Royal Ruse - Emma Lea Page 0,4

her. “Have you told Frankie?”

I shook my head. “Not yet,” I said.

I would have rung Frankie as soon as Mother left my office, except I knew she had an appointment with her Ph.D. supervisor. I really wanted to talk to her, but it would have to wait.

“I’ll call her soon,” I said as I turned to go.

“I’m sure she’ll tell you the same thing I did,” Effie said, her eyes drifting back to the computer screen.

“I’m sure she will.”

If Effie was unimpressed with Clarissa, then she was positively enamored with Frankie. Effie and Frankie got on like a house on fire, and if I hadn’t met her first, Effie would have made Frankie her best friend. They had a common interest—looking out for me.

Chapter 2

Lucas

“So the king wants to see you,” Demetrius Andino said as I walked into the library.

My father was seated behind his large mahogany desk with a glass of raïda in his hand. It wasn’t his first by the distinct aniseed scent in the air, and wouldn’t be his last before he crawled into bed.

Since handing the company over to Effie, Demetrius spent his days on the Brae Burn golf course or at the club drinking with his cronies. The desk in the library was only there to make him feel like he still had at least a toe in the waters of Andino Raïda. But we all knew the truth, Effie was the boss and she only let us play in her sandbox.

I didn’t think my father minded all that much. He’d spent a good portion of his life working in the company, first in his youth back in Kalopsia under the instruction of his father and his grandfather, and then re-establishing it here in America after we fled Kalopsia. We were some of the lucky ones, escaping with most of our fortune and our lives. Others weren’t so fortunate.

“He does,” I replied, taking the seat opposite the desk and smoothing my tie.

I was on my way out when my father summoned me. I really didn’t have the headspace to deal with his posturing, not when I was trying to remember all the words I wanted to say to Clarissa.

“And you’ll be taking Clarissa?”

I nodded. Nothing in my life was private. I didn’t even try to keep secrets anymore. It was easier to avoid the conflict and just let the family pry into my life. I had nothing to hide, anyway. My life was very boring, although I preferred it that way.

“Good,” Demetrius said with a sharp nod. “You need her.”

I didn’t answer, even if the pronouncement stung a little. I knew I wasn’t what my father had hoped for in a first-born son, but it still upset me to be constantly reminded of it.

“Have you told him, yet?” Mother asked as she swept into the room and headed straight for the liquor cabinet.

“I was just getting to it,” Father replied.

I held in my sigh and stilled my fidgeting while I waited for them to say whatever it was they felt was important enough to make me late for my date.

“We are concerned about you taking on the title and going to Kalopsia,” Father said as Mother took the seat beside me.

“Kalopsia is not what it used to be,” Mother said, pursing her lips before taking a sip of her drink.

“Which is why we have agreed that unless you are married, I won’t pass the title to you.”

“Um…what?”

I didn’t know if my father had the authority to deny me the title, especially if the king decreed the title was to go to me.

Mother patted my knee and smiled a sad, patronizing smile at me like I was a two-year-old who didn’t understand why I couldn’t have candy for dinner.

“All the decent people fled the country,” she said. “The only ones left are the poor and desperate. They will take one look at you and your title and seduce you without another thought.”

I swallowed, mortified at my mother’s opinion of me.

“I don’t think it will be an issue,” I said, thankful my voice didn’t waver. “I’m proposing to Clarissa tonight. We might not be married, but we will be engaged by the time I leave.”

“Yes, good,” Father said with a nod and a gruff voice. “But just in case things don’t go as you expected, if she turns you down, then we won’t let you go.”

“You think Clarissa will turn me down?” I asked, my voice very nearly squeaking.

“Of course not, dear,” Mother said, once more patting