Penelope and Prince Charming (Nvengaria #1)(54)

“I know, but you deserve someone to love you.” Sephronia withdrew her hand from his and rested it on his chest. “That is what I wish for you. And you will best Damien. I know you will.”

The hand on his chest trembled. Alexander gently put it aside and got to his feet. He’d learned to sense when Sephronia was too tired to continue, and rather than embarrass her by having her fall asleep in mid-sentence, he’d rise and say a formal good-night.

Tonight, for some reason, he had the compulsion to lean over her and press a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well, Your Grace.”

She touched his face. “You as well, Your Grace.”

Alexander left her without another word. He closed the door, his heart heavy.

She would die soon. He’d provided the best in care for her, but nothing could cure her. She would have the most elegant monument in the country, but that hardly compensated.

“Papa!”

Alexander heard his son’s voice calling from the upper balconies of the prince’s palace. He took the steps of the wide staircase two at a time, caught his wandering son, and lifted him up. “What are you doing out of bed, pup? It’s past midnight.”

“I could not sleep, Papa.” Young Alex settled happily into the crook of his father’s arm. “I managed to slip past my nurse before she awoke.”

Alexander suppressed a smile at his choice of words. Alex already loved intrigue and covert meetings. He’d make an excellent Grand Duke.

“Let us return before she misses you.” With his son perched on his shoulder, Alexander climbed into the dark reaches of the castle.

He liked that Alex did not flinch from the shadows. The old prince had died when Alex was young enough not to remember the horrors of him. With any luck, Alexander would banish every horror the old man had perpetrated, so that his son grew up in a new world with nothing to fear.

“I will go riding tomorrow,” Alex announced. “Mama is too ill to ride, isn’t she?”

“I am afraid so,” Alexander answered.

“My nurse says she will die before long. Is that so, Papa?”

“Yes, it is.” Alexander saw no reason to hide the truth from the boy. He’d learn of it soon enough.

“Poor Mama,” Alex said with a sigh.

There had never been any intimacy between Sephronia and young Alex. Alex understood she was his mother, but he watched her from afar and knew very little about her.

“Are you going to kill Prince Damien, Papa?” Alex asked.

Alexander shifted the boy’s weight on his shoulder. Alex was growing, becoming heavier by the week, it seemed. “I will if I must.”

“Is Prince Damien a very bad man?”

“He is indeed.” No use hiding that from him either.

“Nurse says Prince Damien’s father used to eat little boys for breakfast,” Alex said. “Is that true?” He spoke with curiosity, not fear.

Alexander saw that he’d have to have a word with Nurse. Telling Alex the exact state of affairs was one thing, embellishing tales was another.

“The old Imperial Prince was a bad man, but not a cannibal,” Alexander answered.

“Oh.” Alex sounded a bit disappointed. “Is Prince Damien a cannibal?”

Alexander considered. “I don’t know, son. When he returns, we will ask him.”

“And then you will kill him?”

Alex sounded interested, just like his mother. “Yes,” Alexander answered with finality. “I will kill him.”



* * *



The ritual bonding of the bride-and groom-to-be commenced at the end of the week.

“About bloody time,” Damien muttered as Petri dressed him in his most formal of uniforms.

“You are keen, sir,” Petri said, not hiding his amusement. “I’ve never seen you so keen for a lady.”

“This is a very special lady.” Damien wound his cravat around his throat and tilted his head back so Petri could tie its knot. “You ought to be congratulating me, not laughing at me.”

“I do congratulate you, sir.” Petri looped the cravat into complicated twists and tugged the knot tight. “The lady is a most entrancing young woman, and she will make a regal princess. I feel great happiness for you.”

“You also look forward to me slaking myself so I will stop grumbling,” Damien said darkly.

Petri’s blue eyes twinkled. “When the royal staff has a taste of the lady, the ache will ease up, sir.”

Petri only said things like the royal staff when he was in a particularly puckish mood. “I doubt it, Petri,” Damien growled. “I doubt it. I will not be sated with her until I’m old, gray, and half dead.”

“You do have it bad, Your Highness.” Petri hid his grin, not very successfully.

Penelope had won over Sasha with her healing powers, and now she’d won Petri with her understanding and concern. Damien had no doubt she would walk into Nvengaria and win over the Council of Dukes, the Council of Mages, and Alexander himself in the space of an hour. That is, if she got the chance. Alexander would not give up without a bloody and vicious fight.

Petri eased Damien’s tight-cut coat over his shoulders. For this ritual, Damien wore the military-style clothing of the rulers of Nvengaria—dark blue coat hung with too many medals, military breeches and boots. Last, Petri settled a sash of cloth-of-gold over Damien’s right shoulder and fastened it at his left hip.