“Aristotle.” The voice cut across his thoughts so abruptly he halted, gaping at his mother.
“I—I’m sorry,” he said, blinking quickly as he re-set his expression. “My thoughts were a million miles away.”
“Walk with me?”
Ari was instantly on his guard, but he tidied the papers in the folder he’d been glaring at while walking, and tucked them under his arm. His mother usually didn’t make a habit of strolling through the south wing of the palace, so her presence here was suspect. This was the main area for the business of the kingdom, and she usually left that to her husband…and to Ari, he realized, the certainty of that memory merely serving to heighten his concern.
Still, he nodded to her, gesturing her down the hall. “The gardens aren’t too hot at this hour,” he suggested.
“My thoughts exactly.” She beamed at him and he sensed more danger here. His mother was up to something. He suddenly felt the weight of all those still-lost memories piling on his shoulders. Was there something he should have known, should have done already? He couldn’t imagine what.
They stepped out into the coolness of the early evening, and some of Ari’s tension rolled off him. He remembered this place, and now each new memory that returned to him was no longer accompanied by pain. But this garden had been one of his favorite retreats once he’d started frequenting the government section of the palace. It was rarely used, and could always be counted on to be quiet.
His mother remained silent until they rounded the first corner of the manicured space. Then she began almost casually, ensuring Ari was prepped for anything from a breakfast menu discussion to war time alliances.
What she said, however, still managed to take him by surprise.
“What do you know of Francesca Simmons—truly know of her?” she asked.
He blinked down at her. “Know?” he replied. “Not much beyond Stefan’s report.” His mother didn’t need to know that he’d pored over that report among all the stacks of documentation he’d been delivered that day. The four girls had had fairly complete workups done after Kristos had taken a fancy to Emmaline. “Psychology graduate student, studying at George Washington, completing her coursework within the next year. No prior arrests, no tax evasion charges, family in upstate Michigan. Her father remarried after her biological mother died, and she has two step-siblings from her step-mother’s previous marriage.”
“I noticed that,” the queen said, and of course she would have been given access to the girls’ files as well. “There’s not a great deal of information about her family beyond what’s in the file, however. No mention of grandparents, no social media profiles of any of them.” She sighed. “And believe me, I looked.”
“Why?” Ari tried to keep his tone light, but he could feel his irritation expand. His mother was allowed to be protective of him, of course. But from what he’d been able to pry out of Dimitri, she was the one who’d most wanted Francesca thrown in his path. Now she was worried about whether or not Francesca’s grandma had a Facebook page?
“She’s just so—polished, I guess is the right word. Seasoned. She’s different from the other three girls, who are all lovely don’t get me wrong. But they don’t have the sense of age that Francesca does. Like she’s seen more in the space of her young life than any person should—and yet it’s shaped her in the best possible way.”
“Well, she did decide to go into psychology,” Ari said. “Maybe experiencing some of the trials in her own life gave her the idea that she could help others get through their troubles, too. That would tend to encourage you to grow up fast.”
“True.” His mother still seemed unconvinced, and she slanted him a questioning glance. “Why did you ask her to go with you when you left the island and struck out for the capital city?”
“Why—what?” Ari hadn’t remembered his mother’s cross-examination being so oblique. Had it always been that way, or was this a new development in the past year? When she kept her serenely expectant gaze pinned on him, however, he took a stab at a response.
“I—well, she was there, primarily, and she’d been there with me when I had…an episode, for lack of a better term. I remembered something that caused me distress, and she—well, she held my hands. She didn’t say anything, really. She simply was there. Steadying me, supporting me I suppose, until I was ready to go on. I appreciated that about her. Both that she stayed and that she didn’t try to do anything but be there. It was all I really needed, and I think she knew that, somehow.” He shrugged. “Again, she’s had some training in this area, which you knew before you sent her my way.”
His mother didn’t take offense to the accusation, but she also didn’t seem convinced either. “And when you landed with her, where did you go, exactly? We know about where you lodged but…well there’s a story we can’t quite countenance from a cabbie who insists he saw you. Yet the story he tells is of a ragged, raving worker with a young American tourist—strangely enough, a tourist who he’d picked up at the municipal airport.” She studied him. “Why did you go there?”
For a split second, Ari thought about lying. But he couldn’t afford to. Not until he understood if there had been any threat to the family, real or imagined.
“I wanted to see the airfield where my plane had been that night. To see if it jogged any memories.” He shrugged. “It didn’t.” None that he could understand anyway.
“And this delirium the cabbie mentioned?”
Ari shrugged tightly. “The attempt threw me a little. I recovered, but I’m sure I wasn’t the most pleasant of fares.”
“But Francesca was there.”
“Yes,” he said studying her. “She was there. Why?”
“It makes me happy to know it, dear,” his mother said, patting his arm. “We all should have someone with us when we most need them, don’t you think?”
18
Over the course of one and a half days, Fran found herself running so fast, she almost could accept the fact that she was never going to see Ari again.
Part of the problem was her sleeping arrangements. While Emmaline now had a gorgeous solo suite that was near enough to the royal quarters as to make clandestine meetings with Kristos at least technically possible, Nicki, Fran and Lauren were grouped together in a series of suites with adjoining doors. Doors that stayed open twenty-four seven. If Fran decided to sneeze on her own it would be noticed.
Not that it mattered anyway. Ari hadn’t made a single attempt to contact her over the intervening day…and nor should he, she reminded herself now as she leaned into the mirror, applying another layer of mascara to lashes that were already sharp enough to pierce armor. Ari wasn’t her no-strings boyfriend, he was the soon-to-be crown prince of an entire country. She’d helped bring him back, yes, which was super impressive. But not impressive enough to merit a check-in.
