Sam’s chin wobbled slightly and his stammer continued in spite of his effort to control it. ‘I heard Spiro t-talking to one of the carers,’ he said. ‘He said you k-killed my grandfather, and that you said it was an accident, but no one believed you.’
Cassie bit down on her bottom lip. She had naively hoped this conversation was several years away, but the gardener at the orphanage had never liked her since she had spurned his advances a few months ago. But that he would discuss her past with one of the children’s carers was reprehensible to say the least. She loved her job. She needed her job. It wasn’t just the money—the wage was hardly what anyone would call lucrative; it was the fact that for once in her life she was able to give something back to those in need. She had misspent her youth, wasted so many precious years being seen at the right parties with the right people, turning into a glamorous coat hanger for the ‘right’ clothes, mouthing the vacuous words that marked her as a shallow socialite looking for a good time.
The more her prestige-conscious and controlling father had protested, the more outrageous she had become. Cassie hadn’t needed the prison psychologist to tell her why she had behaved the way she had. She had known it from the very first time she had realised what her birthday represented. It was certainly not a date to be celebrated, but she hadn’t realised the sick irony of it until she had faced the judge and jury.
Cassandra Kyriakis had not just killed her father, but on the day she had come into the world she had taken her mother’s life as well.
Cassie hugged Sam close to her chest, breathing in the small-child scent of him, her heart swelling with overwhelming love. ‘We’ll talk about this when I get back and Mummy will explain everything. I won’t be away long, my precious,’ she said. ‘I’m just having a quick lunch with…with a friend.’
Sam eased back in her hold to look up at her. ‘Who with, Mummy? Have I met them?’ he asked.
Cassie shook her head and gently ruffled the black silk of his hair. ‘No, you have never met him,’ she said, her heart aching at the thought of her little boy never knowing his father. She had never known her mother and often wondered if her life would have been different for her if she had.
‘He’s a very important person on Aristo,’ she added. ‘He is soon to be the king.’
Sam’s eyes were like wide black pools. ‘Can I give you a picture to take for him to hang at his palace?’ he said. ‘Do you think he would like that?’
She smiled at him tenderly, her heart squeezing again. ‘You know something, sweetie, I think he would.’
He scampered over to his little wooden desk and brought back a coloured drawing of a dog and a cat and something she thought looked like a horse. ‘If he likes it I can do another one and you can give it to him the next time you see him,’ he said with a shy smile.
‘That’s a great idea,’ Cassie said and, folding the picture neatly, put it in her handbag. She didn’t like to tell her little son she didn’t intend seeing Sebastian again. Instead she got to her feet and, holding his hand, led him back to Sophie, one of the chief carers at the orphanage. She bent down and gave him another quick hug and kiss, and, while Sophie cleverly distracted him with a puzzle she had set out, Cassie quietly slipped out.
* * *
The palace was no less intimidating in the daylight than it had been the night before. With commanding views over most of the island, including the resort and Bay of Apollonia and the casino and the Port of Messaria, the royal residence was much more than a landmark. Every time Cassie had seen those twinkling lights from the prison on the western end of the island she had thought of the richness of Aristo as a kingdom and how Sebastian’s father, King Aegeus, had built it up to be the wealthy paradise it was today.
It was only as Cassie came up to the imposing front gates that she realised Sebastian hadn’t given her instructions on how to gain access. But she need not have worried, for waiting at the entrance was the aide, Stefanos, who had been present the previous evening. After a quick word to the guards on duty he led her through the palace, using a similar route to the night before, but this time taking her to a sitting room overlooking the formal gardens of the palace.
‘The Prince Regent will be with you shortly,’ Stefanos informed her and closed the door firmly on his exit.
Cassie let out her breath in a ragged stream and looked to where a small dining table with two chairs had been assembled in front of one of the large windows.
The door opened behind her and she turned to see Sebastian enter the room. He was wearing charcoal-grey trousers and a white open-necked shirt, the cuffs rolled back casually past his wrists. It didn’t seem to matter what he wore, he still had an imposing air about him, an aura of authority and command that only added to his breathtakingly handsome features.
‘I am glad you decided to come,’ he said into the silence.
‘I figured the orphanage is not quite ready for an impromptu visit from royalty,’ Cassie said, thinking on her feet. ‘The press attention might have upset the children.’
He frowned as he came closer. ‘Seeing you at the gala last night was a shock,’ he said, looking down at her. ‘A big shock.’
‘Did you think I had escaped from prison and had come to gatecrash your party?’ she asked, not quite able to subdue the bitterness in her tone.
He gave her a long and studied look. ‘No, Cassie, I did not think that. It was just that I wish I had been told you had been released.’
‘You could have made your own enquiries,’ she pointed out and, with another embittered look, tacked on, ‘discreetly, of course.’
A two-beat silence passed.
‘You are very bitter,’ he observed.
‘I’ve lost almost six years of my life,’ she bit out. ‘Do you know what that feels like, Sebastian? The world is suddenly a different place. I feel like I don’t belong anywhere any more.’
‘You killed your father, Cassie,’ he reminded her. ‘I am not sure what led you to do that, but the laws of this island dictate you must pay for that in some way. There are many people on Aristo who feel you have been given a very lenient sentence.’
‘Yes, well, they didn’t know my father, did they?’ she shot back without thinking.
His frown deepened. ‘Your father was well respected in all quarters. What are you saying…that he was not the private man we all knew in public?’
Cassie wished she could have pulled her words back. She had revealed far more than she had intended to. She had told no one of her father’s behaviour over the years. Who would believe her if she had? It was a secret, a dirty secret that she alone had lived with. Shame had always kept her silent and it would continue to do so. Besides, she hadn’t done herself any favours behaving like a spoilt brat for most of her life. Her father had played on that for all it was worth, publicly tearing his hair out over her behaviour to all his well-connected friends and colleagues.
Cassie quickly averted her gaze, and, shuffling in her bag, drew out the picture Sam had drawn in a desperate attempt to change the subject. ‘Um…I almost forgot to give you this,’ she said, handing it to him with fingers that made the paper give a betraying rattle. ‘One of the…er…orphans drew it for you. He insisted I give it to you.’
He took the picture and gently unfolded it, his eyes taking in the childish strokes of pencil and brightly coloured crayons. ‘It is very…nice,’ he said and brought his gaze back to hers. ‘You said this child is without parents?’
Cassie looked at him blankly for a moment.
‘Um…well…I…he’s…’