that your father made with mine. You see, sometime after the death of his first wife, the king fell on hard times. His own personal mourning affected the country and led the nation to near financial ruin. And so he borrowed heavily from my father. He also promised that he would repay my father in any manner he deemed acceptable. He more than promised. It is in writing.” Felipe lifted a shoulder then continued, “Of course, at the time King Behrendt felt like he had nothing to lose. His wife was dead. His heir and spare nearly grown. Then he met a model. Very famous. Originally from Somalia. Their romance stunned all of Europe for a great many reasons, the age gap between them being one of them.”
“I know this story,” she said, her voice hushed. “I mean, I have heard of them.”
“Naturally. As they are one of the most photographed royal couples in the world. What began as a rather shocking coupling has become one of the world’s favorites.”
“You’re trying to tell me that they are my parents.”
“I’m not trying to tell you that. I am telling you that. Because when it came time to collect on the king’s debt... My father demanded you.”
“He did?”
“Oh, yes. Verloren, and indeed the world, was captivated by your birth. And when you finally arrived, a great party was given. Many gifts were brought from rulers all over the world. And my father—not in attendance because he was any great friend of yours, but because your father was obligated—came, but it was not with a gift. It was a promise. That when you were of age he would come for you. And that you would be his wife.”
Her skin dulled, her lips turning a dusky blue. “Are you... Are you taking me to your father? Is that what this is?”
He shook his head. “No. I am not delivering you to my father. For that, you should be thankful. You will not be his wife.”
“No,” she said firmly. “I will not be.”
He looked up at her then, his eyes meeting hers. She looked fiery, determined. Anger glittered in those ebony depths, and perversely he ached to explore that rage. Sadly, it would have to wait.
“You will not be my father’s wife,” he repeated, pausing for just a moment. “You will be mine.”
SHE LOST CONSCIOUSNESS after that. And really, she was somewhat grateful for that. Less so when she woke up feeling disoriented, cocooned in a bed of soft blankets in completely unfamiliar surroundings.
At least when she woke up this time it wasn’t because he had kissed her.
Though, he was standing on the far side of the room, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression one of dark concern. Perhaps that was an odd characteristic to assign to concern, but she had a feeling the concern wasn’t born out of any kind of goodness of his heart, rather over the potential thwarting of his schemes.
His schemes to make her his wife. She remembered that with a sudden jolt.
She sat up quickly, and her head began to throb.
“Be careful, Princess,” came a slow, calming voice. “You do not have a concussion, but you have certainly been through quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours.”
She became aware that a woman was standing to the left of her bed. A woman who had that kind of matter-of-fact bedside demeanor she typically assigned to physicians.
“Are you a doctor?” she asked.
“Yes. When you lost consciousness on the flight, Prince Felipe called and demanded that I make myself available to him as soon as the plane landed. I told him it was likely stress and a bit of dehydration that caused the event.” She sent him a look that carried not a small amount of steel.
“I have indeed been placed under stress,” Briar said. “Since he kidnapped me.”
The woman looked like she was about to have an apoplexy. “Kidnapped. Lovely.”
“Did you have a criticism, Dr. Estrada?” Felipe asked, his tone soft but infinitely deadly.
“Never, Your Majesty.”
“I thought not.”
“Perhaps you ought to criticize him,” Briar said.
“Not if she would like to retain her license to practice medicine here in Santa Milagro. Also, not as long as she would like to stay out of the dungeon.”
“He would not throw me in the dungeon,” Dr. Estrada said, her tone hard. “However, I do believe he might strip me of my license.”
“Do not think me so different from my father,” he said, his tone taking on a warning quality. “I will have to assume control of the country soon, and I will do whatever I must to make sure that transition goes as smoothly as possible. I would like to give you all that I have promised,” he said, directing those words to the doctor, “but I cannot if you don’t help me in this. I am not evil like my father, but I am entirely focused on my goals. I will let nothing stand in my way.” He rolled his shoulders backward, grabbed the edge of his shirtsleeve and pulled it down hard. “I am hardly a villain, but I am...morally flexible. You would both do well to remember that.”
“You can’t exactly issue threats to me,” Briar said, “as I’ve already been kidnapped.”
“Things can definitely get worse,” Felipe said, a sharp grin crossing his lips. “I’m quite creative.”
A shiver ran down her back and she thought wildly about what she could do. There was no hope of running, obviously. She wasn’t feeling her best, even if she didn’t have a concussion. She was also stranded in a foreign country with no ID, no money, nothing but a hospital gown.
“Help me,” she said to Dr. Estrada, because she had no idea what else she could do.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” the woman said. “Except when it comes to your medical well-being. You can take a couple of these pain pills if you need them.” She set the bottle on the nightstand.
“I might take the whole thing,” Briar responded.
“I will not tolerate petulant displays of insincere overdoses.” Felipe walked across the room, curling his fingers around the pill bottle and picking it up. “If you need something I am more than happy to dispense it. Or rather, I will entrust a servant to do so.”
He was appalling. It was difficult to form an honest opinion on his personality, given that he had kidnapped her and all. That was the dominant thing she was focused on at the moment. But even without the kidnap, he was kind of terrible.
“That will be all, Dr. Estrada,” he said, effectively dismissing what might have been Briar’s only possible ally. “She would not have helped you,” Felipe said, as if reading her mind. “She can’t. You see, my father has had this country under a pall for generations. People like Dr. Estrada want to make a difference once the old king is dead—and he is closer and closer to being dead with each passing moment we spend talking. I would prefer that he live for our marriage announcement, however. Still, if he does not, I won’t lose any sleep over it. The sooner he dies, the better. The sooner he dies, the sooner I assume the throne. And change can begin coming to the country.”
“There’s nothing you can do until some old, incapacitated king dies?”
He waved a hand. “Of course there is. If there was nothing that could be done, Dr. Estrada wouldn’t have been here at all. In fact, she’s somebody that I’ve been meeting with for the past couple of years, getting a healthcare system in place, ready to launch the moment I assume power. I have pieces in a great many strategic places on this chessboard, Princess. And you were the last one. My queen.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t.