‘Inara Donati.’ She gave him an owlish look. ‘Well? Will you help me?’
He hadn’t heard of the Donatis. Then again, he’d never paid attention to the interminable lessons about royal protocol his father had put him and his brother through when they’d been children which, among other things, had required memorising the list of important Aveiran families.
Perhaps the Donatis were part of the nouveau riche who were desperate to claim links to the aristocracy in order to bolster their own social standing. Aveirans were notoriously snobbish when it came to their lineages and arranged marriages were common. Though they didn’t usually start them off that young.
Whatever the case, if what she said was true—and she probably wasn’t lying—then marrying off this child to Stefano Castelli was nothing short of criminal.
Cassius seldom stirred himself for others, because he was nothing if not committed to his life of supreme self-indulgence, but he didn’t like that thought. At all.
‘I need more information,’ he said. ‘Your real age, for example.’
She looked irritated by this. ‘I don’t see how—’
‘If you please,’ Cassius commanded.
The girl pulled a face. ‘Okay, fine. I’m sixteen.’
It wasn’t illegal to be married at sixteen, not if you had your parents’ permission, or in this case your parents’ insistence.
‘I see,’ he said carefully. ‘And why are they so set on the marriage?’
‘Because the Castellis are an old family and my parents want to be part of the aristocracy.’ Inara fiddled with her bag. ‘Is that all?’
‘What about other family members who could help you? Or friends, perhaps?’ It was a perfectly reasonable question, but he thought he knew the answer to that already.
She shook her head. ‘I’m an only child and no one will stand up to my father.’
A difficult situation. Even more difficult when her parents had a legal responsibility for her until she turned eighteen.
You could help her, though. No one will say no to a prince. And perhaps this is your chance to show your father what you’re made of.
Cassius didn’t care what his father thought of him, but the old man had been on his back about his behaviour recently and it was getting tiresome. Because, while it was true that when his brother ascended the throne Cassius would be expected to be his right-hand man, Cassius wasn’t going to be king himself, so why should he have to conform?
Still, this girl had come to him for help, and she was looking at him as if he was her saviour. This was something of a novelty, when his family tended to view him as the disappointment he was, while his lovers were only hungry for the pleasure he could bring them.
No one looked at him as though he could save them, as though he was the answer to all their prayers.
He liked it.
Except...being this girl’s saviour would be difficult. She was under age, and therefore still under her parents’ guardianship, and, though he might be able to find her a refuge, if her parents claimed her he wouldn’t be able to stop them. No one was above the law, not even royalty.
There was the police, but the filing of reports took time, as did investigations into abuse allegations, and that was probably time this girl didn’t have.
He could ask the King for help, of course, but his father never looked kindly on his activities. Besides, a small piece of him didn’t want to ask his father for help anyway. A small piece of him wanted to save this girl himself.
Yet how? If he could somehow become her legal guardian, that would be ideal, but also impossible, considering her parents were still alive.
The girl frowned at him. ‘It’s easy. All you have to do is keep me for a couple of hours and everyone will think—’
‘Everyone will think that my tastes run to under-age girls and, while it’s true that I don’t care much about my reputation, I care enough not to want rumours like that attached to my name.’
She bit her lip. ‘Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘Clearly.’ He kept his tone dry. ‘Also, I’m afraid that, while virginity might be valued in some circles, I’m pretty sure Stefano Castelli wouldn’t care if you were one or not. He just wants heirs.’
Her forehead creased, a line appearing in the smooth skin between her brows. She looked...anxious. No, more than that. She looked scared.
‘Then what should I do?’ Desperation suddenly glowed in her eyes. ‘I could leave the country. I could—’