Page 2 of Skotos
I could see her so clearly when I closed my eyes—her serious brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses and posture too upright for a girl her age. She had always been too guarded, too grown up for her tender age, but every so often, she’d let the façade drop in her letters, and I’d catch glimpses of the girl beneath, the one who sat between us following our flight to the Hungarian border, trembling but trying so damn hard not to show it.
It took time—years, really—but she was adjusting, healing, growing into someone sharp and stubborn and brilliant. Her grief hadn’t vanished—but it no longer consumed her. Thinking about that made me smile.
She was still there. Still fighting. Still Eszter.
My gaze drifted toward Thomas, his near-black hair plastered to his scalp in a mess only a good workout could create. His eyes were narrowed slightly, lips quirked in concentration as he read. He was a disaster—and the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. It was all I could do to stop staring before he glanced up and made some smart remark about me pining after him.
That’s when I caught sight of the headline, bold and somber, stretching across the top of Thomas’s paper.
My heart stilled.
“What’s that about the king of Greece?”
Thomas didn’t look up. “He died. Yesterday, I think.” He turned a page, eyes scanning, clearly uninterested in the royal passing.
“That’s all it says?”
“More or less. I didn’t really read the article.” He shrugged. “You know how monarchies are.”
I frowned and leaned closer, the peace of the morning fracturing just a little at the edges.
“Hand me the front page,” I said.
Thomas passed it over without ceremony, and I unfolded it on the table, skimming the article. The words were terse, the tone overly formal. I read aloud, mostly to myself. “They say it was natural causes. He died in his garden.”
Thomas finally looked up. “People die, Will. Even kings.”
“Sure,” I muttered. “But something feels . . . off.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow, then smirked faintly. “You always say that.”
“And I’m usually right.”
“You’re always suspicious.” He thought a moment, then sharpened his gaze and set his half-read paper on the table. “But sure, youareusually right. What else does it say?”
I smoothed the brittle page, cleared my throat, and read,
LE MONDE– April 6, 1950
Sudden Death of King Paul of Greece
By Henri Leclair, Foreign Correspondent
ATHENS – The Greek royal household confirmed yesterday the sudden death of His Majesty King Paul I, who collapsed while walking alone in the private gardens of the Tatoi Palace on Wednesday afternoon. A palace spokesperson stated that the king, age forty-eight, had shown no signs of illness prior to his death and had been in “excellent health” according to his personal physicians.
Witnesses say the king had been spending the afternoon with his wife, Queen Frederica, and their ten-year-old son, Crown Prince Constantine, before retiring for a moment of solitude among the flowering hedges and olive trees he often referred to as his sanctuary.
Palace officials report that His Majesty was discovered unresponsive by a royal attendant shortly after the family had returned indoors. An official statement cites “natural causes,” with further clarification expected pending a full medical report.
The king’s death comes at a delicate time for Greece, still recovering from the devastation of civil war and caught in the ideological tug-of-war between East and West. Memorial arrangements are underway, with a state funeral expected to draw dignitaries from across Europe.
In the same announcement, the palace confirmed that a regency would be established for the ten-year-old Crown Prince Constantine, who is presumed heir to the throne. While no regenthas yet been officially named, palace observers speculate that Queen Frederica, the late king’s widow, will assume the role in the interim.
I wasn’t sure I bought it. The palace’s explanations felt scripted, and the king didn’t appear to suffer from any malady. Still, Greece was a world away from Paris, and we had our hands full without adding other people’s worries to our plates.
I shrugged, folded the paper back up, and set it aside. “Let’s get home and clean up before the rest of the day finds us.”
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