The Reluctant King

Page 6


I held back my laughter at her rude answer. I wasn’t at fault for her plate mix up, but I was disturbingly happy that it happened. An excited energy edged into my nervousness and I enjoyed her candid response. She was a fiery one.

I should have apologized…. that would have been the diplomatic thing to do.

“Technically, I didn’t serve it to you, my staff did. And I had the kitchen prepare a vegetarian entrée for you. If you would have been on time, they would have known which place to serve it to ahead of time.” I offered a cocky smile and watched as her eyes flashed with dangerous heat.

Aware that we had an audience, Amelia swallowed her annoyance and replied with a curt, “You’re right. I apologize for the confusion, it’s my fault.” Her throat worked to swallow and I found my eyes frozen to the pretty lines of her neck and the way she tilted her head trying to keep her composure.

“Still, there are less aggressive meats than a slab of steak,” she finished so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. I had thought she was struggling because she was embarrassed and apologetic, but it was self-righteous anger that sizzled in the air between us.

“Filet Mignon is Eden’s favorite,” I smirked from my end of the table, anxious to hear how she would respond to that.

“He’s right,” Eden interrupted from between us. “I’m sorry Mimi; Avalon was just trying to make me happy.”

Before Amelia could reply the waiter returned with a brand new entrée, hidden by a silver dish cover. The waiter set it down with a flourish and lifted the cover dramatically. Amelia wiggled happily, clasping her hands together before turning her gratitude on the happy server.

I swallowed a wave of annoyance that the waiter had been the recipient of her genuine smile before I waved off my emotions as ridiculous. Amelia could smile at whoever she liked, which apparently wasn’t me for whatever reason. I shouldn’t care what one spoiled kid thought of me.

I didn’t care.

I turned back to my meal and attacked my own steak as if it were still alive. It was cooked perfectly, with just the right amount of red and covered in a dark mushroom sauce. The bite practically melted in my mouth. Filet was an excellent choice for dinner tonight. All of the guests would appreciate something so delicious.

Well almost all of them.

I snuck a discreet glance at Amelia, watching her cut and taste a variety of autumn vegetables. She closed her eyes and savored the bite. I wasn’t close enough to hear, but I was certain she let out a soft moan.

Every clear, rational, logical thought fled my mind and I found myself in a hazy paralysis waiting for her to take her next bite. Feeling the strength of my gaze on her, Amelia opened her eyes and shot me a loathing glare.

“She doesn’t mean anything by it,” Kiran offered softly next to me. I heard the undertones of protective, brotherly love in his voice. He thought I would be angry at Amelia.

“I’m not upset,” I replied curtly, not sure if that was true. I realized my fork was suspended halfway to my mouth and dipped my head to meet it aggressively.

“Ok, good,” Kiran laughed a little in relief. “She isn’t staying long anyway, just through the weekend I think. And then she is meeting her mum back in Zurich for a humanitarian summit or something of the like.”

“Humanitarian summit?” I asked, curiosity sparking inside of me. My blood heated quickly and I felt alive wondering about the pretty vegetarian at the end of the table. When was the last time something had truly interested me?

“Mmm, yes,” Kiran talked around a bite of food. “Since their…. I guess you could say conversion…. Since Aunt Bianca and Amelia lost their titles they turned their money and their efforts toward the poor of humanity. They are very involved in numerous charities all over, and are trying to give away everything they own. Or it seems that way anyway. Jean will never let them become poor, but they’re right in that we could all live with a little less, don’t you think?”

I made an agreeing sound, but didn’t push the conversation further. I felt the same way, and had tasked Eden with spreading our inherited wealth around the world in worthy causes. It was also something I had been trying to impress on the wealthiest of our people, but I had always tried to avoid Bianca and so we had never had the conversation. Even if, in the end, she had seen the necessity for Lucan’s death, she was still his sister. I had a hard time facing her, knowing how much I cared for my own sister and how hard it would be for me to lose Eden even if she were an evil tyrant. I had a hard time looking Bianca in the eye knowing I had been very instrumental in Lucan’s downfall and had a direct hand in his ultimate death.

Our plates were cleared and people began to move around the outside space. There was a dance floor and the music subtly changed from soft background music to big band, jazz, rat-pack stuff that people could dance to. After the first of countless dinner parties, I had abolished the tired, boring formal dining that took five courses and sucked hours of my life into the meaningless vacuum of polite conversation. But in order to appease the people, which I was always about appeasing the people, I had compromised to three courses. Appetizers were served cocktail party style while everyone mingled, dinner was served sitting down and dessert was set out on elegant tables around the square for people to enjoy at their pleasing.

I felt very diplomatic with that decision, until I realized the most important decision I had made as King thus far was about food….

I got up from the table, knowing I had important hands to shake. Eden and Kiran had already been sucked into the endless polite politics of our culture and so I headed in the opposite direction, hoping for a whole divide and conquer scenario. Ok, mostly I was hoping the majority of people here tonight would want to talk to them and leave me alone.

I walked toward the dance floor, not really with a purpose in mind, just pulled in by the expert skills of the musicians and the gravelly voice of the singer belting out Frank Sinatra. All ages of couples waltzed around the floor, lost in each other and the beauty of the evening.

“Avalon, you must be thrilled to welcome your sister home,” an older woman grabbed both of my hands, squeezing them in her soft clasp. I couldn’t remember her name, but her accent was American so I felt like I should know her.

“I am,” I replied easily, still trying to figure out her name.

“And two of your closest friends, engaged? Things really are falling into place for you,” she kept hold of my hands and I tried my best to squash the urge to retract them. It was awkward holding them like this.

“Yes, for me and the Kingdom. Our first cross-racial marriage, I cannot wait to see the ripple effects as the freedom of choice spreads through our people,” I preached.

“Of course,” her eyes narrowed just the slightest and I wondered if she was one of the older generation that was having trouble embracing our new way of life. “Will it spread to you?” She recovered and I wanted to put my face into my palm. I asked for this.

“One day,” I offered noncommittally.

Laughter broke my concentration and I followed the sound to those legs again, standing a little ways away. Amelia stood with her back to me, talking with Jericho. I admired her for a moment, her short skirt showed off her long, tanned legs and her dress was all lace from slim shoulders to curvy waist, revealing a perfectly sculpted back. Her golden brown hair was pulled off her neck and up into something only girls had names for; one long strand of glossy hair had escaped and blew against the nape of her neck in the gentle evening breeze.

It was then that I made my decision.

I had to talk to her.

“If you’ll excuse me, I see someone I need to speak with,” I apologized and when I saw disappointment in the lady’s eyes I improvised. “I know Eden was hoping to speak with you though,” I gestured with my arm, escaping her weird handhold.

Excitement and entitlement sparked in her gray eyes and she released me immediately, “Of course, enjoy your evening.”

“You too,” I mumbled, but I was already on my way across the space separating me from Amelia.

I kept my eyes on her slender back, promising myself it was so I wouldn’t accidentally meet some talkative person’s eyes and get sucked into another meaningless conversation. She was deep in conversation with Jericho by the time I got closer. They were laughing at something, and she had put a hand on his arm just like she had the waiter. She leaned into him, her laugh rose above all the other sounds like musical bells. At the same time I felt both relieved that I had an excuse to join their conversation and an obnoxious stab of jealousy that Jericho had somehow fallen into her good graces so easily.

I cleared my throat before I got to them, mentally berating myself for caring so much what one girl thought. She was exactly what I wasn’t looking for in a girl. Spoiled, rich, a symbol of the old Monarchy, a Kendrick…. a vegetarian. I almost turned away right then, realizing I wasn’t looking for a girl at all, and especially not this one.

“Avalon,” Jericho called out before I could turn away. “Mimi was just telling me about some of her humanitarian work in India.” Jericho turned a bit serious before continuing, “Avalon is always trying to get our people to give back to humanity and get involved in charities. He thinks we could all be doing something more with our money.”

“That surprises me,” Amelia sobered completely, her golden eyes turning to steel. “I mean with all the poverty surrounding this Citadel.”

“I, uh….” I stuttered, not expecting her accusatory response. Usually I was the one trying to convince people to do more.

“Or maybe it’s easier to preach philanthropy than practice it?” Her eyes narrowed, her arms crossed and she practically turned her back on Jericho waiting for my response.

I looked to Jericho for help; he was the one that pulled me into this after all. I bet she wasn’t accusing Jericho of being a hypocrite… her conversation with him seemed so much nicer.

“Eden’s in charge of where our money goes,” I explained, knowing that since Eden was one of her closest friends she wouldn’t be able to fault me. I tugged at the collar of my white dress shirt, it was open at the collar, and I wasn’t wearing a tie, but still it felt suddenly suffocating.

Amelia softened just a little, her shoulders relaxed and she sucked in her bottom lip thoughtfully before she continued, “And is that enough, Avalon? Just giving away money? Or do you think philanthropy involves getting your hands dirty too?”

It wasn’t her fault there was still a thirteen year old boy hidden deep inside of me. I flashed a grin at her and stepped in a little bit closer so that I wouldn’t be overheard, “I’ve never been able to keep my hands clean, Amelia.”

She flinched when I said her name, and I enjoyed the way her eyes flashed to my lips. She stiffened then, tossing her chin in the air like I had offended her and turned to Jericho.

Jericho’s eyes had widened in response to our interaction and I wondered what he thought of Amelia’s natural defiance. She slipped her arm around his elbow, pressing her side against Jericho’s. I refused to acknowledge any of the emotions that bubbled through my veins like hot lava at the sight of their touching.

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