“How the hell did he get past you?” Kallias shouts at some ten men surrounding the carriage. Our driver has returned, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers he likely meant to take home to a sweetheart. But Kallias pays him no mind. “You are paid for one job. To protect your king. And you failed. How? What the devils were you all doing?”

Half of the men turn toward me.

“We were unprepared for the … um … distraction,” one of the men says.

“Am I to understand you failed to protect me because you weren’t paying the lady the respect she deserves?”

“You can hardly blame us, sire. She was naked.”

Kallias steps forward, draws his sword, and puts it through the one who spoke. The man looks down at the rapier stuck in his gut, eyes wide. He falls as Kallias draws his sword back out.

I’m reminded of Hektor and the last breaths he took. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen death.

Until now.

The rest of the guards step back, likely worried that they’ll be next. “Anyone else wish to offer up excuses?” Kallias asks in a quiet

voice.

No one says a word.

“You.” Kallias points to one of the guards. “Ride ahead and gather my council. We meet as soon as I return.”

DURING THE RETURN CARRIAGE RIDE, Kallias has the back of his hand pressed to his lips as he thinks. He stares off into some corner. Not avoiding me, just lost in his own thoughts.

“Forgive me,” he says, suddenly looking up. “You should not have seen that. I shouldn’t have—in front of a lady—What must you think of me now?”

I’ve been perfectly calm the entire time. I didn’t feel as though I were in danger when the bandit attacked. Not from the safety of the water. And I find Kallias’s question perplexing.

“I believe you now,” I say. “You do know how to use that sword.” His expression turns incredulous. “You’re not frightened? Of me?” “You defended my honor. Why should I fear you?”

“Because I killed a man in front of you.”

I shrug. “You have to make tough decisions as king. You have to put down those who disobey you. Make an example of them. It’s how you maintain order. You think I don’t know that?”

“I still shouldn’t have done it in front of you.” He looks away. “Kallias.”

His gaze focuses on me once more.

“I do not fear the decisions you have to make as a king, and I would never think lesser of you for them. I’m surprised you killed only one of them, to be honest.”

His voice lowers. “The rest will die as well, but I can’t very well do it when I’m outnumbered and when we have to rely on them for protection on the road back.”

The carriage draws to a halt in front of the palace, and Kallias jumps out. He’s barefoot, clad only in pants as the rest of his clothing was left behind in our haste. Not that it’s easy to tell. He has his shadows out in full force. Every inch of bare skin is haloed by smoky blackness.

I follow after him, and he says nothing as we tread up some stairs, down corridors, through doors. Ladies and servants startle at the sight of his bare chest and storming shadows as we pass them—until at last we find ourselves in a meeting room.

Five individuals are seated at a large table. Kallias takes the sixth seat. At the head. “Ikaros, fetch Lady Stathos a seat.”

If the rest of the council thinks anything of my presence, they say nothing. Leandros’s uncle grabs a chair from the outskirts of the room and places it at the corner of the table, next to the king.

“This masked bandit problem has gone on long enough,” Kallias says once I’m seated. “How has our plan to catch him progressed?”

I hardly think Kallias is unnerved by the loss of some food. No, it is the fact that someone stole from the king, that this bandit would dare

challenge his monarch. The problem has become personal, and Kallias must deal with it immediately.

“The coins are finished,” Lady Terzi says.

“And I’ve allowed word to slip that they will be transported soon,” Lady Mangas says.

Ikaros Vasco steeples his fingers over the table. “If the bandit has been spotted so close to the palace, then surely he intends to take the bait.”

“Once he strikes and redistributes the gold, my troops will be ready to round up the peasants caught with them.” This from Kaiser.

Ampelios shifts in his seat. “And then I’ll be ready to question them.

We’ll get him, sire.”

Kallias takes a few moments just to breathe, to think everything through. If any of the council members think anything of his partial nakedness or the dampness of our clothing, they wisely say nothing.

“Good,” Kallias says. “I want daily reports on how this progresses. And, Kaiser? See that all the men who accompanied us on our outing are hanged.”

THE SITTING ROOM IS abuzz with gossip the next day. I know immediately that it’s about me, as everyone goes quiet as soon as I enter the room with my latest sewing project, the top to match my high-low skirt. (I’ve decided on something formfitting and low-cut down the front.) A few ladies hurriedly pick up their embroidery and try to look busy. Others stare, but my good friends have nothing but smiles for me.

“We saved you a seat!” Rhoda says, her fingers pointing to a cushioned chair across from her.

Light conversation starts up as I take the proffered spot. “Spill!” Hestia says when my rump barely hits the cushion. I look to Rhoda for help.

“You were swimming with the king!” Rhoda says, and the room goes quiet, holding their breath and waiting for me to divulge the whole story.

I say, “And we were naked.”

Hestia’s hands go to cover her mouth, while Rhoda grins with delight.

“He was a perfect gentleman,” I assure the room, even though I’m directing my attention to my friends. “Didn’t touch me. Didn’t even look

as I undressed.”

A girl on the other side of the room coughs into her hand. “For your sake, I hope a proposal is underway. No other man will have you now. Whether you two were chaste or not. Naked is naked.”

Another girl gasps at her remark, hardly daring she would be so bold with the king’s beau.

“I had a nice talk with the king about virginity,” I say, and I proceed to rehash the conversation. At the end, I say, “Considering at least half of you have already given yourselves to men, I should think you grateful that you no longer have to keep your exploits a closely guarded secret. I certainly won’t bother to do so with mine.”

In fact, this morning I called in my debt to Myron. He has a month to get the money to me before I hand the case over to the constabulary.

It’s only a moment after I say the words that the whole room floods with new gossip. This time, of ladies sharing their secret exploits with others in the room or their wishes for such trysts. Satisfied with what I’ve started, I turn back to Rhoda and Hestia.

“And here I thought I was being bold coming out of mourning so soon,” Rhoda says. “You’re changing everything.”

I shrug. “I merely think we should be afforded the same rights as the men. Even in the bedroom.”

WHEN BREAKFAST IS SERVED, I’m not yet dressed, still clad in a nightgown. This one is black and formfitting. Though the short sleeves cover my shoulders, the silky material opens on each side of my abdomen, from my lowest ribs to below my hips. I chose the design because men do so love to use my hips and waist as handholds when kissing me senseless.

I brush my hair out of my face before entering the sitting room to break my fast.

Kallias stands from the breakfast table as soon as I open the door, and his eyes immediately go to the openings in my nightgown, where he can see the smooth skin at my second-best curves.

“My maid didn’t inform me you were joining me this morning,” I say by way of explanation. “I’ll go put on a robe.”

“No,” he objects. I raise a brow.

“I mean, I’m the intruder. You may wear whatever you wish in your own rooms.” He drags his eyes to my face. “Are you up for company this morning?”

“Certainly.” I take the seat opposite him. “Your nightwear is … different,” he adds. “It’s breathable.”

“Do you get overheated when you sleep?” “Only when I’m not sleeping alone.” Kallias turns his head toward my door.

“There’s no one else in there,” I say. “I didn’t mean I’d had company last night.”

He returns his gaze to me. “You say that almost wistfully.”

Well, now that we’re being honest about our past exploits—“It’s … been a long time.”

“Longer than it’s been for me?” “Devils, no!”

He stares at me, and I find myself laughing at the conversation. “Just how long has it been for you?” he wants to know.

Truth or lie?

“Just over a month.”

He blinks. He tries to start a new sentence but stops himself three times, before, “Anyone I know?”

“He was a nobody. Someone to amuse myself with to pass the time, while I waited for Chrysantha to become engaged.”

A silence spreads between us as we dance around such a dangerous topic.

Finally, he blurts, “A month? A month is long for you?” “Not all of us have as much self-control as you do.”

“I’m not so in control as you might think.” He looks down at the shredded potatoes on the table. Our untouched breakfast.

“Oh? Are you dallying with some lady in secret?” The words come out friendly and aloof, but for some reason, I start to see red at the corners of my vision.

“That’s not what I meant.” Kallias puts a bite of food into his mouth and chews slowly, as though giving himself an excuse not to say more.

He’s saved by a knock at the door. A maid goes to answer before returning with a letter for me.

“Put it on my desk. I’ll attend to it later,” I tell her.

“No,” Kallias says hurriedly. “Please, don’t let me keep you from your correspondence. It might be important.”

He’s stalling for more time. All right, I’ll indulge him. I take up the letter and read:

To Lady Alessandra Stathos,

I’m looking into the disappearance of my son Hektor, who has been absent since July 27, three years past. I have learned that you may have had some sort of relationship with my son, and it is my hope that you might have more information concerning his disappearance.

As a favor to me, will you please come to my

estate so we can talk? I’d hate to bring this matter into the king’s home.

Sincerely, Faustus Galanis, Baron of Drivas

I don’t miss the blatant threat. Come to me or else I’ll come to you.

“Something wrong?” Kallias asks.

I look up and gather my thoughts quickly. “It’s an invitation to the Baron of Drivas’s estate.” Not a lie.

“Oh. I know of the baron, but I can’t say I’ve seen him more than a handful of times. But if you wish to go, I would be honored to accompany you.”

My knuckles whiten on the letter. Kallias thinks I’ve been invited to a party or some event. Of course he does, and he’s trying to show that he’s all in now on our ruse.

“Actually, the baron makes me … uncomfortable.” At that word, I have Kallias’s undivided attention. “Has he done something untoward?”

“He’s been talking with my father and my sister. Now he’s all but threatened to come to the palace if I don’t come to him. I think he’s up to something.”

I have done my best not ever to lie to Kallias. Lies are far too easy to get caught up in. Far too easy to discover. I let Kallias draw his own

conclusions from my words.

“The baron has many sons, does he not?” Kallias asks. “He does,” I say with resignation.

“Perhaps I should have a talk with him about how you are unavailable.”

“Oh, please don’t make an issue of it,” I say. “But if it’s not too much to ask, should he attempt to come to the palace…”

“I won’t let the guards admit him. Say nothing more.”

I relax. As long as I’m in Kallias’s confidence, I needn’t worry about the baron. Hektor will not ruin this for me.

Kallias returns to his breakfast, while I think through a reply for the baron. I’ll assure him that despite what he’s heard, I barely knew his son, and I’m afraid I have no information to assist in his search. Then I will pass along my regrets.

Yes, that should take care of things for now. I certainly can’t leave the palace to deal with this issue myself. Not when things are finally turning around for Kallias and me.

I SEE KALLIAS AGAIN at lunch.

Twice in one day.

“You will be happy to know that both of your plans are progressing splendidly,” he says to me while a servant brings a fresh bowl of soup for the king. “The people of Pegai have cast their votes for representation on the council. The newly appointed voice of the people is being followed discreetly everywhere he goes. We will know all the ringleaders of the revolt soon enough. As for the bandit, he struck this morning and took the freshly stamped coins. We will begin searching nearby towns for the gold first thing tomorrow.”

Kallias’s leg bounces underneath the table. He’s in a very fine mood.

A wave of pleasure washes over me at his words. “Excellent. I would be very interested to remain informed on both situations.”

“Of course. I’m beginning to realize there is nothing I care to keep from you anymore.”

An amiable silence sits between us as we enjoy the food. At one point, I find Kallias watching me out of the corner of my eye. When I turn my head, he only grins when caught staring.

“What are you looking at?”

“That should be obvious. Perhaps you’d like to ask me what I’m thinking instead?” His eyes are liquid fire, and I wonder just how dangerous it might be to ask that very question.

But I do anyway.

“I’m thinking,” he answers, “that you are quite beautiful, and every man at this table wishes he were me right now.”

My stomach starts to flutter. “You are king. Every man does wish he were you.”

“No. Every man wishes he had you at his side.”

“You said I wasn’t beautiful enough to be tempting,” I remind him.

He takes his napkin from his lap and brushes his fingers against it. “I lied. You’re the most stunning thing to ever set foot in my palace.”

Our eyes hold. I’m helpless but to maintain the connection sizzling between us.

And though I know he won’t break the law—not yet—for me, knowing that I have some hold on him brings a slow smile to my lips.

He stares down at them, at the red stain that graces my skin.

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask finally. And then I realize, “You don’t want me to spend any more time with Leandros.”

He admits, “I want to keep you all to myself.”

I shouldn’t be surprised at all that a king would be selfish, demanding, even cruel at times. But he is other things as well. He is intelligent, handsome, and giving. And he is not entirely unchangeable. He is changing his ways already for me.

“I think, Your Majesty, that all this talk of past indulgences is getting to your head.”

“Perhaps I am simply in a good mood. Everything is going quite splendidly.”

And it is all due to me.

Really, everyone should be quite glad when I am the one ruling all the kingdoms.

When Kallias excuses himself sometime later, his back hasn’t even disappeared around the exit of the great hall before Hestia and Rhoda take the empty seats near me.

“I heard the king dined in your rooms this morning,” Hestia says with a waggle of her eyebrows.

“He did. But that was all. Breakfast.” “No new gossip for me, then?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, very well. We shall have to turn to less exciting gossip to occupy our afternoon.”

“How about we talk of all the dancing you did at last night’s ball?” Rhoda asks. “With Lord Paulos.”

With everything else that’s been going on, I neglected to ask my friends about the event I missed. It seems things went very well for Hestia.

“It was only a couple of dances,” Hestia says. “It was nothing.

Truly.”

“If that’s the case, then why is he watching you right now?”

“What?” Hestia swivels her head around in time to catch the man who must be Lord Paulos quickly look away.

He’s a bit older than she is, with a little gray at his temples, but still quite handsome.

I grin.

“See?” Rhoda continues. “And I happened to overhear him tell his friends how you smelled like a berry patch in spring. Men don’t say things like that unless they’re smitten.”

“They don’t?” Hestia looks down at the wood grain of the table and grins shyly.

“And he obviously very much enjoyed the conversation you shared.

What did you talk about?”

“Well, I started by discussing the latest fashions in the palace, but somehow the conversation morphed into talk of gaming.”

“Gaming?” Rhoda repeats.

“My father loves to play cards, and he taught me. Lord Paulos and I were rehearsing some of our favorite moves seen played in the game of hach. We both are obsessed with the strategy of the game. I know it wasn’t very ladylike of me to discuss such things, but it was so terribly fun.”

Sometimes Hestia can be quite silly, but I know she is an only child, with an absent mother and a father who wasn’t quite sure how to raise a daughter. She may be trying to imitate me in the extreme, but part of me wonders if she is so afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing that she thinks imitating others is the only way to be safe. Then it’s not her who is the one being rejected.

“Hestia,” I say. “Do you know how I was able to catch the king’s attention?”

She shakes her head.

“By being myself. By discussing what I wished to discuss and behaving how I wished to behave and wearing what I wished to wear. It is not conforming to a standard that drew His Majesty’s attention. If you wish to make a happy match, I think you should do the same. Don’t be afraid of who you are. Say what you wish. Be who you wish. Don’t try to be someone else. You don’t want to catch a man who wants me. You want to catch a man who wants you.”

Hestia blinks a few times before looking down at the clothes she’s wearing, the ones that resemble my close-fitted dress from last week. She takes a full minute to think while staring at the smooth fabric about her waist. Suddenly, she rises, walks over to Lord Paulos, and takes the empty seat right next to him.

Rhoda takes up her empty seat, so we can converse more easily. “I’ve been trying to tell her the same thing for years. I think it just needed to come from the future queen.”

“Do you expect we’ll hear news of an engagement soon?” “I expect we will.”

We both lean back in our seats, letting our eyes trail down to Lord Paulos, who is now laughing at whatever Hestia has just said.

“What of you?” I ask. “Any progress on your search for passion?” “Oh, I’m having a dreadful time of it.”

“How can that be?”

Rhoda brushes a black curl over her shoulder. “I have come up with a ranking system for men who are in the running. But none of them are quite what I want.”

“You must tell me of this system you’ve devised!” I say, thoroughly intrigued by the conversation.

“I have come up with three different categories by which to judge men. They are looks, manners, and personality. Each category is ranked from one to five, one being a low score, and five being a high score. Now take Lord Toles, for example. With his sculpted features and dark complexion, he is an easy five ranking in looks. He’s fairly polite and thoughtful, resulting in a three in manners. But personality? Oh, he’s as dry as a lake during a drought. Overall, he ranks only nine out of fifteen.”

“How fascinating! What would your ideal future husband rank overall?”

“At least a thirteen, don’t you think?”

I ponder it a moment. “Definitely. If we were only talking of bedding men, I would say you need to look only for fives in the good-looks

category. If you were looking for a friend, all you would need is a five in the personality department. If you’re hoping for an escort to an event, then you would need only a five in manners, perhaps looks as well if you’re trying to leave a good impression. But for a love match? Definitely at least a thirteen.”

Rhoda nods. “I thought Lord Cosse would be the one after the last party. Did you know he and I danced three times together? Not in a row, of course. But three in total! He’s a four and a half in looks and a three and a half in personality. But manners? When I begged a break from the dancing because I was thirsty, he didn’t bother to offer to grab something from the refreshment table. He only went in search of a different dance partner. Can you believe that?”

“An outrage,” I say.

“My thoughts exactly. Lord Doukas has been after me for a while, but he’s only a two in looks. If we’re being kind,” she adds in a whisper. “The man is a five in both manners and personality. So it’s a real shame. I don’t like to think of myself as being shallow, but surely I should find a man I think is attractive if I’m to pursue him?”

“I agree.”

Rhoda sighs. “Sometimes, I don’t think there are enough men at court. And I’m convinced the perfect man doesn’t exist.”

Without prompting, Kallias’s visage rises to the front of my mind. The perfect symmetry of his face. The dark volume of his hair. His intelligent and bright green eyes. The view of his bare chest and bare … other things.

I think of our teasing and joking. Our discussions of bedding and reaching for the things we want. I think of the way he waited for me to arrive before starting on his dinner, how he waited up for me when I went out with Leandros.

Kallias has his flaws. Oh, so many flaws. I think of his temper. Of his selfishness to keep me to himself. Even though he doesn’t want all of me.

Mouth dry, I say, “I don’t think it’s necessarily about finding the perfect man but finding the perfect man for you. One person may rank a man far differently than another, even if they are both using your ranking system. But…”

“What?” Rhoda asks.

“The king is a fifteen. Perhaps not for everyone. But he is a fifteen for me.” And it’s the starkest truth.

Rhoda quirks her mouth to the side. “I assure you, Alessandra. It is not just you. The king is most assuredly a fifteen. Perhaps I should have rephrased. No attainable man is a fifteen.”

How very right she is.

But I’m far from giving up just yet.