Page 3 of Vows to a King
Hands clasped behind his back, her father cast her an assessing glance. “With that much faith in the Queen, you better prepare yourself then.”
Jemima turned her head so fast that it was a wonder there wasn’t a loud click. “Prepare myself for what?”
“To join the Queen in persuading Adonis to wed you and take the crown.”
“No!” The word escaped her like the loud gong of the monastery up in the hills she’d once planned to run away to. “That’s preposterous. I can’t marry…the Devil Prince. We don’t even know each other and I’m sure I’m the last woman he would glance at.”
Except for a scorching, stolen kiss they’d shared once and the fairy tales she’d woven as a young girl with him as the charming hero who would rescue her from her boring, miserable life.
The Devil Prince falling in love with her was as possible as her father turning into a caring man overnight.
“Of what use are you then, Jemima?” her father said with a silken smoothness that made it sound like he was actually interested in her answer. “Don’t pretend to silly romantic aspirations now. It’s not like Prince Adamos cared for you either. No man is impressed with that face and body of yours and either Prince should do to become Queen.”
Her belly rolled on itself at the casual cruelty of his comments. “Do you hear how…awful that sounds? I can’t just replace one brother with the other. Adamos has been hardly dead for a week.”
“You can and you will. If anything, our family will have even more bargaining power in this alliance now. Queen Isadora needs to bring the Devil Prince to heel and she knows what she has in you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Prince Adonis has been gone for seven years. With the best of intentions to rule, he needs someone who understands the palace and its politics. You would be an asset to him. As for you suiting him…the man has a reputation forchasing any womanand the face of an angel. So it should not be a hardship for you to produce children with him,ne?”
Jemima raised shocked eyes to her father’s face. “That’s…disgusting.”
Her father shrugged. “The point is, nothing holds his interest for too long. So you can be assured he will return to his daredevil ways, while leaving you behind. As the Queen, you will have a host of powers. With me and the council bearing the burden of important decisions, you can devote yourself fully to your brother and any children the Prince will give you.Andhave full control of your life. It is not such a bad deal then, is it?”
So that was his brilliant plan. He was counting on Adonis to be bored—of his responsibilities, of her, and the kingdom. Then, with her as a placeholder, her father and his cronies would have unprecedented power.
As for her, shewould havefull control of her life and Zayn for the first time… Even as she abhorred his plan and the idea of marrying the Devil Prince gave her chills, Jemima was sorely tempted.
“I can’t, Papa. Please—”
“It is not up for discussion, Jemima. Present yourself for dinner with him tonight. Remember that you get to keep your bastard brother around only if you convince Prince Adonis that you are his best bet at ruling Thalassos.”
Jemima stood there on the parapet for long minutes after her father left. The sun began its fiery trek down, leaving the courtyard and the parapet and her painted in bold orange and pink slashes.
A cold breeze flew in from the Aegean, making her shiver.
As if she’d screamed his name from the highest tower, Prince Adonis looked up. His alert gaze scanned the myriad parapets and terraces before settling on her. And just like that, the world fell away, leaving the two of them locked together in their own battle.
Eventually, Jemima broke away from his gaze, but not before those penetrating blue eyes swept over her features with a thorough scrutiny. Then his mouth curved in pure mockery, as if he could read her and her father’s grubby intentions, as if he knew how much of a pull he still held over her.
* * *
It hadn’t been more than half a day since Adonis Vasilikos had arrived back in Thalassos and he was already enraged by the machinations of those who ran the palace.
Yes, he’d been gone for seven years but the staff was as ancient as the palace and knew of his utter hatred for protocol. But of course, they still insisted on it. And the last thing he wanted to do was throw a prissy tantrum and play into their hands. Which had been his default once upon a time.
He’d barely gotten a word in with his mother and he had yet to catch a glimpse of his father. Who, he’d been informed, was too unwell to attend his favorite son’s burial.
Once the funeral procession had been complete, a host of admin staff had descended on him like vultures circling carrion. Already, he’d been given a schedule of events for the next three days, the final draft of a speech—written without any input from him—he was to deliver in two days, a list of public appearances for him to show his face at.
All the while the truth barely settled inside his gut, like a lump of oily sludge, making it hard to breathe.
Adamos was gone.
His older brother, his first and sometimes only friend in the entire world…gone in a puff of smoke.
His serious, silent and endlessly supportive brother, the man destined to be King, the man Adonis had adored…now out of reach forever.
