Penelope and Prince Charming (Nvengaria #1)(70)

But he knew that ordering the Nvengarians to observe a day of mourning would not have been popular. The people wanted to spend all their time preparing for bloody Prince Damien and his princess.

However, the newspapers tomorrow morning would all show precise engravings of Alexander placing the wreath on his wife’s tomb. The entire first page would be devoted to a description of the ceremony and a remembrance of the Grand Duchess’s life. The people might worship Damien, but Alexander controlled the printers.

He’d summoned Nedrak and had not been very surprised when Nedrak informed him that his ridiculous scheme of sending a logosh after Damien and Penelope had not worked. The failure had only heightened the superstitious Nedrak’s belief in the prophecy.

If the head of the Council of Mages turned on Alexander, many would follow. Damn Nedrak, and damn custom for giving an idiot so much power. Nedrak was left over from the dead Imperial Prince’s rule; Alexander had already determined he would handpick Nedrak’s successor.

He turned back to Nedrak. “You have worked hard for me, Nedrak. Perhaps I have not seemed grateful, but I am worried.”

Nedrak nodded, responding to the praise thrown like a crumb to a bird.

Alexander gave him a thoughtful nod. “Yes, I believe I will prepare a banquet in your honor, as a reward for your services. I have been meaning to do so for some time.”

Nedrak’s eyes brightened, his pride stroked. “Why thank you, Your Grace. I have, indeed, been laboring to establish your right to rule Nvengaria.” He paused. “I am sorry the logosh did not work. I was certain he would kill Prince Damien.”

Alexander shrugged. “It was a good idea, thwarted only by the fact that you could capture nothing but a young creature. Not your fault.”

Nedrak preened, and Alexander barely hid his irritation. Nedrak enjoyed drama and romance; Alexander preferred reality.

Damien would fail—Alexander would make certain of it. In fact, Damien had already failed. A few more snares needed to be put in place, then Damien would fall in the eyes of the Nvengarians. And that would be that.

Nedrak asked hesitantly, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do for you this afternoon, Your Grace?”

Alexander turned to the window once more, his hands behind his back. “No, you’ve done enough. You may go about your business.”

The dismissals always infuriated Nedrak—the two men’s positions were considered equal. “Yes, Your Grace.” Nedrak moved to the door, then paused. “May I express my deepest sympathies on the death of the Grand Duchess?”

Alexander swung around, and Nedrak shivered. He could feel the ice of those blue eyes all the way across the huge room.

“Thank you, Nedrak,” Alexander said silkily. As the mage turned to leave, Alexander added, “And, Nedrak.”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Do not speak of my wife again. Ever. Do you understand?”

Nedrak swallowed, his throat dry. “Yes, Your Grace.”

When Alexander looked away, it was like a gate clanging shut. Nedrak scurried into the hall. A stiff, silent attendant closed the door behind him.

“Coldhearted bastard,” Nedrak muttered as he made for the mage’s council halls. Then he cast a swift glance around him, fearing he’d been overheard, gathered up his robes, and ran. Alexander had spies everywhere.



* * *



Sasha was beside himself with excitement that evening when he learned that Penelope had tamed the logosh. Not only had she tamed him, she’d washed him and dressed his wounds, which were already healing. Wulf, in turn, had become fanatically devoted to her.

“It is in the prophecy, sir,” Sasha said to Damien. “And the princess will heal the sick and tame the beast. I did not understand the part about the beast, sir. I thought it referred to you.” He caught Damien’s raised brow and flushed a brilliant red. “Oh, I beg your pardon. I did not mean …”

Damien smiled, but he felt grim. “My life was admittedly wild before I became Imperial Prince, Sasha. But the prophecy seems to be amazingly literal.”

“It is all coming true, Your Highness,” Sasha said happily. “It is all coming true.”

The household was groggily awakening from its enchanted sleep. Mathers, indignantly rousting servants from bedrooms, discovered Rufus and Miles with the two pretty maids, and gave them all a good tongue-lashing. Rufus and Miles resumed their duties looking a bit sheepish but much satisfied.

Petri, on the other hand, sank into remorse. “I failed you,” he said, while he tried to straighten Damien’s bedchamber, picking up things and absently setting them down again. “I have never, ever in my life fallen asleep while I guarded you, not even when we were lads begging for scraps. The logosh could have killed you while you slept, and I could not stay awake to prevent it.” He lifted his chin. “You may put me to the sword, sir. I will deserve it.”

“For God’s sake, Petri,” Damien said testily. “Do not turn dramatic on me, I beg you. You are my voice of reason in this madness, and I need you to remain so. We succumbed to the spell, that is all.”

“You did not succumb,” Petri said morosely.

“Yes, I did. I do not know what woke me, but I was sleeping as hard as anyone else. Penelope awakened when the logosh smashed me into the wall, and so did you.”