The Most Powerful Of Kings - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,41

and Adonis had always been the responsible one. And once his mother had gone, he’d only had his father left.

Yes, he could tell her that.

Or he could tell her how Xenophon had been extra-vigilant after his mother had died, making it his mission to ‘harden up’ his oldest son. He’d given Adonis a puppy and then, when the dog had grown, had given Adonis a gun and told him to kill it.

Adonis hadn’t been able to. He’d been twelve and furious, weeping with rage at himself and his inability to do what his father had asked and shoot his beloved pet. He’d tried, but his heart had got in the way. Again, he’d been weak. In the end he’d had to give the dog to someone else—his father would only have killed the animal himself if Adonis hadn’t got rid of it—and hoped that that would be enough for his father.

It wasn’t enough. Xenophon had punished him, told him that the lessons in detachment would continue until Adonis learned how to put his feelings completely to the side, because their enemies would show no mercy and so neither could Xenophon.

Or he could tell her about how Xenophon had kidnapped Xerxes, hiding his own identity to test Xerxes’s strength and will, torturing him in a cell beneath the palace. He’d ensured that Adonis had been present behind a locked door, with instructions that he absolutely must not interfere. Adonis had had to sit there, listening to his brother’s cries, knowing that the moment he tried to get to Xerxes, Xenophon would only redouble his efforts. The only way to end Xerxes’s suffering was to do what his father wanted, to lock those feelings away, to endure.

So he had. He’d turned his heart into a block of ice, into stone. A dead hearth in which nothing burned. It had been hard, because his emotions had always been fierce, raw things and he’d found it difficult to contain them.

But he’d had to. For his mother’s sake. For his brother’s. For his country’s.

Yes, he could tell her all those things. But he wouldn’t. They weren’t her burdens to bear; they were his.

‘No,’ he repeated, icily. ‘I’m afraid that’s none of your business, little nun.’

That expression was in her eyes again, the one that made his chest hurt. And it made him angry for no good reason. Her hand was rising again and he knew she’d forget herself this time, and that couldn’t happen.

‘Anna.’ He kept his voice hard. ‘Don’t forget where we are.’

She took a small, audible breath, her half-lifted hand dropping again. But the expression in her eyes didn’t change. ‘I’m sorry.’

Her voice sounded small and he had the impression that she wasn’t apologising for forgetting herself, but for something else. Something deeper. It made him want to ask what she meant, but already he’d stood here too long. Already he’d spent too much time with her, especially when he had dozens of other people he had to talk to before the night was out.

‘Is that all?’ he asked without inflection. ‘Forgive me, I have many other commitments tonight.’

It was a dismissal and he made sure it sounded like one, and he could see a bolt of hurt dart through her eyes. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t any other way to handle this. Besides, she was the one who’d cornered him, not the other way around.

He waited for her to curtsey and leave, but it took her a moment to realise that was what he was expecting. Finally she did, and dutifully sank down. Yet as she was rising he caught the sudden drain of colour in her pretty pink cheeks. And he saw her sway. And when her hand came out as if to grab hold of something he was there.

And when she fell he caught her, holding her close as she fainted away in his arms.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ANNA CAME SLOWLY back to consciousness to the sound of a man talking quietly. He had a very deep voice that she found inexplicably soothing, and so she didn’t open her eyes immediately. She was lying on something hard and yet incredibly warm, that deep, gravelly voice was all around her, and she didn’t want to move. She felt safe and protected in a way she hadn’t for years, if ever, and, since she was tired, more tired than she’d ever felt in her life, she saw no reason to open her eyes.

His voice continued and she drifted for a moment, content to

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