Page 18 of Back to Claim His Crown
‘I would be very disappointed if you were silent, Princess.’
Her mouth dried. ‘Sometimes survival is dependent upon silence.’
‘True,’ he agreed. ‘But, equally, sometimes it’s dependent upon screaming.’
He meant for help. He didn’t mean in some sexual way. Only that wasn’t how her brain was interpreting it. She stared at him.
‘I guess the trick is knowing when to employ which option.’
CHAPTER SIX
ZARADIDN’TSEEthe King for three days. Well, not in the flesh. She saw plenty of him on screen. She watched his speech. Watched the footage of him emerging from meetings with politicians and the elite. Watched the endless repeats of those moments in the cathedral. His progress was swift and dramatic. The plans for the coronation were delayed until the dust had settled as he focused on steering the nation through the change smoothly, but indeed it was a swift, bloodless restoration. King Lucian of Monrayne—with his undisputed lineage—reclaimed the throne utterly unopposed.
The crowds kept cheering. Zara watched constant deliveries of letters, cards and gifts. Political pundits and social media opinion writers commented on the vast change from smiling, personable young man to remote, solemn king. They were saddened by his lack of smiles and the obvious physical trauma he’d endured, despite his incredibly strong physique now.
The murky truth of that fateful day was analysed over and over. The official report had always been that Lucian and Anders had been on a summer holiday in the Mediterranean. They’d gone out on a small vessel to go diving. Lucian had gone overboard and hit his head. Anders had been in shock and struggled to raise the alarm. The boat with Anders wasn’t found for hours and Lucian’s body never recovered in the intense searches in subsequent weeks. Lucian’s mother had rapidly declined in the immediate aftermath and died only days later. It seemed her cancer had been kept secret from the public. It had all been a dreadful tragedy.
But now there were other whisperings about what might really have occurred on that boat, especially as Anders had fled the second Lucian had reappeared.
The press repeatedly showed an athletics team photo in which a teenage Lucian stood shoulder to shoulder with a young King Niko of Piri-nu—Prince back then. Right before that accident the two men had spent several years at boarding school together. And that was why Lucian had somehow made it to Piri-nu.
There were hints that his physical recovery had taken a long time. He’d remained on Piri-nu incognito as King Niko’s head of security. He’d rarely been captured on film but they’d found a few photos with him in the background—those aviator sunglasses, that muscular body. He was much tougher-looking than the charming teen he’d been in that earlier portrait.
But Lucian’s fight for public approval was well and truly won, even though he’d been away for so long. In part it was because of the underlying concerns that people had about Anders. More and more horrible stories had emerged about the man.
The coverage on Zara was mixed. ‘Sources’ from the castle at home had asserted that Princess Zara was perfectly well and taking time for herself. Some commentators cast her as naive. Others as cold. Others still questioned how she could not have known about her fiancé’s unsavoury reputation. But most were too consumed with raking through Lucian’s missing years and with assessing him now.
As the days slipped by she stayed in the private wing, chatting to the same two servants who’d appeared the day after the wedding-that-wasn’t. One was a man from Piri-nu who she suspected was also a soldier. The other was the man Victor, who Lucian had mentioned. He was older and had come out of retirement to serve Lucian. He was particularly attentive and had kindly asked for all her preferences. It was the first time anyone had done so and she hadn’t quite known how to answer.
After that first night she’d slept deeply—still in the room that had once been his. She hadn’t yet contacted her family, but she probably should soon. She should also probably move soon.
But here, for the first time, she had no need to please anyone. In this small wing she was absolutely free to be herself and figure her future out. Even if she was going to need a little more help to make it to the next stage, it was still better.
In the early evening on her fourth night of such freedom she sat in the small dining room reading more rubbish headlines on the tablet they’d provided for her while Victor placed a vast array of silver dishes on the table. There was no way she was going to be able to eat everything he was putting out for her.
That was when Lucian walked in. She ignored the thud of her heart and tried not to stare. She failed. He still looked tired. He looked leaner too—that square jaw sharper. While she’d got rest, he was seemingly still in the trenches.
‘You’re still here, I see.’ He took off the aviator sunglasses that he so often wore and sat opposite her.
‘Nowhere else I’d rather be.’ She smiled at him breezily. ‘The rest of the world feels sorry for me, whereas you don’t actually care, and honestly that’s better.’
‘What makes you think I don’t care?’ He shot her an oblique look. ‘Surely if I didn’t care I would have thrown you out of the palace while you were still stuck in your wedding dress. And why do you read the rubbish if it bothers you?’
‘I wasn’t. I was checking the classifieds for jobs.’
‘Anything appealing?’
‘Sadly, there’s not a lot of demand for ill-educated virgins who don’t know how to turn a washing machine on.’
‘And who are incapable of unbuttoning their own dresses,’ he added helpfully.
‘I was stitched into it, as well you know.’
‘Yes. I remember.’ He grinned.
She blinked at him. Then blushed.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked after a moment of screaming silence.
