Page 8 of Vows to a King
Something flashed in her eyes and was gone before he could pin it down. “And I’m your best candidate.”
“You want to marry me,” Adonis said, the words swimming through his veins like thick honey. “That’s what your agenda is all about.” For just a second, the prospect of finally unraveling all of Jemima was…intoxicating.
Until reality crashed into him, filling him with self-disgust. “My brother is hardly cold in the grave and you have already found a new way to reach your goal? Is there no end to your ambition, Princess?”
If he thought her dignity would crack at his direct attack, he’d have been disappointed. If anything, her spine straightened, her eyes flat with resolve. “I’ve spent the last five years learning the ins and outs of this kingdom’s politics. Learning who is to be trusted, who is playacting, and who has grudges they’re nurturing against the royal family. I have the kingdom and the crown’s best interests at heart. As for Adamos…”
His breath hung suspended in his throat as something danced in her eyes. “What about him?”
She hesitated, her hand going to her temple. “I… I don’t wish to sully his memory.”
“Contrary to popular opinion, I know that my brother wasn’t a saint. Adamos was a man with his own set of desires and flaws, despite my father calling him perfect.” Somehow, he kept his own bitterness out of his voice. “It’s a disservice to the man he was to turn him into some kind of god.”
Jemima’s head came up in a jerk. “I see now why Adamos loved you so much.” Something lingered in her words. Instead of probing, he waited.
“Clearly, you feel the same about him.” Her eyes swam with sudden tears. “I’m so sorry, Prince Adonis, for your loss.”
He nodded, feeling the chokehold of his grief loosen just a little bit. For the first time in days, he felt…seen. Understood. To hell with the kingdom and politics, he had lost a brother and his friend.
“If you want me to consider your proposition, nothing but the truth will do, Jemima,” he said, testing her name on his lips.
“I’m confiding in you only because I expect our partnership,” she said, without acknowledging his apology, as if she didn’t dare trust it, “to be at least courteous, Adonis. You will respect me, even if you despise me.”
Admiration filled him at the steely core she hid beneath the reserve and he gave her a swift nod. Realizing he had always respected her.
Turning toward the window seat, she gave him her profile. He had a feeling she didn’t want to meet his eyes for this part. “Adamos and I had a purely political, perfectly polite relationship. The palace media of course painted it as a fairy tale for the masses. He has—” grief and something else burned in her eyes “—he had barely even kissed me in five years of our engagement.” She roughly swiped at the lone tear that dared fall on her cheek. “Like you, your brother thought me a necessary nuisance, if not evil, that he should keep close. To appease my father and have his support, he agreed to the engagement. But he…never tried to learn who I was.”
The last she added almost to herself but Adonis heard it. And he heard the oceans-deep pain in it too.
“Jemima…”
She shook her head, forestalling him. “I no more want your pity than I deserve your disgust. My grief for your brother is…like any other Thalassan’s. Great, yes, but completely impersonal. Adamos would have been a good king and his loss…might fracture the very fabric of peace in Thalassos. And so,” she turned and met his eyes, hers clear of any emotion, “yes, I can easily swap one Vasilikos brother for another. And yes, I’m prepared to be Queen and help you rule Thalassos, outside of the crown council’s immense pressure. It’s all I know how to do. As for my loyalties, they were with my father when I was forced on this path. But the last few years, they have shifted toward Thalassos, and now to myself.”
“Why?” The question burst out of Adonis, his mind whirling on so much new information. He had not an inkling of doubt that she was telling the truth. In fact, Jemima was one of those rare people, especially among the palace, who wore truth like some kind of armor.
“Why what?” she said, bristling at his alleged disbelief.
He cupped her shoulder when she’d have turned away. “My brother was devoted to his duty, yes, and far too rigid and reserved to believe in love and passion but he…he must have developed some affection for you.”
She moved, to throw off his hand, and began piling up the books spread around on the window seat. “I believe his affections, and passions, were engaged elsewhere.”
Her answer stunned him, for he hadn’t expected one. Much less one ringing with absolute conviction. “What do you mean?”
“I heard…rumors.” Her cheeks flushed as she kneeled at the window, picking up chocolate wrappers and loose paper. “I confronted him.”
He went to his haunches to join her. “And?”
She stilled, her fingers twitching around the spines of well-worn books. “He admitted that he had a lover tucked away somewhere. And that he wouldn’t be giving her up anytime soon.” A broken smile danced across her face. “He even gave me the heir and spare speech and said that I was welcome to take a lover after we had both. As long as I was discreet, of course.” Laughter fell from her mouth, devoid of warmth. “Honestly, I don’t think he’d have given a damn even if I fell pregnant by another man. I…didn’t matter to him at all as a woman. Or as a person.”
“That doesn’t sound like my brother,” he bit out more to alleviate her pain than to defend his brother. “I mean, yes, Adamos isn’t emotional or hotheaded or…prone to fickle rages.” Like him. “But he isn’t,wasn’tcruel. He must have known how much he was hurting you.”
She shrugged. “I told you the truth as I know it. Whether you believe me or not is up to you.”
He shot to his feet and reached out a hand. She didn’t take it and got to her feet on her own.
Anger drummed through him at her small defiance, at his brother’s behavior, at all the secrets pulsing within the damned walls. The same straining tension that he had left behind once. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take this time either.
“What?” he said, when her gaze danced over his face. “What else is left, Jemima?”
