Chapter 18

The Heir

The entire chamber went silent for a breath

before Anastasia screamed in indignation. “You can’t name your

bastard your heir.”

“I can, I will, and I have.”

“But, he’s a bastard,” she screeched.

His father smiled at Aleksi, who still was

not certain he had heard him right. “Aleksandr is my son, and I may

not have been married to his mother, but I loved her, and she loved

me.”

Aleksi sat back. It was the first time his

father had ever even mentioned his mother. Somehow, hearing that he

was born of love, not mere lust, mended another small part of the

hole in his heart where he had buried his mother.

“And,” his father said as he slowly turned

back around to face Anastasia, “he is the only person in my

immediate family who has acted, as Princess Sahar so succinctly put

it, in an honorable and princely manner.” He pivoted back to

Aleksi, who sat taller with his father’s praise. “Even as a stable

boy, he always made me proud, and will make me more so as a good

and honorable king.”

“King Asad,” Anastasia whined. “How can you

sit there and allow this travesty? Surely you can see that my

father has been touched in the head by his illness?”

“I see a man who loves his son, and a son who

has earned that love and more,” King Asad told her. “I see a king,

a good king, whose entire family, but for this son, has conspired

against him, have tried to murder him, not for the sake of his

kingdom, but for their own vanity and greed.” He gave her a

withering glare. “In truth, when he asked for my opinion on this, I

encouraged him to name Aleksandr successor to his throne.”

Aleksi sat speechless, unable to do more than

nod his appreciation to King Asad, who dipped his head in

acknowledgment.

Anastasia stood, her face the same

pomegranate hue of her gown. “I do not have to stand for this,” she

shrilled. “My mother, your counselors, they will never allow this

aberration.”

“Your mother and her co-conspirators are

already prisoners in my palace,” their father told her. “I sent

word back to my chief counselor days before I arrived here.”

“Well, I, you…”

“You and your mother have lost your palace

coup.” Queen Oona spoke for the first time, her voice as calm and

serene as her face, and no less forbidding because of it. “I

suggest you take your father’s more than generous offer of exile

and pack yourself and your prince off to his city, before his

family hears of your disgrace and disallows your marriage.”

Aleksi couldn’t help but grin as Anastasia

huffed out of the chambers, blowing hot air from her cheeks as she

waited impatiently for Brawn to slide open the bolt. Once she was

gone, Brawn stood sentry at the door and Aleksi’s father stood

before him.

“Do you accept my offer, my son? Will you

return to our home as my heir and successor to be trained in the

art and politics of ruling a kingdom?”

Aleksi glanced at Sahar, who sat beaming at

him. She’d been right about his father, and equally right about

him. He was a stubborn, arrogant ass. But she’d also called him

good, honorable, and princely. He vowed then and there to prove her

right. To prove his father right in choosing him. His heartache of

regret was that Sahar had not chosen him to be her husband. That

she would not be his queen.

He stood and clasped his father’s forearm. “I

accept, Father,” he said. “My only condition is that I remain here

until the matter of a war is settled between King Asad and King

Ox.”

His father clasped his arm tighter. “Of

course, Aleksandr. A king must hold to his alliances.”

Sahar sat in bemusement as everyone in the

chambers, including Brawn, stepped up to congratulate Aleksi and

Maksimillian. She was glad for Aleksi. Thrilled, actually. Proven

right in a way even she hadn’t dreamed of. As for herself, she

would never be more than a memory to him. She had lost her chance

of loving him, of him ever learning to love her. She had chased him

away and into the arms of Ursula, who had been smart enough to

accept his marriage proposal when he was nothing more than a king’s

bastard to the world.

Ursula would make him a good wife, the wife

he wanted, a wife of strong body and easy temper, but she would

never love him as Sahar had, as Sahar did—this she knew down to her

marrow. She knew she loved him, and, she realized, she had almost

from the moment she’d met him. Her pride and stubbornness had kept

her from admitting her love, even to herself.

She’d been so set in her mind that love had

to be a certain way that she had been willfully blind when it came

to her as an arrogant, strutting stallion who teased her,

challenged her, and called her his tigress. She dared not admit it

to him now that he would be king. He would think his change in

fortune was the reason for her accepting him.

She was too late. He was betrothed to

another.

As if reading her thoughts, Aleksi turned to

her, his head cocking slightly. She stood and walked across the

room to him with a shaky smile. “Congratulations, Aleksandr.”

“Thank you, princess.”

He dipped his head, and that shock of

sun-kissed hair fell over his forehead. She started to reach out

and push it up, and then stopped her hand in midair. His brown eyes

darkened to earthy loam and he took her hand in his and kissed the

backs of her fingers.

“Thank you for what you said to my father,”

he told her, still holding her hand in his. His big, strong hand

that knew her body more intimately than she did.

“I spoke the truth,” she said, slowly pulling

her hand from his.

He dropped his hand and flexed his fingers.

“It gladdens me that you think so.” His voice was low and

caressing…and confusing.

“Ursula has chosen well for her husband,” she

said.

He cocked his head. “Yes,” he agreed, and

managed to say it without gloating. “She has chosen the best of

men.”

Sahar swallowed past the lump in her throat.

“You will both do well, as a king and a wife,” she said, her voice

cracking.

Aleksi quirked his brows. “We will both do

our best, I’m certain.” He reached out and tucked a stray curl

behind her ear. “Sahar, I…”

She started to lean her cheek into his palm,

and then she stepped back, away from his touch. He may not want

Ursula the way he wanted Sahar, but she was not going to play the

wanton.

“I must go,” she told him, though she had

nowhere she needed to be other than alone with her tears and

regrets. He would marry Ursula. Sahar’s own stubborn idiocy had

kept her from seeing what was right in front of her, had kept her

from deserving his hand in marriage, and what she wanted most in

this world, his love.

She took another step back, and that was when

she realized that every person there had been watching them and

listening to them. She turned on her heels and fled the

chambers.

Aleksi’s first instinct was to go after

Sahar, to chase her down and shake her, or kiss her, until she told

him what was going on in that beautiful, maddening head of hers. He

ran a hand back through his hair, his throat catching as he

recalled how she had started to reach up to push his hair back, and

then stopped.

She had started to say and do several things

before fleeing the chambers that had him wracking his brain and

shaking his head, including her congratulations on Ursula’s and

Pyotr’s betrothal, which had not been officially announced yet, but

he wasn’t surprised she knew. News traveled fast in a palace.

He wondered how long it would take for news

of his change in status to be common knowledge, and figured the

odds of it staying a secret until the feast tomorrow eve were slim

to none. In fact, he would wager every gold piece in his purse that

Anastasia was even now spreading her venomous version of what had

transpired in King Asad’s council chambers. Another new reality of

his changed life was that winning or losing those eighty and two

gold pieces would neither make nor break him, not anymore. As a

wealthy prince, he was on even footing with Sahar now. Whether that

would make a difference to her seemed to be out of his hands, and

he wasn’t certain he’d want it to.

“Aleksandr.”

Aleksi turned from the closed door he had

been staring at, the door she had practically run out of, to King

Asad.

“Stay,” the king said. “Our allies’

emissaries will be joining us soon. If you are to learn to be a

king, you should stay for the war council.”

“Of course.” Aleksi took the seat offered by

his father’s side.

Asad’s son, Asim, stayed in his seat as his

mother, Queen Oona, stood and kissed her husband on his cheek.

Aleksi didn’t miss how the king held onto his queen’s hand until

their fingers slipped apart as she moved away from the table, or

the look of pure adoration on his face as he watched the graceful

sway of her skirts disappear through the door. The king grinned,

unabashed and unapologetic as he leaned back on his seat, and

Aleksi felt a stab of jealousy pierce his chest. To be able to love

a woman so openly, so freely, so completely.

And to have her love you back.

The door opened, and Brawn escorted ten and

six men, all in richly embroidered robes denoting their importance,

into the chambers. Aleksi’s father introduced him to the group,

who, one by one explained who they represented and why they had

allied with Asad over the Ox. Each emissary informed the council of

any new developments and discussed what was to be done.

“The Ox knows how outnumbered he is by now,”

the emissary to the Oryx said. “He would be a fool to insist on

waging a war he can’t win.”

“True enough,” Asad agreed. “But my

experience with the Ox has proved him to be a fool of the greatest

order. This war of his is nothing more than a grudge match over

twenty years in the making. I don’t believe he cares how many

others would die, as long as he could cause me and my queen

pain.”

“What if this grudge match could be settled

without a war?” Aleksi offered. “What if the Wolf and I finished

our fight, which the Ox is using as an excuse to wage his war, and

settled it between us, man to man?”

“No.” His father was adamant. “You can’t.

You’re to be my successor. You can’t put yourself in such

danger.”

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