her and she wasn’t going to let the little girl down by not at least making an attempt to talk to the king.
No one else could do this. Only her. And it mattered because she didn’t want to see Ione grow up as she had, in the company of distant people who cared for her, but only in a detached way. Who only saw her as a collection of behaviours that needed managing, a future monarch in Ione’s case, and not as an actual person.
However, it wasn’t until nearly four weeks after she’d first taken Ione to the playground that Anna eventually spotted her opportunity.
The king was giving a special function for dignitaries from various European countries and, since it would be the first time he wouldn’t be closeted away and guarded assiduously, she’d have the perfect opportunity to approach him. He could hardly send her away or drag her from the room in front of all his assembled guests—not that she’d interrupt him and demand he speak to her while he was talking to others, of course. She’d somehow get herself into the ball, even though she wouldn’t be invited, and then wait for an opportunity. And there would be one, she was certain of it.
Over the past few weeks she’d amassed a few items of clothing, purchased from the salary the king paid her, but a ballgown wasn’t one of those things. However, Princess Calista came to her aid, finding her a dress to borrow for the night from one of Axios’s most talented designers, while offering her stylist’s services to do her hair and make-up. Anna decided not to lie about the reasons for slipping into the ball even though she hadn’t been invited, and Calista had been wholeheartedly on Anna and Ione’s side.
And so, a week later, Anna found herself standing in front of a small side door—a staff entrance—that led into the grand ballroom of the palace, dressed in a stunning ballgown of ice-blue silk and silver lace, with an overskirt of silver net sewn with crystals, with her hair, golden and gleaming, piled high on her head and perfect make-up, ready to crash the king’s reception.
She felt strange, utterly unlike herself, as if she’d put on someone else’s clothing. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, making her feel slightly sick. She’d been feeling off-colour the past couple of days, though it hadn’t turned into anything more than tiredness and the occasional bout of nausea, so she’d mostly ignored it. Right now, though, it felt worse, making it difficult to find the calm that usually got her through the most trying days in the convent.
This was a move the Reverend Mother wouldn’t approve of, that was certain, but then, Anna wasn’t doing this for herself, just so she could go to a party and wear a ballgown. Or even to see the king she couldn’t stop thinking about.
She was doing this for Ione.
The staff member leaned forward and pushed open the door, and abruptly Anna was thrust into a massive room full of beautiful people wearing beautiful clothes, where the air buzzed with the sound of conversation and the tones of a small orchestra played in one corner.
The vaulted stone ceiling was crisscrossed with heavy beams around which coiled lots of delicate lights. The stone walls had been softened by the inevitable tapestries, along with silken wall hangings. Pots of trees had been placed everywhere as well as enormous tubs of flowers. There were even fountains, giving the illusion of a lovely and elaborate garden that had been brought inside.
It was beautiful, and for a second Anna wanted to simply enjoy it for herself.
But that wasn’t why she was here.
Steeling herself, she stepped forward into the crowd.
Adonis stood next to the wall beside one of the big potted rhododendrons, taking advantage of a minute’s gap in the constant round of small talk to scan the crowd, to make sure the evening was proceeding as planned.
The celebration to mark the signing of Axios’s latest treaty wasn’t something he was particularly enjoying. Unlike his brother, who loved a good party, Adonis did not like parties. Nevertheless, many Axians did like to have a fuss made, so he’d ensured the maximum amount of fuss for this particular occasion, opening the royal wine cellars and making sure the royal chefs did not disappoint for the official dinner.
And, indeed, they had not.
A triumph, people were saying, which he took as Axios’s due. He might not like parties, but even he could appreciate how a good one could earn respect.
The crowd in the ballroom shifted and turned, the air full of conversation and the sounds of the orchestra. Jewels and sequins sparkled, the light also glinting off medals and cufflinks, while people laughed and talked and drank vintage champagne from the best palace crystal.
Restlessness coiled inside him. A familiar restlessness. It had been rattling around and around inside him like a lion pacing before the bars of his cage, and nothing seemed to get rid of it. He’d been spending long hours in his gym and in the pool, working himself into physical exhaustion, but that hadn’t helped. Even rounds in the boxing ring hadn’t got rid of it.
He’d tried to fill his days as much as he could with the endless demands of kingship, trying to ignore it, but that hadn’t helped either. At the end of each day he lay awake in his bed, that restlessness eating away inside him, and he’d have to get up and walk the corridors just to satisfy it.
As a consequence, he was in a foul mood.
It didn’t help that a part of him knew exactly why he was restless, but it was a part he didn’t want to acknowledge and so he didn’t. Except during the day, when sometimes he could hear the sounds of his daughter’s laughter, and along with it the sound of another laugh. Deeper and a little huskier than Ione’s clear bell tones, with a warmth that crept through him, touching something inside him. And it made his heart race and his body harden.
And when he walked the palace corridors at night, he sometimes caught the vague scent of lavender and sweetness, and that had the same effect, making desire wrap itself around him, choking him.
Xerxes unfortunately noticed his temper and had asked him what was wrong, but Adonis had ignored him. He didn’t want to talk about the real reason he couldn’t settle, because it shouldn’t have been a problem.
And he didn’t know why it was.
You do.
Adonis ignored that thought completely, concentrating his attention on the crowd. He would soon have to resume his tour of the ballroom, talking to all the necessary people...
A glitter caught his eye, his attention drawn to the progress of a woman wending her way through the crowd. The gown she wore was silvery blue and looked as if the voluminous skirts had been scattered all over with tiny diamonds or raindrops, catching the light as she moved. It was strapless, the bodice cupping a pair of the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen and hugging curvaceous hips. Her bare shoulders glowed like pale satin in the light, her blonde hair piled on her head in delicate curls like a fall of winter sunlight. Her face was heart-shaped and delectable, with a mouth made for sin, and she was beautiful, glowing.
His body hardened instantly.
Perhaps after this ridiculous party was over he could make her acquaintance, because the one thing he hadn’t tried to stem this restlessne
ss was sex. He hadn’t had a woman since Anna. He’d told himself he’d been too busy, that he’d indulge himself later, but later hadn’t come so far. He’d found himself... unenthusiastic about the idea of someone else. Yet not now. He watched her come through the crowd, realising with a start that she was making her way very determinedly towards him, and she was familiar in some way. She reminded him of his little nun with her hair and her skin, and those beautiful curves...
Realisation hit him like a lightning strike.
It was his little nun, looking like a princess and coming towards him in that single-minded way she had. How he hadn’t known her instantly he couldn’t fathom, because there was no mistaking those misty grey eyes or the stubborn slant of her chin.
He stared, drinking in the sight of her. It felt like weeks since he’d seen her—it had been weeks since he’d seen her—and he hadn’t realised how hungry he was for the sight of her until now.
It was wrong, of course, but he couldn’t drag his gaze away.
What was she doing here? He hadn’t invited her. This wasn’t the kind of event she should be attending. And yet here she was, making straight for him, dressed in a magnificent gown with her hair and make-up perfect... If he hadn’t noticed that her hands were clasped tightly in front of her and that even under the make-up she was slightly pale, he would have said she belonged here. The most beautiful jewel in the crown.
His guards loitering a discreet distance away instantly came to attention as she approached, but he shook his head slightly and they relaxed again. He could have had them usher her from the room before she even reached him, but it was clear she was determined to talk to him and he couldn’t think of a reason why she shouldn’t.
You’ve thought of plenty of reasons for weeks.
It was true he’d refused all her requests for a meeting, but that was because he’d been extremely busy. And yes, he’d delegated her nightly reports on Ione’s progress to an assistant, but again, he’d been extremely busy. It had nothing to do with how she threatened his detachment. Nothing at all.
However, it had been weeks since he’d seen her and surely he was master of himself enough that meeting her wouldn’t be a problem. He could spare her a couple of minutes.
Yet his heart beat strangely fast as she approached, his body was hard, and the man who was somehow still alive inside him, the man who should have been displaced entirely by the king, wanted to take her in his arms and find somewhere quiet, somewhere dark, and resume what they’d started in his office weeks ago.
But that could not happen, not again. Nothing had changed.
He was still a king and distance was still required. He would not take her again, no matter what the man inside him wanted.
So he watched her approach, remaining unmoving. People would be looking at him because a king was always under scrutiny, but, since he was relatively hidden by the rhododendrons, he wouldn’t be visible to that many people. And neither would she.
‘Your Majesty,’ she said formally, coming to a stop in front of him and sweeping into a low and graceful curtsey. ‘Do you have a moment?’
He eyed her. It really was a magnificent gown, the light glittering off the crystals sewn into her skirts. Where had she got it?
‘I do not recall inviting you to this party, Anna.’ He kept his tone flat. ‘And yet here you are, in a couture gown, with your hair and make-up done...’
She rose from her curtsey, her colour high, her eyes glittering silver, much like her gown. ‘No, I know I wasn’t invited. Princess Calista helped me with the gown and her stylist did my make-up and hair. I wasn’t going to turn up at something like this wearing my grey dress, if that’s what you were wondering.’
‘What I was wondering was why you are here at all. Especially when, as I said, I did not invite you.’
She gave him a narrow look, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. ‘Since you refused all requests for a meeting, I had to find some way of talking to you directly. This seemed the perfect opportunity.’
She was enterprising, his little nun.
Yours?
Just a figure of speech. Of course she wasn’t his.
‘I’ve been busy,’ he said shortly. ‘What is this about?’ He very much hoped it wasn’t going to be about what had gone on in his office, yet what else could it be?
She was very cool and collected, but he could see the familiar little spark that spoke of her temper all the same, which meant he had to be careful. He found her bright sparks of emotion altogether too fascinating, though at least now he was aware of where his weaknesses lay.
‘What do you think this is about?’ She seemed annoyed that he didn’t know.
‘If you’re here to talk about what happened in my office—’
‘Of course I’m not here to talk about that,’ she interrupted, apparently feeling that she could interrupt a king at will. ‘I’m here to talk about Ione.’
Surprise rippled through him, closely followed by disappointment, which made no sense. He hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened between them, and Ione was far more of an important subject.
‘What about her?’ he asked. ‘My assistant has been keeping me updated with her progress and I’m pleased with what you’ve been doing with her.’ And he was. Ione had been doing very well by all accounts, though he hadn’t seen much of an improvement in her behaviour the few times he’d glimpsed her.
Perhaps she’s only good with other people.
It was a thought that did nothing for his own temper.
‘She is doing well and has been enjoying the outings I take her on,’ Anna said. ‘And thank you for granting permission, by the way.’
Ah, yes. The outings. Xerxes had plagued him about that for hours, presenting argument after argument. But it hadn’t been until Xerxes had mentioned his being too like their father for comfort that he’d changed his mind. Xenophon had been brutal, but Adonis wasn’t, and so he’d given in.
‘You can thank my brother for that,’ he said coolly.
‘And I did.’ Anna gave him a stern look. ‘But outings aside, Ione’s behaviour probably won’t get any better until she spends more time with her father.’
He stiffened at the inescapable hint of judgment in her tone. ‘Are you questioning me?’
‘Yes, actually, I am.’ Anna took a step towards him. ‘I know you’re very busy, that being a king is time-consuming. But the truth is that she needs more of you, Adonis. And she doesn’t get it.’
Heat lanced through him at her casual use of his name, as though she had a right to it. As though he was simply a man and she a woman, naked in his arms.
‘I did not give you leave to use my name,’ he said coldly, trying to lock down the anger at his own reaction to her. ‘You forget yourself, Sister.’
But of course she wasn’t cowed by him. She never had been. And instead of inclining her head and accepting her chastisement, she took another step, so she was right in front of him, determination and anger glowing bright in her eyes. ‘I don’t care. You might be a king, sire, but you’re also a father. And your little girl needs you.’
She’s right. And you know it too.
Hot anger and a smothering sense of guilt tore through him, though he tried to fight it. Because deep inside the heart he tried to tell himself he didn’t have, he did know it.
But being a father would always come second to being a king, and Ione had to learn that. Because one day she would have to make the same choices that he had.
‘Choose, Adonis,’ his father had demanded, the day after Adonis had successfully rescued his brother from captivity in the desert, risking the entire succession of Axios to do so. ‘I have told you again and again that you cannot be my heir and a brother at the same time, that there will always be an enemy who will use someone you love against you. So you must choose. Your brother or your throne? Which i
s it to be?’
Of course he’d chosen the throne. Every time his father had made him choose, he’d always chosen the throne. And not for the power, but because that was his duty.
Ione would have to learn that too when she was old enough. He wouldn’t teach her the way his own father had taught him, of course, but when it came time for her to become the Lioness of Axios, he would sit her down and explain why detachment in a monarch was important.
Are you so sure that’s true? Do you really want her to turn into what you’ve become?
Adonis crushed the thought. He had become a king. What was so terrible about that?
‘Ione is not more important than my subjects,’ he snapped, some of the anger that gripped him leaking out in his voice no matter how hard he tried to stop it. ‘I am responsible for millions—including at least a million children—so please forgive me if they take precedence over the needs of one already happy child.’
Anna’s expression flickered, something entering her eyes that he didn’t like the look of one bit. Her gaze narrowed and she took another step, her skirts brushing closer to him, and he was suddenly surrounded by the scent of musk and lavender, by the warmth of her. Making the breath catch in his throat.
‘But she’s not happy, Adonis,’ she said quietly, her voice very level. ‘And neither, I think, are you.’
Happy. What did he know about being happy? Happiness was just another useless emotion he couldn’t allow himself to have.
And your daughter? You want that for her?
He ignored the thought. ‘Happiness is irrelevant. Rulers do not need to be happy in order to rule.’
Anna’s gaze searched his. ‘No, but happiness is necessary for children, don’t you think?’
‘No,’ he said before he could stop himself. ‘My childhood was unhappy and I survived.’
Concern flickered over her face and she began to lift one of her hands, as if she’d been going to touch him before remembering where she was.
The Most Powerful Of Kings (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Royal House of Axios, Book 2) Page 10
