“You know what? I think we should pick some flowers for the party,” AJ said gruffly. “At least we can manage not to disappoint my mom on that score.”
“Of course.” She tried to sound crisp and sensible. “I know a grove where we can fill both jugs without damaging the growing plants. Follow me.” She marched past him up the sand, then wondered if it was appropriate to command a royal son—a future king, perhaps—to follow her. Life was so confusing once you became entangled with centuries of tradition and expectation. A foolish girl, she’d had no idea what she was getting into. What she was getting her future children into.
She heard AJ’s steady footfalls behind her. He was too confident, too at home with himself to get upset by following a woman. What a refreshing change from Vanu, who would have spent the whole day needling her with the error of her ways. And AJ’s solid presence behind her was reassuring. Since Vanu disappeared she’d become afraid of being alone out here in the jungle. What if he suddenly reappeared, crueler than ever, to take his revenge on her for being happy that he’d vanished?
What would AJ think about that? That she was happy his brother was dead. Yet another secret she had to carry with her to the grave. The burden made her heavy on her feet.
Her hand had strayed to her belly again and she jerked it away. “Not much farther.” If only she could tell him about the baby. If he knew all the facts, they could really talk, and come to some decisions together. But it was her duty—her royal obligation—to remain silent.
They reached a shady grove where lush white lilies clustered around the trunks of trees. “We can cut these. They only bloom for a few days, and they reproduce like crazy.” She pulled the small shears from her pocket and cut a clump of stems. The full, pale blooms looked suddenly bereft, severed from their roots. She shoved them quickly into AJ’s offered jug.
“Lucky flowers to live such a carefree existence. And now they get to attend one of Mom’s royal balls.” His warm grin evaporated some of the gloom that had settled over her. “At least the party will keep her busy for a few days so she won’t be too sad.”
“She does love organizing things.” Lani smiled. “And she’s never happier than when surrounded by a thousand of her closest friends.”
“And I guess you and I can plaster smiles on our faces for an evening. Though you can imagine what they’ll all be thinking.”
Lani bit her lip. “Yes. I think I can.”
“They’ll be whispering—so, is that film-director son going to marry the widow?” He spoke in a funny, Rahiian busybody voice that made Lani laugh, despite the ball of dread that had settled firmly at the bottom of her stomach.
“They will. Most likely they’ll assume it, since you’re still here.”
“We could walk around scowling at each other, just to make things exciting and keep them guessing.” He shot her a wry smile.
Lani managed to smile back. They had every reason to keep guessing. She certainly was. Would AJ agree to marry her? Would he believe her “premature baby” was really his? Or would he take off back to L.A., leaving her to raise her child by herself?
Or was there another outcome, perhaps harsher than she could even imagine, that had not yet presented itself?
Four
Violin music hummed over the murmur of a thousand conversations as the ballroom filled to capacity with Priia’s invited guests. Sweat prickled inside AJ’s stiff collar. He wore a starched black tunic and matching pants, a funerary version of Rahiian party attire. The sleek getup would look downright hip on the streets of Beverley Hills, but the traditional garb made him itch as if he’d stepped into someone else’s skin.
“Arun!” He startled at the sound of his given name—no one ever used it—and glanced up to see a white-haired man approaching. AJ immediately recognized his father’s oldest friend. Despite his stiffened gait and wrinkled visage, the old man’s eyes twinkled as brightly as ever as he gripped AJ in a fierce embrace. “It’s so good to see you back home again. Your return brings both tears and smiles to all our eyes.”
AJ swallowed. “It’s good to be back.” The lie scorched his tongue and he took a quick swig of punch. “How are you these days, sir?”
“Sir? Sir!” The tanned face creased into a million lines. “What way is that for our new king to address one of his subjects. You should call me Niuu like all these other overdressed fools.”
Our new king.
AJ fought the urge to come right out and say “I’m not staying,” but he didn’t want to ruin his mom’s party. “I’ll try. Old habits are hard to break. I feel a bit like a kid again, surrounded by all my parents’ old friends.”
“You are a kid, my boy, at least compared to me, and that’s what Rahiri needs. Fresh energy to take us into the future. You will keep making films, won’t you? My wife and I do enjoy the Dragon Chaser series.”
“Films, yes, I imagine so.” It was the ruling Rahiri part he didn’t intend on. “I’m surprised people here watch my films.”
“We’re so proud of you, Arun, making a name for yourself and for our island in Hollywood.”
AJ fought a smile. He certainly didn’t think of himself as representing Rahiri with his work. Maybe that is how people here saw it, though. He’d never given the matter much thought.
The old man grasped his upper arm. “Do keep funding the schools, won’t you? They’re our future. So much young talent on this island. And our healthcare system is second to none. Your father put all that in place, and it will take a strong guiding hand to keep the rudder steady as you lead us into the future.” The gnarled fingers tightened around his biceps. “You’re strong, all right. Built like one of the ancient ones! Quite unlike your brother, Vanu.” The man’s expression grew clouded. “We’re all sorry for his loss, of course, but ready to move into the future under your capable leadership.”
“I appreciate your faith in me.” AJ searched his brain for things to say that didn’t disappoint but didn’t actually commit him to anything. Or make his growing guilt any more agonizing.
“Naturally I have faith in you. You’re your father’s son. He raised you to be a man and take responsibility for those in need.” He clapped his other hand on AJ’s bicep, holding him in a kind of armlock. “We need you, Arun, and we’re proud to have you as our new king.”
AJ opened his mouth but no words came out. He glanced over the old man’s shoulder and caught sight of Lani on the other side of the room. Standing dead still amidst the swirling crowds, she looked pale and lost. “Please excuse me.”
He hurried through the crowd, managing nods and waves to faces he hadn’t seen in years. Lani didn’t even see him approach. Her eyes were fixed high on a carved column, her expression vacant, as if trying to forget where she was.
“Lani, you okay?”
She jumped and blinked. “Of course.” Her wide eyes gave her a startled expression.
“You look like a three-toed sloth who’s accidentally fallen out of her tree onto a multilane highway.”
“Funny, since that exactly how I feel.” A tiny smile tugged at the edges of her lovely mouth—then disappeared.
“Too many people wanting something from you? I know how that is.” What did Lani want? If he asked, he knew she’d give him the party line from his mom rather than a straight answer. She’d say she wanted to marry him, whether she did or not. And why would she? They’d barely met and weren’t at all suited to each other. He was a hard-partying film director and she was a quiet village girl—albeit a royal one. “You don’t look well.”
“I’m