head spun. This was actually happening. “Go ahead.”
“I fly back to Carnelia tomorrow for a summit of regional leaders. It would be ideal if you accompanied me so we can make the engagement announcement and begin preparations for the wedding.”
Tomorrow? She had been craving this time to herself so badly.
He read her dismay. “General Houlis, the chief architect behind the military junta, has put his campaign into motion, marshaling strength behind the scenes. His support is by no means solid—he still has a long way to go. We need to neutralize him while we can.”
“I’m assuming the coming elections will be a major weapon at your disposal?”
“Yes. I will announce them at the summit this week. There will be a large media contingent in attendance. Nik will also be there. We will provide a united front.”
“And our engagement? Do we announce that before or after?”
“I will double-check with the palace PR team, but I was thinking this coming Friday. Start the week with a bang at the conference, end the week with an equally strong commitment toward the future.”
“And the wedding? When would that happen?”
“Within two months. Six weeks, I’m thinking. Those who can make it, make it.”
“Six weeks?”
“The events team will make it happen. You just need to show up.”
Like her role in all of this. A chess piece to be moved around at will.
His expression turned conciliatory. “I know it’s traditional for the engagement party to happen in Akathinia, but in this instance, I think it needs to be in Carnelia with all the key figures in attendance.
Her mother was going to have a fit. A deviant streak reveled in the thought. She enjoyed every opportunity she had to push her aloof mother out of her comfort zone. A latent lashing out against her childhood perhaps, at the attention she’d never received.
“That’s fine.” She watched her dream sabbatical fly out the metaphorical window. She could hardly relax on a beach now knowing what was ahead of her.
“Good.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. Caught off guard, she was blinded by its brilliance. A square-cut diamond set in an exquisite platinum filigree, it dazzled in the sunlight. Upon closer inspection, she saw it had the Carnelian coat of arms interwoven on both sides.
“You were that sure of me?”
“Hopeful. This was my mother’s ring. One of the few remaining mementos I have of her.”
Her chest tightened, a sandpapery feeling invading her throat. “She died when you were very young, I remember.”
“When I was four. I have no real memories of her.”
She studied his impassive expression. What must it have been like to grow up without any warmth in his life? With only his universally despised tyrant of a father to guide him? Had he had someone else to confide in, to love him—a grandmother, a godmother? She couldn’t remember him talking of one. Or had he always been alone?
Athamos had once remarked Kostas was the only man he knew who could look alone in the middle of a crowd. It was something she’d never forgotten. How could she?
“Your hand,” Kostas prompted, pulling her back into the moment.
She held her hand out, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. He slid the ring on, his big hand engulfing hers. The enormity of what she was about to do lodged in her throat as she stared at the stone blazing on her finger. It was a ring that not only symbolized the commitment she was making to Kostas, but also the weight of a nation that now lay squarely on her shoulders.
Kostas held her gaze in his dark, unfathomable one. “Efharisto, Stella. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this. We will make a powerful team. We will give Carnelians the future they deserve.”
His energy pulsed through her. Sank into the very heart of her. Her future was now inexorably intertwined with a man she had vowed to hate, a man for whom she now realized her feelings were far more complex than she’d ever anticipated. But there was no looking back now. It was done.
THE DAYS FOLLOWING Stella’s return to Akathinia passed in a blur, likely a good thing given the magnitude of what she’d committed herself to. She knew her decision to marry Kostas had been the right one, knew this was the challenge she had been looking for. It was the noise that was getting to her.
Everyone seemed to have an opinion on her upcoming nuptials to the king of Carnelia, from her hairdresser, who pronounced him “a real man among the current flock of pseudo-men,” to her sister, Aleksandra, who agreed with her hairdresser, referring to Kostas as “one sexy hunk of a man,” to the celebrity press, who’d dubbed their pairing “the most exciting thing to happen to royalty in decades. Camelot has come to Carnelia.”
The traditional media, on the other hand, Kostas’s harshest critics, were taking a wait-and-see approach. Not all of them were convinced King Idas’s son, the thirty-two-year-old Oxford-educated proponent of democracy, could turn his legacy around. Rumblings of military discontent were rippling across the country, approval ratings for the monarchy were down and all bets were off as to whether Kostas could win the hearts and minds of Carnelians.
But there was also hope. The Carnelian people seemed guardedly optimistic, as spontaneous parties broke out in the streets as the first elections in the country’s history were announced for the fall. Those celebrations continued with the news of the king’s forthcoming match to the elder princess of Akathinia. For the great majority, she appeared the bright, promising light Kostas had painted, but for others she was an unknown quantity in a culture historically closed to outsiders. Not a Carnelian.
That would have to be overcome, she thought grimly as she flew to London for an official appearance the week before her engagement party. The future of a country, the self-determination of its people, depended on it, though they were so wounded at the moment, they weren’t sure what they wanted.
The oppressive media coverage dogged her as she attended a charity luncheon in support of one of the major hospital’s cancer units. What started out as a peaceful affair was hijacked by the news of her upcoming nuptials. Irritation chasing a beat up her spine, she apologized to her hostess. It was only a taste of the wedding madness, she knew, and it left her in an exceedingly cranky mood as she returned to Akathinia for a dress fitting with her sister-in-law, Sofía, and sister, Alex. A designer who was making her name on the world stage, Sofía was creating both her engagement party and wedding dresses.
“What do you think about this?” Sofía held up a sensational sapphire-hued backless satin gown in the bright light of her palace workshop at the front of the white Maltese stone Akathinian palace.
“Too obvious.”
Sofía returned the dress to the rack and pulled out a white chiffon gown for her inspection.
“Too virginal.”
Her sister-in-law flicked through the row of dresses
