The Secret King

She heard music as if caught on the wind, the light strumming of a guitar and the melodic sound of a man’s voice. Casimir’s strong, yet soft voice. Where was that coming from? Was she hallucinating at this hour? It was 1:15 a.m.

Looking out her bedroom window, she saw one of her guards patrolling her front yard. She knew at least two others were on the premises. Tugging a short robe around herself, she took the stairs to the main floor. On her wraparound porch stood Casimir, playing an acoustic guitar and singing quietly. She watched him for a moment, taking in how gorgeous he was. His dark silhouette was framed against the moon and the sea.

She memorized the image, thinking she could sketch it later.

Her heart was thumping as she walked outside. He continued playing, but had stopped singing.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. The wind blew and she shivered.

“We made plans to see each other today. Since it’s past midnight, this counts,” Casimir said. “I couldn’t wait longer. I needed to see you now. I was serenading you.”

Her knees felt weak. She had never had a man anxious to see her. She held on to the back of one of her porch chairs.

She glanced at her guard, surprised he had allowed Casimir onto her porch.

Her guard’s shoulders tightened. “Do you wish to be alone, Your Grace? I overheard you agree to see him at the palace.”

She had agreed to meeting Casimir and she was happy he was here, at her beach house. Though they were not lovers, this had the makings of a secret rendezvous. She shivered at the thought. “Let me get dressed.” It wasn’t as if she had been sleeping anyway.

“You don’t need to change. You look good to me,” Casimir said.

Her legs were bare and her nipples were pebbled against the cotton of her tank top and robe. It was hard to believe he was actually here. “Want to come inside? I can show you where I paint.”

He shook his head and set his guitar on the porch, leaning it against her wooden chair. “No, we’ll save my first painting lesson for another day. Being in the princess’s house without a chaperone could be trouble.”

“My guards can be trusted,” she said.

“Perhaps I do not trust myself,” Casimir said. “Let’s go for a walk. You said you loved the sea.”

They started down the stairs and her bare feet sank into the cool sand. Her guard followed at a distance. As they walked along the water’s edge, Casimir didn’t touch her, didn’t hold her hand. His hands were tucked into his pockets in a boyishly charming manner. He had changed out of his suit and was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a navy T-shirt. She could make out the muscles of his shoulders, arms and chest. She suppressed the urge to run her fingers down the hard planes of his body.

“I’m glad you came to see me tonight,” she said.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

Concern dotted his face. “I imagine you’ve had a hard time sleeping since that night.”

He bent to pick something up.

“I miss them. I go over the sequence of events and try to think if there was more I could have done. I try to remember the last thing I said to each of them. I don’t even understand why it happened.” Who had wanted her family dead? Why that night? The questions yielded no answers, only more frustrating questions.

Grief made her throat tight and she went still, closing her eyes and gathering her strength.

“You don’t have to be strong in front of me. Cry if you need to. I’ll be strong enough for the both of us. For you.”

A great heaving sob shuddered over her.

“I want to hold you. Let me hold you. Is that okay?”

She answered by stepping into his arms.

Casimir gathered her against him, his powerful arms clutching her to his muscular frame.

He held her while she cried. The water lapped over her feet at uneven intervals, the cool sensation soothing the burn of grief. The wind blew and the quiet of the night made her feel as if she and Casimir were hidden from the rest of the world.

When the tears stopped, only deep unrelenting sadness remained, heavy in her heart. Taking a deep breath, she rested her head on his chest. “A queen shouldn’t cry.”

“Where did you hear that? That’s nonsense.”

“My country needs me to be strong.”

“Crying and showing emotion doesn’t make you weak. It takes real strength to open up about how you’re feeling,” he said.

She broke away and sat on the sand. He sat next to her. He had his elbows propped on his bent knees. “You can say anything to me, Serena. I won’t sell you out.”

“I hardly know you,” she said. Yet she trusted him more than a princess should.

“When two people have been through something like we have, there’s a bond. It’s hard to ignore that connection. You can trust it. If you listen to your instincts, you’ll know I’m right.”

Then he had felt it, too. She would be careful what she said to him, knowing a woman in her position should be, but she had someone to talk to and that was what she needed most. “I was humiliated tonight. The king never showed and he never called.”

“It was a jerk move,” Casimir said.

Then she wasn’t the only one who thought so. “Why plan a party and invite me if he had no intention of coming?”

“I am not sure that he had no intention.”

“He could have called. Texted. Had someone else call or text.”

“That’s true.”

“I didn’t want to see him tonight.”

“Then why were you at the palace?” Casimir asked.

A complicated situation made more complicated by the day. “I don’t know how much you follow politics, but my country needs me to marry the king.”

“Why?”

“We’re in a difficult location being between two lifelong enemies. If Icarus decides to take a shot at Rizari, we’re in the way. Therefore, Icarus may want to use us or invade to have easier access to Rizari.”

“The president of Icarus told you this?”

She had yet to have a reasonable conversation with the president on the matter. “No, but Danae was planning to marry King Warrington to form a strong alliance with Rizari. Rizari’s military presence can prevent Icarus from seeing us as an easy mark and attacking. The Assembly believes it’s inevitable for Icarus to make a play for more power and more land.”

“I see,” Casimir said. He didn’t seem eager to share his thoughts on the matter.

“What would you do?” Serena asked.

“That’s not for me to say.”

She wanted to know. “I asked your opinion.”

Casimir glanced at her, amusement on his face. “Is that a royal request?”

“It is,” she said with a smile.

“I would hate to belong to someone in marriage who I could not tolerate as a person and who did not respect me.”

“I belong to no one,” she said. Yet even the denial was a lie and she knew it. From the weaker position, she would be forced to agree to Warrington’s terms. He would own her.

Serena watched the endless waves and thought about running away, just getting in a boat and sailing off. “I was never meant to be queen.”

“Life has its own sense of humor. Perhaps you never believed you would be, but you have what it takes.”

She scoffed. “If you knew me better, you would not say that.” He didn’t know about her social anxiety, the complete lack of experience and the fact that she had zero desire to be the figurehead of a nation.

“What I know tells me you are strong, faithful and loyal. What better qualities to have in a queen?” He handed her a piece of green sea glass.

She held it up in the moonlight.

“A broken shard of glass, someone’s trash. It’s been tumbled by the water and smashed by the rocks and the sand until it’s beautiful and shiny.”

“What it’s gone through is what makes it beautiful,” Serena said. She held the sea glass in her palm.

Casimir had the soul of a poet, the strength of a fighter and the bravery of an explorer. Everything she had been looking for in one man and had never found. Her heart clamored at her to crawl into his lap. But she couldn’t.

She belonged to another man.

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