The Most Powerful Of Kings - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,3

and had been sending him letters ever since his wife had died five years earlier. She’d said they were to ‘comfort him in his time of need’. But Adonis didn’t need comforting and he didn’t need his godmother recommending various women to him as prospects for his next queen. He got far too much of that from his own royal council and their insistence that he take a wife; he didn’t need it from one elderly English nun.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if said nun had ignored his gentle but firm commands to mind her own business and had sent him this pretty woman instead.

It was irritating and he was tempted to send her straight back to where she had come from, but if he didn’t even grant her an audience, the Reverend Mother would no doubt only send him another sacrificial lamb and he really didn’t want an endless procession of novices turning up at his front door.

And there was the issue of his daughter, who did, in fact, need a civilising influence.

He opened his mouth to ask her another question about her supposed purpose here when the doors suddenly burst open and a hellion in a blue dress with a plastic breastplate worn over the top, a helmet pressed down over her red curls, and waving a plastic sword came tumbling in.

She screeched to a halt beside the couch, waved the sword threateningly and shouted in Axian, ‘Don’t move or I’ll cut your heads off. Right now!’

The nun’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Princess Ione, Lioness of Axios and first in line to the throne.

‘Ione,’ Adonis growled. ‘English, please. And where are your manners?’

His daughter whirled, took in his face, and the sword drooped. ‘Sorry, Papa,’ she said, switching languages effortlessly and looking contrite. Then she threw her weapon down, came over to the couch, and without even asking climbed into his lap and held a finger up in front of his face. ‘My finger hurts. Can you kiss it better?’

She had begun to do this more and more whenever she was in his presence. Reach for his hand. Throw her arms around him. Beg to be picked up. Cry when he told her no and then shout that she hated him, not caring who might be around to note her behaviour.

It was unacceptable. A king was always under threat from enemies and anyone close to him could be a target to be used against him. So he tried to make sure that no one got too close. That had been relatively simple to achieve; he had no close friends anyway and no confidants. No one he trusted. He even kept his younger brother, Prince Xerxes, at arm’s length.

Unfortunately, his daughter was too young to understand why this was necessary and why her father wasn’t the same as other people’s, and as she’d grown older she had become needier, and more demanding of him. She wouldn’t do what she was told, was wilfully disobedient, had screaming tantrums loud enough to wake the dead, and he’d been forced to come to the conclusion that she needed taking in hand.

He’d hoped not to use the methods his own father had used on him, since they were a blunt instrument at best, and Ione was still too young for that anyway. He’d opted for a...gentler way. A meek, obedient nun, for example.

Whatever the case, Ione needed to learn control, how to detach herself from her emotions, because a monarch could not be ruled by their heart.

He had learned. So could she.

He ignored her finger just as he ignored the urge to kiss it better. Those fatherly impulses were strong, but he was stronger.

‘You cannot sit on me, Ione,’ Adonis said, gently putting his daughter back on her feet again. ‘How many times must I tell you?’

Ione’s jaw got that pugnacious look, which usually heralded a tantrum, so he distracted her. ‘This lady is Sister Anna. She might be here to be your friend.’

The tactic worked. Ione forgot her finger and looked over at the little nun. ‘Her? But she doesn’t even have a sword,’ she said, somewhat disdainfully.

At that point, the nun seemed to break out of her paralysis and smiled.

And Adonis felt something inside him flicker, like a spark in a cold, dead hearth.

Because that smile was breathtaking. It lit up her face, turning it from pretty to stunning in seconds flat, those fog-grey eyes glittering with silver fire.

It felt as if the sun had come into the room.

‘Hello,’