Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
W ITH ONE SILKY remark Prince Adonis reminded Jemima that it was she who needed this marriage. Desperation stole her composure and the comportment she’d been taught at the finishing school her father had banished her to for years.
He radiated distaste as if he were a melting glacier and she dared not touch him. As much as a part of her wanted to soothe him. And that too, she told herself, was an impulse left over from a lifetime of pretending subservience. One that she needed to break with him. “I vow to give you everything I can, Prince Adonis. My unflinching loyalty whether you’re in Thalassos or not, my political expertise, my knowledge of the inner workings of the palace. Every little bit of cunning information my father has secretly amassed about the power players. But I cannot pretend that this marriage is…anything but an arrangement and temporary at that. In fact, except to produce the required two children, I think we should refrain from any physical association.”
From behind her, the light shifted, suddenly leaving his features in shadows, as if it were in cahoots with him. As if it too wanted to please him.
When he remained stubbornly silent, she huffed in frustration. What did the man want of her? “You can’t honestly tell me that you’ll be faithful to me beyond the few minutes you’ll spend in my bed,” she bit out. “At least Adamos was honest about what we were getting into.”
And she knew, the moment those words landed on her own ears, something precious and pure had been stripped from her by her father’s constant criticism and relentless demands over the years. When had she become so unwilling to give life a chance, begun to think so little of herself? When had she become so judgmental and self-righteous that she would spit on an offer made in good faith?
Also, it was the worst thing she could have said to the man she’d nearly begged to marry. No, bringing the dead brother he hadn’t fully grieved yet into the discussion was the worst.
But she was beginning to see that the Devil Prince was unlike his brother. Or any man she’d known. Even the moniker seemed like nothing but a mask. One of several he used to hide his true self from the world.
He didn’t betray anything, even at her direct insult. Whatever else he pretended to be for the rest of the world, Adonis Vasilikos exercised his control as though it were the jaws of a steely vise.
No shadow, no mockery, not a sliver of anger showed across his features. Only a slick smile coasted over those sinful lips, as if she had been relegated to the rubbish heap in his head. “I have a better idea, Princess,” he said, using the mocking address she was beginning to hate. “How about we do not produce these required two children the fun, traditional way at all?”
“What do you mean?” Jemima whispered, her heart hammering in her chest.
“It is clear that you’re willing to wear the crown and sacrifice yourself at the altar of Thalassos’s well-being for reasons of your own. But I find it extremely distasteful, not to mention downright disgusting, to touch a woman who will bear it under sufferance. As you cleverly reminded me, I’ve never been deprived of the sources of infinite pleasure.”
Jemima stared, with no apology to offer in return, for she had dug the hole to bury their tentative truce with her own hands. Still, she said, “I’m not sure I understand.”
“I’m a very possessive sort of man, Princess, for all that I don’t get possessive about most things in life. The idea of my wife, the mother of my children, cavorting with some lover…fills me with distaste. I’d rather we stay strangers to create these children. Science has come up with all kinds of neat little tricks, ne ?”
That the last thing she wanted was a lover when she’d be bound to him rose to her lips but she pushed it away. She’d ruined any chance of truce between them already. “And you, Adonis?” she demanded, provoked by both distrust and a gnawing sense of loss. “Would you promise to not look at another woman in this marriage of ours?”
“You have lost the chance to find out, Princess,” he added, without a trace of bitterness. As if he had already overcome the insult she had dealt him.
To her utter dismay, their little heart-to-heart apparently wasn’t over yet. For one miserable moment, she thought it would be better if he rejected her and her stupid, desperate proposal, even at this last minute.
But, as she was beginning to learn, Adonis Vasilikos was a man of his word, of integrity, of kindness even. The last an impossible quality to find in men of power.
With smooth movements, he opened a dark blue velvet box that looked tiny and fragile within his fingers. “I asked Mama to have this brought out this morning from the crown treasury.”
In his hands, the emerald and sapphire ring shone brilliantly, the simplicity of its cut emphasizing the regal beauty of the stones. It was as different as could be possible from the diamond monstrosity Adamos had pushed onto her finger with such alacrity that she had felt utterly humiliated.
“This comes from Mama’s line,” Prince Adonis said, a strange grief dancing in his eyes. “I’m told it has been worn by strong, selfless women through centuries.”
Her breath punched out of her lungs so painfully that Jemima would have slid to the floor if not for the wall at her back.
She knew, as surely as the loud clamoring of her heart, that Adonis had picked the ring for her specifically. That he had meant to honor their arrangement as much as was possible given the strange circumstances surrounding it.
That, despite his mockery of protocol, and grief over his brother, and anger at being shackled to her and the kingdom, he had appreciated her, like no one else ever had.
Adonis Vasilikos, the Devil Prince, the man who could have anything and anyone in the world, had seen something of note in her. Had seen her, period.
If there was a moment in her life where Jemima would have given up all pretense of strength and bawled her eyes out, it was that. All through her life, she had lost countless precious things—friendships and opportunities and freedom and something as fundamental as a sense of self—thanks to her father’s autocratic nature. But this loss of the…tentative trust between her and this man, hit harder than anything else, for she had wrought it with her own hands.
“Adonis—”
“You might think it all the same,” he said, reaching for her hand, “but I find it tacky to marry you with my brother’s ring on your finger. Even if it’s the renowned Pink Diamond ring worn by every Queen of Thalassos.” Blue eyes, of the shade of arctic frost, held hers. “But I’m also not a man who forces his views or his touch on a woman. So choose for yourself, Princess.”
Her fingers shook in his grasp even as soft heat pooled where he touched her. Her pulse went haywire under the pad of his thumb, as if rushing to say the words she couldn’t form.
The tips of his fingers lingered over her empty ring finger, his surprise evident in the sudden tightness of his jaw.
“I removed the ring as soon as I heard of his death,” she said, not mentioning his brother by name. “And I want the one you picked. For me.”
He didn’t look remotely mollified by her obvious and pathetic attempt to make up for her words. Neither did he shove the ring onto her finger with tasteless hurry or distasteful apathy. Even in his anger, Adonis Vasilikos remained in utter control.
He slid the ring onto her finger with extreme care, as if the moment was precious and…real.
And suddenly, Jemima realized that for him, it was real. That it was his greatest duty and commitment to Thalassos, and therefore automatically extended to her.
Because while she had made arrogant claims about it, he truly saw this as an equal partnership between them, if nothing else.
* * *
Adonis wasn’t sure why he was fuming with anger and some darker emotion that he couldn’t even pin down as he stormed back into the summit room.
His betrothed was apparently both practical and cynical, which only increased her value as a perfect candidate for the role of his wife. She demanded nothing from him, even as she gazed at him with a hunger he recognized within himself. And more than just a carnal one too.
Knowing her father’s reputation for cruelty and his exacting demands of her over the years—the extent of which Mama had revealed to him only last night—meant this morning, he could see the same shadows of self-doubt and distrust mirrored in her wide amber eyes. Even in that, she was a perfect match for him, for he had lived with the same for years. Neither did she want the performative pretensions to love.
Mistakenly, he had assumed that it would make them grounded partners who could have a real marriage with trust and respect and fidelity, who could focus on the well-being of their children and that of Thalassos.
Instead, her utter lack of belief in him before they had even gotten started, grated like a thorn stuck under his skin. Like the wound that had continued to fester for years.
It was the same casual distrust that his father had shown him for nearly three decades, eroding his self-confidence from within like some great disease. Until he had realized that he was his father’s shame, a weapon used by Mama in her own rebellion against him. The harm had been done by the time she had realized that.
Now, the last thing he wanted was another relationship where he constantly had to prove himself or was measured against Adamos. But for all his threats to her, it was too late to find another candidate, as much as he itched to do so.
And the fact was that no other woman would do as well as Jemima Nasar. His talk with Mama last night had confirmed his own instincts.
Jemima’s refusal to committing to making their marriage a half-decent thing was one thing. That he had made her the offer was in itself a shock.
Not once in his life had he considered marriage before last night. But, apparently now that he’d agreed to enter the institution, a part of him wanted stability he hadn’t known as a child for his own children, a solid foundation from which to rule Thalassos.
Her blatant honesty had appealed to him so much that he had realized he wanted something as close to a true partner as he could achieve.
Then there was the attraction between them. Something about Jemima Nasar had always provoked fiery desire in him.
Contrary to how the media painted him and that he allowed—to build his reputation as a daredevil—he didn’t go around sleeping with every available woman.
At least not in the last decade, when he had stepped away from the toxic cloud of his father’s presence. If it wasn’t the imaginary crown on his head that drew women—especially of the shallow, superficial variety—it was the genetic lottery he had won.
The fact that women were drawn to the specific arrangement of his features—the very same his father had passed on but hated looking upon—had nothing to do with who he was beneath.
It worked fine when he had mistaken lust and covetousness for approval and affection and nearly drowned himself in it. But now, he knew better. And he had to admit, he wanted better for himself. He wanted a fulfilling life that challenged him to be a better man and a good king, and he wanted it with a family.
For months, he had been aware of his growing restlessness, of falling into a rut, that even chasing the most dangerous high couldn’t cure him of. For the first few moments when he’d heard of Adamos’s accident, he’d felt an overwhelming relief, because it meant he could return home under the pretext of caring for his brother.
He had missed his brother and mother, and even though it galled him to admit it, Thalassos itself. Without his family around him, he had felt…alone.
As hollow as the halls felt without the commanding presence of his brother, the challenge of ruling Thalassos with a capable, strong woman like Jemima by his side…last night, it had felt like destiny. Like the very fate he had been trying to outrun for so long. Like, finally, he could spin some kind of meaning out of his life.
Maybe he was a fool to think that it could be a real marriage based on trust and respect. Maybe she was right to question him about his commitment to her, because, when had he truly devoted himself to anything before? Maybe he was what his father had always called him…
A crow in the cuckoo’s nest, a man who would never be his brother’s equal, or good enough—smart enough or strong enough—to take on the mantle of Thalassos in any way.
And yet, the duty had come to him. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at fate for giving him what he’d always wished for, but in the worst way possible.
“As pleased as I am to serve the royal family and Thalassos in every capacity, I am disturbed by this…inappropriate conduct in public, Your Highness.” A deep voice disturbed the fraught silence. “Am I to assume that you’ve decided to take pity on my daughter after the grievous loss of your brother?”
Adonis looked up to find Aziz Nasar staring up at him with that oily smile on his lips. All the members of the crown council watched him and Jemima with the same expressions, following the top dog. He sensed Jemima’s presence behind him and moved a step back so that she stood by him. Whatever their personal differences and his anger with her at her supposition of his character, he knew that she was his one true ally. And neither did he forget that he had made her the target of her father’s ire by declaring their…association so publicly.
Adonis clasped Jemima’s hand in his and felt her stiffen. Donning a completely besotted smile, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. She trembled from head to toe, and this, he knew, was her honest reaction to him. The hungry beast in him calmed.
When he felt her gaze caress his cheek as if it were touch, he found himself smiling.
“If I’m to be the bloody King, I think I’m afforded a few indulgences.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, making a clear statement to her father and the rest. “And if you dare point out that I’m not, then we’ll have to change more things than Jemima tells me need changing over here.”
The silence was instant and deafening, Jemima’s hitch of breath the only sound. Her gaze met his, absolute shock swirling through the amber depths. In answer, he squeezed her fingers harder.
Gratitude flooded those amber depths.
Looking away, Adonis made sure to meet every pair of eyes in the room until they understood that each word he uttered had the power of his might behind it.
One pair, a warm brown, filled with utter joy and full tears. He gave his mother a quick nod, buoyed by the conviction he saw there.
“You’re speaking in riddles and threats, Your Highness,” Aziz Nasar said, with a cutting look Adonis didn’t miss in Jemima’s direction.
Adonis could feel her fear as clearly as if she had been dealt a sudden slap.
“Crown Prince Adamos—”
“Is not here anymore. As much as I respected my brother’s vision and ideas, I’m not him. I will rule Thalassos my way, with Jemima by my side. Is that clear enough for everyone assembled?” A vow Adonis made to himself too—it was the least he could do for the woman who had raised him as his own.
He had no doubt that he would stumble and stutter, but it was better than the alternative—which was this pack of jackals who would bleed Thalassos dry to build their personal fortunes.
A temporary arrangement , Jemima had called his fulfilling of his duty, narrowing on his own doubts perfectly.
But, bored or stifled or challenged, he knew there was no turning back for him.
While he didn’t expect enthusiastic nods and approving pats, he did expect more than the glacial anger he received in return from the council members.
He reined his temper in, for he knew he needed these men to rule well. “The wedding and coronation will go on as planned before. In the meantime, Jemima and I will review the trade treaty documents and see why it stumbled so badly on the last attempt.”
Shock rippled through the room, ending in frenzied whispers.
“Your Majesty,” Aziz said, appealing to his mother. Adonis gritted his teeth against the clear disrespect, even as Jemima squeezed his fingers, as if urging him to practice patience. “The public must be allowed the formal mourning period, to grieve Crown Prince Adamos in the proper way. This…” he gestured toward Adonis and Jemima in a slashing motion, as if it were tacky to even look upon, “will give rise to terrible rumors about the royal family, add fuel to the talk of rift between the brothers, make a mockery of the most sacred institutions that form the basis of the crown.”
An irreverent snort escaped Adonis’s mouth and he instantly regretted it. For he could sense his mother stiffen at Aziz Nasar’s words. His father, the great King Aristos, had committed the sin of mocking their marriage, even though the knowledge wasn’t public.
“It is true,” Adonis said, his mother on one side and Jemima on the other, “that the palace PR team has done a shoddy job of representing the royal family. I’m bringing in my entire team here, along with new assistants for my mother and Jemima. Any messaging about this engagement and the upcoming wedding will be handled by them.”
Aziz instantly changed tack. “Better to paint it that you’re taking pity on my daughter in her hour of loss, Prince Adonis. It would go a long way toward pacifying the Thalassan public instead of provoking them into thinking that you’re stealing their beloved Prince’s bride along with his kingdom.”
“Thalassans love Adonis as much as they loved Adamos, Aziz, if not more. That has been made clear by the welcome he received from them,” his mother said, pure steel to her tone.
Adonis met Jemima’s eyes and saw the simmering anger there. He tightened his fingers over her hip, urging her to speak out. Her fear of the hateful man had his insides burning with fury. He hated bullies of any kind and Aziz Nasar was one.
Jemima’s chest rose and fell on shallow breaths before she said, “Prince Adonis and I are making the best out of a hard situation, Papa. While I loathe the idea of painting it as some fairy-tale romance, I would also hate being portrayed as the recipient of pity or to be seen as a sacrifice he’s making. This is and will be a partnership. Neither should anyone forget that Prince Adonis is giving up his personal life to take up the mantle of the royal family.
“The Prince’s teams will have the final say but I would like to state that we’re starting from a basis of friendship and trust and well-being of Thalassos as the foundation for this marriage.”
She said the whole thing holding his gaze.
The same admiration he felt for her burned there too, giving rise to fresh curiosity.
For all the stuff she’d told him about her relationship with Adamos, did she still hold affection for him? Or was her rejection of his idea because of who Adonis himself was?
“I should think your doubts put to rest, Aziz,” his mother said, satisfaction ringing in her words. “And that you and the rest of the council will extend Prince Adonis every support that you have offered my husband and my older son.”
Deafening silence greeted him.
Adonis knew even the Queen’s command wasn’t enough for them. Christos, what had Adamos been up to, letting these old vultures puff up with their inflated sense of arrogance? Why hadn’t he shown them their place? How dare they challenge the Queen’s direct command?
It was time to flex his claws. Men like Jemima’s father only understood a show of power. “One more thing,” he said, infusing a silky undertone. “I do hope that any more attempts at finding long-lost cousins from broken branches of the Vasilikos family will end today. Or I will treat any such efforts as treason toward the royal family and the crown.”
With his mother on one arm and Jemima on the other, he walked out of the summit room. But not before he caught the pale, horrified faces of the members of the crown council.
And if he felt a well of conviction rise up at Jemima’s whispered “Well done,” he tucked it away in the farthest corners of his heart like a giddy child.