“Your Majesty!” Jamil cried out as he caught sight of Sean. He looked shocked to see Sean alive, but he recovered quickly, going on the offensive. “I protest! Why am I being held? This is an outrage!”
Sean was normally a calm and controlled man, but the sight of Jamil — of the man who was behind everything they’d gone through, who might end up costing Bash his life — enraged him. He growled as he strode toward Jamil, Mansur uttering a protest that Sean ignored.
“The outrage is your lies!” Sean wanted to slap the arrogant look off Jamil’s face. “We’ve discovered that you’re the one who has been behind everything. The deaths of Sayyid and his children, the murder of my parents, the assassination of Faisal. You are working with Carapov, who just tried to killme, and you framed Majid, didn’t you? We have proof, and you will pay the price for your crimes.”
Sean was bluffing a bit on the last part, but he was skilled at reading people. Any doubt he had about the validity of Bash’s accusation disappeared when he caught the betraying look of shock and desperation that crossed Jamil’s face. The man looked trapped, and he lunged at the nearest guard, trying to wrest away the machine gun in his hands.
“Allah fi salih al Muktar!”
Jamil’s voice rang out as he struggled for the gun. Sean was grabbed by his guards, surrounded, and so he didn’t witness what occurred, but he heard it. Several gunshots thundered around him, and then Sean was hurried away from the scene.
So much death, and all for nothing.
“Take me to the hospital,” he said. All that mattered now was Bash.
“Your Majesty,” Mansur began a protest, but Sean cut him off.
“If I’m the king, then this one time, I’m bloody well giving the orders, and damn the consequences.” He drew himself up proudly and stared at Mansur. “You have things to attend to, do you not?”
To his surprise, Mansur gave him a look of respect and bowed low. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Sean followed along with his guards. Mansur could deal with Akkadia. All that mattered to Sean now was making sure that Bash would live.
* * *
The antiseptic smell of the hospital air was familiar to Sean, but it brought him no comfort. He paced restlessly across the industrial carpet of the waiting room, where no doubt many others had also tried to wear away at the sturdy material with their own worried footsteps.
He wasn’t certain how long he’d been here, hours at least, because he’d been brought food twice, which he’d eaten without tasting. They’d brought him clean clothes, and he’d changed, shuddering at the amount of Bash’s blood that had soaked into his robes. All he could do now was pray Bash survived, because Sean couldn’t bring himself to think of what would happen if he didn’t.
He’d been left alone in the waiting room, though he knew his guards were just outside. Eventually, he’d have to emerge, but not yet. Not until he knew Bash was out of surgery and going to live.
The door opened, and he glanced over, stopping mid-stride as he recognized the man coming through the door. Nick Galanos looked as though he’d aged a decade in the week since Sean had last seen him, though he smiled somewhat crookedly at Sean as he closed the door.
“Your Majesty,” Nick said, bowing to Sean. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding.”
“Of course not!” Recovering from his surprise, Sean crossed the room and put his hands on Nick’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Nick. I should have called you myself, but I’ve been a little… preoccupied.”
“No, I understand,” Nick replied. “I was watching the funeral on television when everything happened. One camera caught Bash tackling you to the ground and the shot being fired. I immediately headed to Akkadia and got updates from Mansur while en route.” He shook his head ruefully. “I sincerely hope whatever power there might be is watching out for idiots named Bash right now.”
“So do I.” Sean stepped back, then gestured to the chairs. “Shall we sit down? Do you have any more information? As I said, I’ve had other things on my mind.”
Nick moved to a sofa, while Sean took a seat on the chair opposite. “Mansur updated me just before I came in. Hamid is protesting his ignorance of his father’s action, and Majid has been released. I understand he’s insisting Hamid be tried in Jamil’s place.”
“I can sympathize.” Sean shook his head. “Did they capture Carapov?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Here Nick frowned. “He planned it well, smuggling a gun in the camera body. Jamil apparently got him press credentials. Since everyone was kneeling, Carapov dropped the camera and ran out of the mosque without impediment. Mansur believes what Bash witnessed on the roof last night was not Carapov planning his shot, but his getaway. The manhunt continues, of course, but for the moment, Carapov is still at large.”
“Then whoever I name as successor will still be in danger.” Sean said it flatly, dismayed that the assassin was still out there.
Nick shook his head. “No, I truly believe the plan has been derailed. Mansur has released the surveillance videos of Jamil’s attempt on your life, as well as Carapov’s identity and the involvement of the Wagner Group, so there is now international outcry against Russia. Despite their denials, everyone knows that Wagner Group is a Russian puppet. They’re going to have to do damage control, and given all their recent shenanigans, it’s a public relations nightmare. I doubt they will make a move against Akkadia again — and even if they try, Mansur is watching for them.”
Nick’s words were a relief. When Bash was out of danger, Sean would take the time to sit down and figure out which of his male relatives was best suited to take the throne, and he could do it with a clear conscience.
He looked at Nick, reaching across to touch his hand gently. “I’m glad you came, and I know Bash will be, too.” He raised a brow. “Was Mansur the one who let you in here? I know he’s kept the press and even the council away, so how did you get past?”
Nick smiled again. “It was Mansur, and with the excuse that I am standing in for Bash’s mother, who is a dear friend of mine. She’s on her way, but it’s a much longer flight from America than it is from Greece.”
Sean knew Nick would have come to his son no matter what excuse he had to use, or how many toes he had to step on. “He’s been in surgery for hours, and it could be hours more. But the doctors are very good. I made sure of that.”
