The Goddess (15 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Darius set down his pen. “I’ve already told you. The palace is off limits to the public.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Helene gazed out over a view of her favorite lawn and garden—one where she and Tahlia
often walked.

“It wouldn’t work,” Darius went on. “Certain barriers need to be kept in place.”

A week had passed since the dinner with Tahlia and Otis. Although the men had not
parted best friends, some kind of truce had been reached. Darius had refrained from
steering the conversation toward how his sister should attend college, Otis hadn’t
tried to walk out again, and long-suffering Tahlia had kept her cool.

Darius was trying. Hopefully at some level her advice about respecting Tahlia’s feelings
had sunk in. One individual could not dictate how another ought to live their life—particularly
where matters of the heart were concerned.

And over the past days, with her and Darius secretly engaged and her pregnancy progressing,
Helene couldn’t deny that her feelings were beginning to delve deeper into that area
as well. While this whole soon-to-be-a-royal situation might seem surreal, she was
gradually coming to terms with the idea of living a happy life here with Darius and
their baby.

As he had said, their child would want for nothing, and she knew he’d make a wonderful
father, as Tahlia had said he would. Still, the thought of the ceremony and obligation
that went hand in hand with it all left Helene queasy. She’d exchange this palace
for an ordinary home and an ordinary life in a snap.

Which was probably why she’d made the suggestion to open the doors and broom out some
of the cobwebs and dust from the past. What was wrong with making new friends feel
welcome in your home from time to time?

“What about an hour every fourth Sunday?” she asked, focusing again on the possibility
of opening the palace to the public.

He had crossed to the fax machine. Poring over a document, he replied, “No.”

“Only the throne room, the main reception area, the formal dining room and, of course,
the library. Maybe one day in the whole year?”

“We’ll see.”

“Because I had another thought.”

He twitched his shoulders and pretended to shiver. “This is where I get itchy.”

“We have the figurine in your suite. I was thinking,” she crossed over to him, “we
could bring her out even more. Like into a main reception room.”

He studied her for a long tense moment before returning to his desk. After folding
into his chair, he gave his answer.

“No.”

“We could put her in an inch-thick glass case to make sure she’ll be safe. Then
everyone
can admire her.”

Sitting back, he twirled his silver ring round and round.

“I’ll speak to Yanni,” he finally said. “See what can be done about constructing a
more permanent home for her outside of a safe.”

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a
let’s go one step at a time
and
give poor Darius a break for a while
.”

When Helene swooped over to hug him, he caught and maneuvered her around. At the same
time she landed on his lap, his mouth covered hers. A warm protected feeling wound
through her, leaving her wanting a whole lot more than his kiss.

When his lips left hers, his gaze reflected all the emotions bubbling up inside of
her, too.

“Sure you’re not a lobbyist?” he growled.

“That’s a nice way to say I nag.”

“But with a high rate of success. Perhaps I should put you on my ministry.”

“We’ll call it ‘Minister of Wanting To Spend More Time With You.’”

He was about to kiss her again when a third voice filtered across the room.

“Hard at work, I see.”

Helene wriggled out of Darius’s lap to stand and straighten her dress as, looking
as poised as ever, Tahlia moved into the room.

Darius stood, too. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”

“We’re going into town,” Helene said.

“I just came by to say…” The princess laced her hands before her. “Otis and I are
going away together.”

Darius stiffened. Then his chest made a noise like a boulder rolling down a distant
hill, and his shoulders pinned back.

“You two are
not
eloping.”

Tahlia groaned. “Darius, we’re taking a vacation for a week. After our conversation
the other night, we decided to see Germany together.”

Darius blinked then drew his shoulders back more. “And Otis thought he’d simply leave
without asking permission?”

“Otis intends to speak with you tomorrow. He said that out of respect we wouldn’t
go if you weren’t happy. But I’m letting you know that I’m going either way. I’m giving
you the chance to respect Otis the same way he respects you. As a man. As an equal.”

Tahlia didn’t wait for a reply. She merely kissed them both good-bye then left, displaying
the same dignity with which she’d arrived.

Darius returned to his desk and blindly stared at the blotter while Helene rocked
back on her heels.

“I figure you don’t want to talk about it.”

“You figured right.”

“Are we still on for lunch?”

Darius pretended to concentrate on his laptop screen. “You go without me.”

Okay
. He needed time to absorb Tahlia’s “defiance,” while Helene was only proud of her.
Rather than rake the coals, it was best she leave him alone.

Outside Darius’s office, she passed Yanni speaking to a small group of employees.
He nodded as she walked by. Further down the hall, Tahlia waited.

“How’s he taking it?” Tahlia asked.

“Well, he’s not yelling.”

“He can yell if he wants. I have my life, and I’m going to live it.”

As they walked together, Tahlia inclined her head toward Helene. “Otis likes you.”

“I like him.”

“I told him about that unfinished story. How we’ve searched the palace for the rest
of it with no luck.”

With permission from the occupants, the two had searched the help’s quarters. They’d
ferreted through the room attached to that balcony from which the queen had thrown
herself. They’d searched the library, which was so extensive that the task had proven
to be beyond them.

Helene asked, “Otis thought we should give up?”

“He had an idea where to look next. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.”

When Tahlia showed her to the library, Helene couldn’t contain her disappointment.
Everywhere she looked, soaring walls were filled with books. An ancient globe, cradled
within a mahogany stand, took center stage. The room smelled old and filled with secrets,
but she and Tahlia hadn’t unearthed a one yet.

“We’ve already looked here.”

Tahlia wagged a finger. “Not here.” She headed for a bookshelf. “We both thought this
might be the bookshelf Acacia used to escape.”

Helene waited. “We’ve already looked through the shelves. And under them.”

“But we didn’t look
behind
it.”

Helene leaped with excitement before they tugged, pulled, and pushed the bookshelf
until they were out of breath.

“Maybe we could get some help,” Tahlia said. “Otis could be here in ten.”

Helene thought of how Acacia had shifted it herself that night long ago and, catching
her breath, gave it one last shot.

The wooden base began to grind against the floor. Tahlia jumped forward and they both
heaved. They must have pushed it five feet when they stepped back and looked.

There was nothing behind the bookshelf but more wall.

Tahlia staggered back. “The tunnel’s been closed over.”

“Or there never was a tunnel.”

“Either way, it’s another dead end.”

Helene was more confused than ever. “Why did she leave bits and pieces of that story
all over the place? Why not write the thing then give it to someone to type up and
maybe even publish?”

“You have to remember the times, Helene. Turbulent. Dangerous. Perhaps she wrote when
she could and stuffed the pages away when she had the chance.”

It made sense, but that didn’t make this situation any less frustrating.

Helene had fallen back into a couch. Her gaze drifted around the enormous room. Darius
had said there were volumes of interesting reading in here…but she couldn’t find the
one she and Tahlia were desperate to enjoy.

A maid strolled in, saw them, and promptly turned on her heel.

Helene called out. “You can come in. We were leaving.”

The maid began polishing balustrade while Helene and Tahlia talked on about other
possibilities. After a few minutes, she crossed meekly over.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” she said. “I overheard. You’re searching for lost pages
of a story. Old pages. Hidden somewhere in the palace.”

“Do you know something?” Tahlia asked.

The maid crossed to the globe. “I found this when I began polishing five years ago.
I didn’t tell anyone. Just closed it up again.”

Helene edged over. “Found what?”

The maid bent down and pressed a slate of the globe’s mahogany base. A drawer slid
out. Several yellowed pages lay inside. Tahlia swept them up. Beyond eager, Helene
followed her friend to the sofa and together they began to read.

Leandros’s first instinct was to run to his boat and fight to douse the flames eating
along its lines. This was his second home—his livelihood—but the damage was already
done. The main mast creaked and moaned like a wounded beast then crashed into the
water. The hull would soon be reduced to char and ash. Who had set the fire, and where
were those bastards hiding now?

Acacia leant her cheek against his arm. “Oh, Leandros, your beautiful ship.”

“Do you see anyone?” he asked with his jaw tight.

They surveyed the area but, other than the noise and color of the blaze, all seemed
quiet. Then his focus shifted toward the darkening sky. Sparks carried by a brisk
evening breeze flew from the direction of the palace. A piece of glowing debris caught
a pine tree branch. The spot sizzled and consumed needles before the heat and red
died away.

Acacia rubbed her cheek up and down his shoulder. “What will we do?”

“Take the ship-to-shore boat.”

“A row boat?”

“It has a sail. It’s beached behind those boulders.” He nodded at the sky. “The rebels
are too busy enjoying themselves at the palace to worry about vandalizing anywhere
else just yet. We’ll head for the second island.”

The royal villa would be well stocked.

“And then?”

Turning to her, he placed a kiss on her silken cheek. “From there we go on to do and
be anything and anyone we want.”

…

Hours later, they moored in a rugged cove a sailor would normally avoid. After dragging
the boat on shore and camouflaging it with branches, Leandros lit a torch to see their
way clearly over the pebbled beach. When they happened upon the entrance of a cave,
he moved to hurry them inside, but Acacia stood back.

“The baby’s asleep,” she said. “But he’ll wake hungry and wet. We’ll keep moving until
we reach the villa.”

“We can get supplies, but we can’t stay there. As soon as they can, men will gather,
and when they can’t find you, they’ll look there. They intend to destroy everything
that reminds them of your family, Acacia. Everything that represents its past and
its future.” When an image of her brother flashed in her mind she shivered, suddenly
light-headed, and he gripped her arm. “After you and the baby are settled in, I’ll
go on alone to gather supplies. We’ll sail before dawn.”

They traveled deep inside the cave, stopping at a chamber that looked to be a dead-end.
But as he trailed the crackling torch and its light around, Acacia frowned. This didn’t
make sense.

“Fresh torches mount the walls,” she said. “And that corner is decorated with cushions
and blankets.”

He nodded slowly. “A pirates’ lair.”

“There’s no sign of hidden treasure.” She gravitated toward a ledge. “Other than this.”

Leandros joined her, arcing the torch around their find, illuminating the ample curves
and distinctive lines. Acacia drew a fingertip around the figurine’s cheek. The stone
was smooth and warm. Somehow strangely familiar.

“I overheard Father speaking to Risto once many years ago,” she said. “He spoke of
handing on his responsibility. That it was time for Risto to meet the goddess.”

“Goddess?” A grin kicked up one side of Leandros’s mouth. “You mean this?”

But as she stood and studied the figurine in this quiet sanctuary cocooning them,
the more certain Acacia grew. It was said that the Goddess of Tierenias had not been
seen by human eyes for a thousand years. Although the people believed in her powers,
particularly on this island, there was no proof her material form had survived or,
for that matter, had ever existed.

Acacia remembered her father and Risto spending time together here on this island
alone shortly after the conversation she’d overheard.

Had Risto known about this cave, this chamber? The goddess was supposed to offer her
fertility, happiness, and longevity to those who revered. Risto had taken many trips
to this island alone in recent times. Had he come here to pray, particularly once
the whispers had started that the woman he had loved carried another man’s child?

“Should we take her with us when we leave?” she asked.

With a grunt, Leandros led her to the cushioned booth. “I only know that you should
sleep while the baby sleeps.”

After he’d laid a large pillow on a low plateau, Acacia settled her sleeping nephew
down carefully.

“Rest.” He gestured toward the booth.

“If you’ll rest with me.”

“There’s no time—”

“A few moments.” Her throat swelled. “I need you to hold me. You need me to hold you,
too.”

When she cupped his bristled jaw, his shoulders slumped as if the tension that had
charged him these past hours had suddenly seeped to his feet. He brought her palm
to his mouth and kissed her there with a tenderness that left her aching.