CHAPTER TWO
MATEO STARED OUT at the idyllic view of his island home—sparkling sea, pure white beach, and the lovely, landscaped gardens of the royal palace stretching down to the sand, the flowers as bright as jewels amidst all the verdant green. A paradise, which he now knew was rotting at its core.
Everything was worse, far worse, than he’d thought. As soon as he’d arrived in Kallyria, he’d had briefings from all of his cabinet ministers, only to discover that Leo had been running the country—his country—into the ground. The economy, the foreign policy, even the domestic affairs that should have ticked over fairly smoothly had suffered under his brother’s wildly unstable hand, with decisions being made recklessly, others carelessly reversed, world leaders insulted...the list went on and on, as his brother pursued pleasure and took an interest in affairs only when it suited him.
Mateo didn’t know whether to be furious or insulted that no one had informed him what was happening, and had been going on for years. As it was, all he felt was guilt. He should have known. He should have been here.
But then, no one had expected him to be. Certainly no one had ever asked. He turned from the window to glance down at the desk in the palace’s study, a room that still reminded him of his father, with its wood-panelled walls and faint, lingering smell of cigar smoke—unless he was imagining that? His father had been gone for six years. Yet the room bore far more of an imprint of him than of Leo, who had, Mateo had discovered, spent more time on his yacht or in Monte Carlo than here, managing the affairs of his country.
Mateo’s narrowed gazed scanned the list his mother had written out in her copperplate handwriting—the list of prospective brides. His mouth twisted in distaste at the mercenary nature of the venture; it seemed incredible to him that in this day and age, in a country that professed to be both progressive and enlig
htened, he was meant to marry a woman he didn’t even know.
‘Of course, you will get to know her, in time,’ Agathe had assured him that morning, a tentative smile curving her mouth, lines of tension bracketing her eyes.
‘And then impregnate her as quickly as possible?’ Mateo queried sardonically. ‘That’s not a recipe for disaster.’
‘Arranged marriages can be successful,’ his mother stated with quiet dignity. She should know; her own marriage had been arranged, and she’d striven tirelessly to make it work. Mateo knew his father had been a proud and sometimes difficult man; he’d had a great capacity for love and generosity, but also for anger and scorn. Mateo loved his mother; he’d admired his father. But he didn’t want to emulate their marriage.
‘I know they can, Mitera,’ he said with a conciliatory smile, as he raked his hand through his hair. He’d arrived on Kallyria at ten o’clock last night, and only snatched an hour or two of sleep as he’d gone through all the paperwork his brother had left behind, and attended one debriefing meeting after another.
‘Is it love you’re looking for?’ Agathe asked tentatively. ‘Because love can grow, Mateo...’
‘I don’t want love.’ He spoke the word with a sneer, because he had to. How else was he meant to think of it? ‘I’ve already been in love, and I have no desire to be so again.’
‘You mean Cressida.’ Mateo didn’t bother to reply. Of course he meant Cressida. ‘That was a long time ago, Mateo.’
‘I know.’ He tried not to speak sharply, but he never talked about Cress. Ever. He tried not even to think about her, about the grief and guilt he still felt, like bullets embedded under his skin, a knife sticking out of his back that he couldn’t twist around enough to pull out. If he didn’t think about it, he didn’t feel it, and that was his preferred way of managing the pain.
Agathe was silent for a moment, her hands folded in her lap, her head tilted to one side as she pinned Mateo in place with her perceptive gaze. ‘Considering your aversion to that happy state, then, I would think an arranged marriage would suit you.’
Mateo knew she was right, and yet he still resisted the unpalatable notion. ‘I want an agreement, not an arrangement,’ he said after a moment. ‘If I’m going to have my wife rule alongside me, bear and raise my children, be my partner in every way possible... I don’t want to trust that role to a stranger who looks good on paper. That seems like the epitome of foolishness.’
‘The women on this list have been vetted by several cabinet ministers,’ Agathe countered. ‘Everything about them is suitable. There is no reason to think they wouldn’t be trustworthy, dutiful, admirable in every way.’
‘And willing?’ Mateo said with a curl of his lip. Agathe shook her head slowly.
‘Why is that wrong?’
Mateo didn’t answer, because he wasn’t sure he could explain it even to himself. All he knew was, after a lifetime of being told he would never be king, he didn’t want a woman to marry him only because he finally was. But that felt too complicated and emotional to explain to his mother, and so he straightened his shoulders and reached for the piece of paper with its damned list.
‘I’ll look it over.’
Several hours later he was no closer to coming to a decision regarding any of the oh-so suitable candidates. He’d searched for information about them online, scanned their social media profiles, and found them all as duly admirable as his mother had insisted. One of his advisors had cautiously told him that initial overtures had been made, and at least four of the women had expressed their interest, despite knowing nothing about him. Having never spoken to him. Knowing only about his wealth and title, his power and prestige. Why did that bother him so much? Why did he care?
The whole point was, he didn’t want to care. He wouldn’t care. Yet he still hated the thought of it all.
His mobile buzzed and Mateo slid it out of his pocket. In the eighteen hours since he’d arrived on Kallyria he hadn’t spoken to anyone from his former life, but now he saw with a ripple of undeniable pleasure that the call was from Rachel.
He swiped to take it. ‘Yes?’
‘Mateo?’ She sounded uncertain.
‘Yes, it’s me.’
‘You sounded so different there, for a second,’ Rachel told him with an uncertain laugh. ‘Like some... I don’t know, some really important person.’
Mateo’s lips twisted wryly. That was just what he’d become. Of course, he’d been important in his own way before returning to Kallyria; he held a fellow’s chair at one of the world’s most prestigious universities, and he’d started his own tech company as a side interest, and made millions in the process. Last year he’d been named one of Britain’s most eligible bachelors by some ridiculous tabloid. But he hadn’t been king.