Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,240

curse.

Jonathan's image rose in my mind like an unwanted demon-- demanding, beautiful, overwhelming.

Young, powerful, and charismatic, the politician was a force to be reckoned with. He wore his heritage proudly, often partaking in the traditional dances and blessings of the Manari people. He'd quickly worked his way up the ranks of the conservative party, endearing himself to young and old, firmly holding a centralist line.

And yet he didn't fit the type. He didn't fall entirely in line with the party ideals. He challenged. He pushed. He called out when he saw injustice being served. He represented a new breed of conservatives, a younger generation who wanted radical change—and was willing to meet the opposition in the middle.

A far cry from the man before me who could barely make it through a meeting without casting aspersions against those across the aisle.

"You should be worried," the Prime Minister told me, finally meeting my gaze. "If he wins, he'll call for a referendum. He hates everything the Monarchy represents."

Does he? Or are you attempting to sway me to your argument, Prime Minister?

I calmly sipped from my cup, considering my next move.

"Has he a good chance?"

The Prime Minister grunted, dropping the delicate cup back into the saucer with a noisy clatter. "He'll be leader by tomorrow."

How interesting.

The palace had eyes and ears everywhere, word should have reached me long before this moment. Instead, this coup must have been silent and swift.

"You'll resign then?"

"Yes." He mopped his brow once more. "Call the election, say it's time for new blood, then hand over to the blackguard."

I ignored the insult. "What does he hold over you?"

The Prime Minister's gaze snapped to mine, his eyes widening a fraction.

"Come, Tony. We both know there's only one reason you'd ever leave the leadership."

He swallowed. "It matters not but that I'm gone."

I allowed him that for I'd find out soon enough.

"Well," I gestured at a maid who stood on the far side of the room. "If this is to be our last meeting then I suspect we should toast to your next endeavour."

We sipped whiskey as we discussed affairs of state and what he would do in his retirement, then a scant thirty minutes later I bid farewell to the pompous jackass.

Not so pompous now.

My secretary, Victoria, hovered nearby.

"Did you know?" I asked, watching Tony's car slowly roll down the long drive, leaving the palace grounds.

For the final time I should hope.

"Not until he confirmed it."

I arched an eyebrow, giving her a look. "But you suspected and didn't tell me?"

She swallowed. "Jonathan, I mean Mr. Tuhana, had been seen in most electorates over the last month." She pulled out her tablet, handing it to me. "But we had no intelligence that this was on the card. We felt it better to wait for confirmation before raising with you."

I flicked through the map, clicking on each of the points to see who he'd met with and when.

"Impressive," I murmured begrudgingly.

Alone, each of these events looked innocent. They were within his portfolio, health and education announcements, visits to projects. But together?

Together, they were a patchwork of masterful manoeuvring. He'd been meeting with core donors, strategic party players, and the old guard to stage this takeover.

"How did Tony not see this?" I muttered, flicking through, then pausing as I landed on one of the event photos.

Jonathan wore traditional dress, his chest bare but for his tribal tattoos, a colourful grass weave skirt hung low on his hips. In his hand he gripped a spear, no doubt one passed through his family line, judging by the faded colours. Around his shoulders hung a peripuni, or warrior cape, made from the skins of the giant tufted boar that lived in the mountains to our north. Adorning the cape were the stories of his ancestors told through the bright paint and beads, feathers, and braids that decorated the hide.

I had one similar, passed to me by my mother's mother— the women in my family fierce warriors, their blood line now that of a queen.

"He's a fine-looking man," Victoria murmured, giving her eyebrows a little wiggle. "And single."

I closed the image, handing the tablet back to her. "And a conservative." I shot her a wry smile. "No matter how attractive a man is, they somehow seem less so when they can't seem to accept the rule of a woman."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "That's not it, surely? He seems against the crown, not against you personally."

"It seems that way, doesn't it?"

"Do you know him?"

I swallowed, closing my eyes