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Authors: Christina Hollis

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BOOK: Weight of the Crown
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Lysander had been so understanding about Georgie’s death and Jerry’s treachery, but his silver tongue had lured her into making another mistake. Alyssa shut her eyes, trying to blind herself to the truth in the same way he had done. It was impossible. She was as big a fool as ever. Bigger, as experience should have taught her not to be so stupid a second time. She had allowed herself to be seduced, knowing all the time that Lysander’s lifestyle and morals were totally different from her own. Her ex-fiancé had cheated on her while she was still grieving for Georgie, and when she had needed him most. Why should she be shocked when ruthless, single-minded Lysander Kahani did exactly the same?

She stood up. The remains of the daisy, already wilting in the warmth, tumbled from her lap. She didn’t notice. All she could think about was the way she had made a fool of herself over a man—again.

A car came for her, eventually, but there was no sign of Lysander. When she got back to the Rose Palace, it was in chaos. Lysander was nowhere to be seen but she couldn’t block out the sound of his voice, calm but loud, echoing through the building. Staff scurried about all day relaying his instructions, and she picked up the story bit by bit. Lysander was leaving with the army for the hills. His plan was to make contact with the rebels who had sent an ultimatum about Ra’id. To keep his
nephew safe, the royal household was being shipped back to England. Alyssa didn’t want Ra’id upset by all the tension, so she kept him in the nursery, but the last thing she wanted to do was merge into the background.

For once, she was determined to stand up for herself. She had to talk to Lysander. Although her attention didn’t waver from Ra’id, she made sure they always played close to a window where she could keep a watch on the courtyard below. Lysander didn’t appear. She texted him. He didn’t reply. All day she watched and waited, but it was no good. Finally, with Ra’id packed and ready, she had an excuse to go and find out what was happening.

The palace’s grand foyer was stacked with travelling boxes and crates. Alyssa spotted Lysander instantly. The sight of him stopped her dead, halfway down the stairs. He was always impressive, but in combats instead of his usual designer suit and tie he was daunting as well. In contrast to his staff, he moved around with cool assurance. They rushed backwards and forwards in a panic while he tried to keep the situation calm by giving each one a few reassuring words.

Alyssa waited for him to turn his head so she could attract his attention. He didn’t so much as throw a glance towards her. When anger overcame her shame at being fooled twice in her life, she started down the stairs. Each step was heavier than the last. When she finally thumped to ground level, Lysander was heading towards the door.

‘I’d like a word with you, please, Your Royal Highness.’

The staff stopped, guessed what was going to happen
and then put their heads down to carry on with what they were doing.

All except Lysander. Hands on hips and without any sense of urgency, he strolled over to where she stood.

Alyssa’s face barely came up to his breast pocket, but that didn’t stop her standing up to him.

‘I want to speak to you.’

‘I know. I saw you leave the nursery wing.’

That surprised her. ‘You didn’t make any effort to come over while I was waiting on the stairs,’ she snapped, feeling awkward that she had misjudged him. Only hours ago, she had felt there might be some kind of mystical link growing between them.
Fat chance, when I can’t even notice him looking at me
, she thought.

‘Is it something about Ra’id?’ His eyes were guarded.

‘No.’

‘What, then?’

‘You mean you don’t know?’ Alyssa burst out.

He stood before her, tall, proud and very still. ‘I hope I can’t guess.’

Now that she was face to face with him, Alyssa couldn’t think of how to begin. Eventually, she said in a quiet voice, ‘I thought you were coming back to The Queen’s Retreat.’

‘I was needed here.’

‘Of course you were.’ Alyssa had heard about threats to Ra’id’s future from the driver sent to collect her. The country was unsettled, angry, looking for a strong leader. There were bound to be those who might want to take a short cut by removing any opposition. That put Ra’id quite literally into the firing line.

She fought to keep calm. Only twenty-four hours ago the three of them had been having a wonderful
time, picnicking without a care in the world. Now her universe had contracted to a tiny bubble that wasn’t large enough to keep both Lysander and Ra’id safe at the same time. Bubbles were so easily burst. She would have to let one of them go, and Lysander wouldn’t allow her to keep him. This was the job he was born to do, after all. She understood a sense of duty and how he felt about it, but this situation was so dangerous her feelings burst out in spite of herself.

‘Please don’t go, Lysander. Send someone else—’

A tiny muscle twitched as he clenched his jaw. ‘Are you suggesting I should hide away, just so
you
aren’t worried about my safety, when the future of both my country and my nephew are at stake?’ The bitterness in his voice and his assumption that she was thinking only of herself cut through Alyssa like a whip.

‘Don’t flatter yourself—or me,’ she struck back. ‘Obviously my opinions aren’t of any interest to you. How stupid of me to forget that for you women are nothing but playthings! Well, I’m worth more than that, and I’m not trying to save you for myself. See sense. If you’re going to keep your country in one piece, Lysander, you have to keep yourself out of harm’s way.’

‘My country needs me to be strong, and I have to set an example. This is how it must be.’

‘You idiot, Lysander!’ Emotion made her throw her hands towards him but he stepped smartly out of her reach.

‘Speaking like that to me at a time like this is treason.’

They stared at each other, his look becoming a glare.

‘This will be my life from now on, Alyssa. There
are times when I have to leave everything—and everybody—behind. I can’t do my duty to my people if I have you to worry about as well. There isn’t room in my life for any distraction right now.’

Breath caught in her throat, almost choking her. ‘So that’s all I am to you—a distraction.’

He stared at a point somewhere over her head and far away. ‘Don’t take it to heart. If anything, you should be glad I’m leaving before things go any further. I’ve had so many other women, Alyssa. I’ve abandoned them all sooner or later—’ He tore his eyes away from the middle distance but still refused to meet her eyes. ‘I don’t want to hurt you like that. You’re too good …’

She took a step forward, daring him to flinch. ‘You say that—but I was stupid enough to let you seduce me!’ she blazed. ‘You coward! You’re walking away from me in the same way you’ve abandoned all those other girls over the years—to prove that you can. Don’t deny it!’ she spat furiously.

The look transforming his face told her she was right, but that he hadn’t realised it himself until then. Seeing his sudden shock was unnerving. Lysander didn’t notice. He was on an adrenaline high and struck back instantly.


I’ve
got nothing to prove!’ he roared back. ‘
You’re
the one whose future is on the line if you stay here. Go, now! It isn’t safe for you here!’

‘I’m going! But not because of anything you’ve said or done, Lysander Kahani,’ she hissed. ‘My first loyalty is to Ra’id. As far as I’m concerned,
you
can go to hell!’

‘Good! That’s exactly how it should be! I don’t damn
well employ you to put me off my stroke!’ he shouted over the racket of helicopters dropping onto the apron outside the palace, but it didn’t make any difference to Alyssa. She was running back upstairs, desperate to get away from him.

Alyssa was in such turmoil she took refuge in organising. Packing and timetables were facts and figures she could control. Lysander might have thrown her on the scrapheap, but she had to bury that at the back of her mind. Ra’id was upset by all the confusion and change, and her first duty was always to him. Her own future looked bleak. The little boy was Lysander’s number one fan, with all that meant. If he wasn’t talking about his uncle, he was waiting for that one special visitor to the nursery. Alyssa would never be able to escape the influence of a man who had lifted her up and then dropped her from a great height.

The only silver lining was that, while she had so much to do for Ra’id, she didn’t have time to get in a state about their hastily arranged flight home to England.

For the next few days, Alyssa spent her time trying to forget Lysander. It was impossible. By the time they got back to Combe House, the place was buzzing with news. Every bulletin started her fussing over Ra’id so she wouldn’t have to hear, and bundling him away from every TV and radio. She said it was to stop the little boy getting upset. The truth was, she didn’t know what would be worse: to hear that Lysander was in danger, or to find out that the emergency was all over and he was
back home, looking for a new distraction. Either way, her heart would be pierced. Finally, the time came when she couldn’t run any more. One morning she woke up while it was still dark outside to hear a television blaring away somewhere close at hand. Dragging on her dressing gown, she stumbled through the door connecting her suite with the nursery sitting room.

Ra’id was bouncing up and down on the couch, alight with excitement. He didn’t notice that Alyssa’s scowl would have curdled milk, and that she was pale with lack of sleep and loss of appetite. He had the TV on full blast, and launched straight into his great news.

‘Uncle Ly’s won!’ he squealed with excitement.

‘I’ve told you before not to switch the television on yourself!’ she began, but Ra’id was far too excited to take any notice.

‘Uncle Ly’s won!’ He kept on repeating it, but Alyssa couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but dread. Ra’id’s delight made it hard to pick out many details, but the words ‘royal wedding’ came through loud and clear as he pointed towards the giant TV screen. ‘Now we can go home, and he can get married!’

Alyssa was shocked into life. She whirled around, and was confronted by Lysander’s life-sized image moving over the huge TV screen. It twisted a knife in her stomach. His smile was exactly as she remembered; she could almost believe he was gazing straight at her. But he wasn’t. He was sharing a joke with a rebel leader seated beside him at the conference table.

‘He’s getting married?’ Alyssa’s voice rose uncontrollably.

‘Of course. He’s going to marry Princess Peronelle.’ Ra’id’s smile reached from ear to ear.

Alyssa barely heard. She was frozen with horror, watching Lysander—the man who had cradled her, and made love to her until all her pain had gone. He was smiling and nodding wisely, ranks of photographers and film cameramen catching his every chuckle.

‘He’s … in love with a princess?’ Alyssa felt faint. Suddenly the floor felt as if it were made from rubber. She caught hold of the nearest chair for support.

‘Prince and princess, king and queen. That’s how it goes,’ Ra’id announced happily. ‘The TV says King Boduan is sending Princess Peronelle on an official visit to Rosara as soon as Uncle Ly gets back there next week. It’s inked,’ Ra’id announced. He had picked up that delightful phrase parrot-fashion from one of Lysander’s briefing team.

Alyssa was falling through space, helpless and alone. Her mouth was so dry she could hardly speak. ‘Prince Lysander’s going to get married?’

‘I keep telling you. It’s Princess Peronelle.
Everyone
knows that!’ The little boy laughed.

‘Since when? I didn’t,’ Alyssa said faintly, wondering how she could have been so deaf, blind and stupid.

‘That’s probably because it happened a long time ago,’ Ra’id decided. ‘I wasn’t supposed to be listening. They thought I was playing. My father said Princess Peronelle had a good pedigree, whatever that is, but Uncle Ly said what good had that done our family in the past and that she was a …’ he rolled his eyes with the effort of remembering ‘ … a perfect clothes horse.’

A long time ago. So Lysander
must
have known

about his engagement before he carried me off to The Queen’s Retreat and …
Alyssa couldn’t bear to think back over what had happened. She had seen all those magazine photographs of Lysander escorting beautiful women around the world. She knew the type only too well, but a hideous need to know more about one in particular overwhelmed her.

‘What’s she like?’

The television coverage switched to other news, so Rai’d lost interest in it. Instead of bouncing up and down on the spot he was now catapulting from cushion to cushion along the length of the couch. Alyssa had to repeat her question before he took any notice.

‘The princess? She’s not as nice as you.’

That made Alyssa feel worse, not better. The only prize for coming second in the competition for Lysander’s love was a broken heart, and she already had one of those.

‘Have you met her?’

‘Sort of. She came to the palace once. She walked past me. She’s all rustly, and smells like shops. She didn’t stop or talk to me or anything, but her ladies-in-waiting did. They gave me sweets. Lots of sweets. And chocolate. And marzipan. Lots of that, too. Then we went into dinner and I was sick on the table and the princess screamed and ran away.’

Alyssa might be dying inside, but that little picture made her smile like a jealous jaguar.

‘Oh, dear. Was it just on the table?’

Ra’id nodded.

‘That was a shame,’ Alyssa said with real feeling, but not the sort Princess Peronelle would have liked.

Lysander had some damned nerve, seducing me when he had a royal bride already lined up for himself
, she thought, covering her face with her hands.
Now I know why he was so keen to send me back here without talking to me—I’d served my purpose.

Despite everything, she felt strangely calm. Since Georgie died, she had always known that getting too fond of anyone was a mistake. So why had she let Lysander break her heart twice over? He had the words ‘love rat’ written all over him, he was fully aware of his own worth, and he was beautiful with it. She only had herself to blame for ignoring all the warning signs, but that couldn’t stop her hating him.

BOOK: Weight of the Crown
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