The silence in the room was deafening, and Dimitri stepped to his left while Francesca tightened her hold on his right arm.
Stefan spoke first. “Ryker’s probably the best name to use, so we’ll start there,” he said crisply. “Ryker Stavros, you already know your real name is Aristotle Andris. I’d like to introduce your family to you.”
His hand pinning Francesca to his side, Ryker stepped forward. She gently disentangled herself from him when he reached his family unit, but she didn’t retreat.
The first person in line was his mother, or he assumed it was his mother. She was lovely in the way of older noblewomen in Garronia—her dark hair and eyes speaking of a life well-lived, while her skin was still that of a much younger girl. She smiled at him as her eyes filled with barely banked tears, her gaze searching his face. “You don’t remember anything, do you sweetheart?” she murmured.
The sound of her voice made Ryker stiffen and his hand went to his head as his mother gasped.
“Ari—” this was a male voice, and the next man stepped up quickly, steadying him as the pain leveled through his brain. He brought his head up, gripping the forearms of the older man, and suddenly—he knew. Hisfather—this was his father, King Jasen. This was his father and he was Ari Andris and a flood of memories nearly took him to his knees, a lifetime of laughter and shouts and tears and studies and dinners and travel and—
“No!” he gasped, wheeling away, only to collapse into a third man, whose eyes were unabashedly full of tears, tears that were now running down his face. Unlike his parents who were trying so hard to do what was right, what was safe, Kristos practically bowled Ari over with a hug, Ari’s arms instinctively going around his younger brother as Kristos burst into rough, racking sobs.
“I’ve missed you so much—so much,” Kristos gritted out, and it wasn’t the sound of a grown man, but of a little brother left alone to face the world without preparation. His sobs came from a place of isolation so deep and profound that Ari felt his own wellspring of recognition growing.
“Kristos,” he managed. “Kristos—”
His brother jerked his head back and searched his face. “You remember me? Or did they tell you.” He whirled on Francesca. “Did you tell him ? You had to have told him.”
“Kristos,” Ari said again—and he knew without question his name was Ari, knew these people. His brother shifted and Ari realized the pain was no longer quite so strong. “I remember you. All of you, but not everything about you.” He turned, his brother loosening his hold and took in his mother and father, both of them holding each other since they could not hold him.
“Mamá,” he said, holding out a hand, and the queen gave a short, strangled cry. It was Jasen who helped her take the faltering step toward Ari, and she bypassed his hand and lifted her fingers to his face, laying them along his cheekbone.
“I missed you so much, Ari,” she said, echoing Kristos’s words. “For so long I prayed for you to return, then when that didn’t work I prayed that you were healthy, or not in pain or—or somewhere safe. I couldn’t—I couldn’t imagine you hurt, or trapped, or—”
Ari wrapped his arms around her, but lifted his gaze to his father’s. King Jasen nodded. His mother had been told the truth—but perhaps not the whole truth. Ari hoped not, or she’d never let him out of her sight again.
The sound of a deep, sonorous chime echoed through the palace, and the queen stepped back, her back going straight as she lifted her hands to her face, whisking away the tears.
“Who would call at this hour?” she demanded, and Ari saw Stefan signal to two of the guards, while Dimitri considered him and Fran with lifted brows.
“Thereislot of activity going on in the city tonight,” Dimitri said sardonically. “I don’t suppose you two were out and about?”
Ari frowned, then rubbed his chin. “A bit,” he said, slanting a glance at Francesca. She’d folded one arm across her waist, effectively creating the impression of a shield. “Francesca wanted me in the shadows, but, well…there was a festival.”
Stefan groaned and his mother whirled on him, her brows going up, once more the woman he realized he was used to seeing. “You were seen, I would imagine,” she said. “Of course you were seen, we’ll have to arrange a press conference, a briefing.” She pointed to her assistant and rattled off several requests in Garronois, and the woman left the room at a run.
Beside her, Jasen shook his head, and Ari got to see him fully for the first time. His father had aged, he realized with sudden clarity. This year he was gone had been hard on Ari, certainly. But how much harder on those he’d left behind?
No matter that he couldn’t remember so much, he couldn’t leave them hanging, now that he was back. What was it Francesca had said—Fake it ‘til you make it? Now it was his chance to do exactly that.
A commotion in the hallway drew everyone’s attention, and a stunning woman burst through the doorway.
“Ari!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement, joy and relief.
Then she ran for him.
14
“Edeena!” The queen’s voice came out as a whipcrack but didn’t seem to have any impact on the gorgeous woman who ran pell-mell through the receiving room until she launched herself into Ari’s arms. Fran took several steps back from Ari and would have backed all the way out of the room if she hadn’t slammed into Dimitri’s chest.
“Chicken,” muttered the captain and she glared at him, if only to avoid the bear hugging scene in the middle of the floor.
“Who the heck is she?” Fran hissed back. In all the time she’d been with Ari, she hadn’t thought once to ask if he had a girlfriend. She was pretty sure he wasn’t engaged—one of the articles would have mentioned that, surely—but a girlfriend? Of course he’d have a girlfriend. He was the crown prince of the entire freaking country, he would have a girlfriend! “Shouldn’t someone have mentioned a girlfriend?”
“Not a girlfriend,” Dimitri said, lifting himself on his toes and rocking back as Ari and Edeena finally broke apart. They began chattering in non-stop Garronois, and Dimitri continued. “Edeena Saleri and Ari dated briefly when they were in their early teens, but they grew up almost as cousins, though there’s no true blood tie.”
“You’re sure they’re not, ah…”
