Suddenly the king smiled. “Vladimir, old friend,” he coaxed. “You have known me all my life. I learned court protocol at your knee. And many times you shielded Mara from my father’s wrath—do you think I could forget that?” His smile faded. “But this is important to me. You cannot know how important. I realize it is a breach of state protocol, but do not fail me in this, old friend. Miss Richardson will be portraying Queen Eleonora in the film. I wish her to be treated as such, and not just in this way. In every way. She will be housed in the Queen’s Suite.”
Andre turned sharply and strode away before he betrayed himself any further. He’d worked tirelessly for this day for almost three years, ever since he ascended the throne. Now he would risk his future on one roll of the dice. But he wanted everything perfect beforehand. Everything that could be done to set the stage would be done. Then...if he lost...if he failed...he would have no one to blame except himself.
He’d been up since dawn, unable to sleep, knowing that in mere hours she would be here. Knowing that somewhere in the skies over the Atlantic Ocean, then over Europe, his men were closely guarding—albeit without her knowledge—the one woman for whom this entire endeavor had been undertaken. The woman for whom he’d paid the modern-day equivalent of a king’s ransom to ensure she would finally return to Zakhar.
Juliana.
Even her name had the power to move him in ways he’d fought for years. Her memory burned white hot in his mind and his body. How many times had he cursed himself that he couldn’t change his constant nature? How many times had he wished he was not a Marianescu? And how many times had he argued in his mind with the first Andre Alexei, only to hear the inevitable answer he did not want to hear, the same answer his namesake had implacably given to the church, to his Privy Council, to his subjects—it is her...or no one.
Forever and a day.
Most of the cast and crew of King’s Ransom were already here and had been for several weeks: shooting exterior shots, scoping out the palace—especially the older wings—planning camera angles, testing lighting schemes and doing all the thousand and one things that went into making a blockbuster feature film. But the leads, the actor and actress who would portray the first King Andre Alexei and his beloved Queen Eleonora—Dirk DeWinter and Juliana Richardson—were arriving later this morning. And the grand, formal reception for the entire cast and crew was set for tonight in the Great Hall.
Restless energy pulsed through his body, and Andre strode into the impressive Great Hall, with its massive mahogany pillars, three-story arched ceiling festooned with a grandiose display of gold inlay, and thick red-and-gold rug so immense it covered nearly the entire expanse of the floor.
Maids, footmen and equerries were hard at work preparing the room for the guests who would be there tonight. Banks of flowers and potted trees were being installed around the room, not just from the royal gardens but from professional nurseries in Drago and beyond, bringing the sweet freshness of the outdoors inside. The dust covers swathing the chandeliers had been removed, and in the morning light each prism sparkled and glittered, casting rainbow hues around the room. Tonight they would be even more dazzling.
Satisfied at the progress, Andre passed through the Great Hall to the Grand Staircase that led into it. He ignored the gilded, ornate railing and took the wide marble stairs to the second floor of the palace two at a time, his feet making no sound on the crimson carpet runner. Damon, Andre’s personal bodyguard on duty today, followed him, scrambling to keep up.
His father had chosen his bodyguards when he was the Crown Prince. But once he ascended the throne he’d recruited his cousin Zax to head up the security force protecting him and had handpicked his bodyguards himself, men from his own unit in the Zakharian National Forces, men he’d trained with. Men he could trust with his life, who were also discreet.
Captains Damon Kostya and Lukas Branko were two of those men detached from the military to serve in the contingent guarding him. Damon was on duty today and Lukas would be on duty tonight during the reception. They were nearly fanatical in their devotion to him, to keeping him alive, sworn to protect him at all costs. As were all the men on his bodyguard detail. And they’d done a damned fine job so far through two assassination attempts in the past three years.
Normally Andre was considerate of his bodyguards, careful to make no sudden, unexpected moves that would take whomever was on duty by surprise. It wasn’t his habit to make things more difficult for the men guarding him. But not today. He burst through the door to his suite of rooms, then turned abruptly. “Wait outside, Damon.”