Page 5 of Princess Broken

“Your Highness,” Diederik, DEFTA’s head of security, widens his stance as he stands before me. “I don’t think you fully comprehend what you’re walking into, the danger you face by agreeing to meet on their turf. The Marianos are a rogue syndicate. I highly recommend that you hold the meeting here.”

“I fully understand your concerns,” I tell Diederik.

And I do. He’s only doing his job, and my first two meetings with the Mariano syndicate happened here. But their boss refused to attend those meetings. He refuses to come here. And I’ve yet to meet with the vampire who’s actually in charge. It’s clear that no final agreement will be reached until I speak to Mariano directly.

“I’m not sure that you do understand the situation,” Diederik continues. “In the early 1930’s, Octavia struck a deal with the Marianos, and now the king is asking DEFTA to break that deal.”

“I know that, but—”

“Look,” he interrupts me. “I get why the king wants to get DEFTA out of this deal. Most of us here didn’t even know the deal existed. And Octavia used her coercive magic on those of us who did know. But it’s not just the deal. The king is asking the syndicate to give up all their powers of authority. Powers Mariano won’t give up without a fight.”

I smile. I detest the way Diederik is talking to me, framing this as if I have no say in the matter, as if I’m merely a mouthpiece for my father when it’s actually me who’s advising the king on these matters.

“I assure you,” I respond to Diederik, “I have carefully studied this situation. And in the unlikely chance that I am attacked, I am well trained in the art of combat. As is Timur.” Hoping for support, I glance toward the vampire who’s been my friend and constant companion since the day I was weaned from my Maker’s blood. But my old friend keeps his gaze forward, not meeting mine.

“If I walk into this meeting with nine bodyguards,” I gesture toward the excess of security, “it will deliver a highly confrontational and combative message. Exactly the opposite of the conciliatory tone I want to project.”

Diederik grunts.

“What’s your opinion, Timur?” I ask. “Should I take nine bodyguards to this meeting? Ten counting you?”

“Your Highness’s safety is paramount,” Timur says, still staring ahead. “The more guards we bring the better.”

Timur glances toward me, and the pain I see in his eyes nearly knocks me to the floor. As Ember suggested, I told Timur the truth about my feelings, and while I’m certain her advice was sound, it doesn’t lessen my guilt. I’ve caused him so much pain.

Timur is the definition of tall, dark and handsome, with his flawless, light brown skin, lush dark hair, and eyes that flash with wisdom, warmth and intelligence. I can’t deny that I find my blood partner attractive. Objectively attractive. But I don’t feel that flutter or flush that Ember mentioned, that magnetic pull toward him. I don’t have even a hint of a feeling in my heart that would tell me that what Timur and I have between us is love.

Perhaps love is something I’m not destined to feel, and I have no time for such distractions anyway.

Turning away from Timur, I return my attention to the matters at hand. Raising my chin slightly, I address Diederik. “Fine. But if your team comes, I insist that they carry no weapons.”

All nine bodyguards are heavily armed, visibly, not only with wooden stakes and crossbows, but also with guns, the weapons of humans, modern versions of the kind that killed my family.

In fact, these bodyguards look more like soldiers, prepared to go to war, not a meeting.

“Our delegation must make a demonstration of strength,” Diederik says.

“That is not for you to say.” I look at him sternly. “You are in this room to offer me counsel, not to tell me what to do.”

His jaw twitches. “Yes, Your Highness.” The sarcasm in his tone grates.

“Please instruct your team to conceal their weapons,” I say calmly. “In briefcases perhaps, or under their jackets.” I glance toward the team of bodyguards, seven male, two female, all dressed in dark business suits and stern expressions.

“Ahead of you there, Princess.” Diederik nods toward the male at the far right of the grouping.

The tall, square jawed vampire opens his jacket to reveal a lining containing several wooden stakes in addition to the one he’s holding in his hand—not to mention the three crossbows in the holster strapped on his back.

“There will be no visible weapons when we enter the room,” I tell Diederik.

He startles, and even I’m impressed by my commanding tone.

“If you want your team to carry weapons,” I continue, “for the sake of their protection, then please equip them with cases, and do so quickly. I do not want to arrive late to this meeting.”

Diederik grunts, but then ushers his team of goons from the room, leaving me alone with Timur.

“Are you okay?” I ask, stepping toward the tall vampire.

I’m still unaccustomed to seeing Timur dressed in modern day clothes, versus the long linen robes I know he prefers. Today, he’s wearing dark grey slacks and a matching, black-collared shirt and cashmere sweater. Of course, I now realize that wearing the heavy, loose robes he preferred was one of the ways he concealed his lie about being a eunuch.

---