Disclaimer: E! owns the Royals. I don't own them.
To Superdani4Ever: Wait for it- twists and turns are everywhere. I don't think Robert's allowed to do that. To be frank I'm amazed Cyrus is now classified as a former king. The British monarchs in real life- just like the Greeks used to- take constitutional oaths during their coronations, swearing that their entire lives 'whether it be long or short, shall be devoted' to their people's service. So Robert can't abdicate now that he's had the coronation. Edward VIII- Queen Elizabeth's uncle who stepped down for Wallis Simpson- didn't have a coronation before he left, so he was able to leave fairly easily. But with Liam, Eleanor, Helena and Cyrus under suspect, there's really no one else.
There is the Heat of Love, the Pulsing Rush of Longing, the Lover's Whisper, irresistible- Magic to make the Sanest Man go Mad
A few years back…
Robert had been in a foul mood.
It was soon after his coronation… Everything he had ever been taught to want, everything he had been taught to expect, everything he had been trained to be…
And he hated it. Why did he hate it?
Robert sighed.
Because he would much rather have his family around him? Like it was a perfect circle? Robert could have snorted. Perfect? His family was far from perfect. As a matter of fact, his own father's death and his supposed one just revealed it was all rot to the core.
And gold. Liam had changed. He was no longer the careless, irresponsible party boy and admittedly Robert admired him for standing up to him like that. Len had changed as well. A smile touched his lips at the thought of his little sister. He felt most akin to her. Not because she was wild outwardly, but because she, unlike him, could afford to rebel whereas he secretly hated it.
Robert sighed. But even she had Jasper now. And his mother was busy with one of her numerous lovers, no doubt.
Robert was in disguise. Always adept at avoiding the paparazzi the way Liam and Eleanor never were, even as king that hadn't changed. He smirked secretly. He didn't know what he was looking for but now…
It was a festival of some sort. Robert frowned. No one had to pay or show ID to enter, but people looked like they were having a grand time. Country music was playing, kids were running around laughing and some drunks were uproariously bellowing over some joke. He smiled inwardly at that. He was always happy to hear them. Maybe because their lives were so different…
Robert wandered in.
Nobody noticed the king of England and that was the way he preferred it. He smiled, watching a mother order her children off the carousel, or some teens making out behind a lamppost. But a rush of movement caught his eye.
They were by the sea side, Robert knew this. The royal family was taking a holiday there- covertly of course- because everyone needed to cool off. He saw several young kids running around. At first he thought they were just going for another round of footie, or maybe to see some magician. But one of the boys clutched a wilted posy in his hands. He raised an eyebrow. What was that for?
They were all boys. And they looked eager for something.
Robert followed their line of sight and saw a bunch of people dancing. Oh- there was a Maypole in the distance. It was the Spring Festival. But wait- there was a group of dancers closer to them, and that was what the boys were eying. Or rather…
One of them spun gracefully into the circle of dancers. And if Robert had been holding anything he would have dropped it instantly. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, so breath-takingly beautiful the whole atmosphere suddenly seemed completely airless.
The girl's long black hair, thick and gently waving, cascaded down her back like a waterfall, it had golden and silvery lights that shot through it because it captured the light and reflected it back. Her skin glowed, luminous and flawless in a way that shamed the pearls in the Crown Jewels. It was creamy tan compared to many fair-skinned people, but rather fair as well compared to tanned ones. The girl's figure graceful and willowy but voluptuous, twirled gracefully in a white dress like the other girls dancing. Robert didn't breathe. He didn't look at them, didn't want to look at them, he felt like the whole world would come crashing down and break if he took his eyes off her, that some disaster would happen because she was the most wonderful thing and the only truly good thing in this rotten world…
He could feel his own heart beating like a drum, or thunder, the rush of his hot blood coming and flooding his entire body from head to toe. He forgot how to move, rooted to the ground, spellbound and hypnotised, unable to breathe or remember that there was another world, what and who he was, his family and their problems and his own…
The heat and the thundering of his heart came to a crashing climax as the dance did. The dancer's face showed: a perfect, delicate heart-shape with a dainty retroussé nose, delicately pointed, high, very fine cheekbones and a lush rosebud mouth that was just too lush, perfect and kissable to ignore and almond eyes. They were large, liquid emerald. Robert opened his mouth but no sound came out. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, even as the others also stared and gawked at this girl.
The dance finished. Robert's heart was still pounding like crazy but he could breathe a little. He didn't take his eyes off the girl, because he was afraid that if he would she would vanish. She was the one pure, good thing in his rotten world. He had fallen in a pit, and there she was. She promised escape, and Robert would take it…
As cliché and corny as this sounded, this was what Robert felt. The girl in the white dress- they were all in white dresses but only one dominated for them all- smiled and bent down to accept the posy. Robert knew he had to meet her, however he did it, he had to.
He needed to speak to her. He didn't even stop to think.
It appeared they were raising money for charity as an announcer proclaimed. He'd give her millions more if he could meet with her.
Then there was a shout and the spell was seemingly broken.
Something was on fire. A little boy screamed and Robert ran forwards with the crowd, trying to find the source-
Except she got there before anyone else. The stall was right at the edge of the dock and she leapt forwards, not daring to hesitate, and jumped after the boy- who after being cornered by the flames, was pushed back into the sea.
By this time, some people had gotten fire extinguishers. Robert was one of them, but he saw the water broke and the little boy emerge with the girl who looked like some kind of goddess or siren. She placed him on the dock, checked his pulse and in a low voice began to speak to everyone else involved. She opened his mouth, and prepared to do CPR.
Only she never even managed to do mouth-to-mouth. The boy gasped, coughing out water, while she gently stroked his back, and murmured words of comfort to him.
He stared wide-eyed and dazzled. She gave him a smile. The most heart-breaking, breath-taking smile Robert had ever seen. And that was it. He knew one way or another, he was going to make her his.
She'd manage to avoid attention and disappeared before anyone else could speak to her. He was desperate. He needed to speak to her, to meet her- anything.
He was the bloody king of England! But he didn't give a damn, not at the moment!
He didn't notice where he was going until he nearly bumped into her. "I am so sorry, I-" the girl's musical voice began.
"It's fine, I-" he froze dead. It was her.
The girl smiled hesitantly at him.
Robert managed a smile. He was wearing a baseball cap, he didn't look his best, he knew that.
"My sincerest apologies," the girl said formally, making his furrow his brow. She stepped aside, the same time he did- right in front of her.
Confused- and amused- she tried to sidestep the same time he did to allow her room.
He chuckled. She laughed softly. He loved that sound.
Then she froze. Her eyes widened.
"What's wrong?" Robert wanted to ask her, but she had gone as pale as snow.
Then he saw them: paparazzi. Damn.
Robert nearly cursed under his breath. They always managed to ruin everything! At first he thought they must have realised he was among the crowd but he noticed she looked almost… Terrified.
Her. They were after her.
Robert didn't stop to think why. He whispered to here: "This way!"
She looked at him, her emerald eyes wide. He gestured to his head, glancing urgently at the paparazzi behind him. In normal circumstances she would be suspicious, but they were getting closer…
When they were at a dark, secluded alleyway, they managed to let out a breath.
Robert took off his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his hair on instinct.
She was staring back, anticipating they would chase after them, before she turned back… And saw who he was.
Robert stopped dead when he saw her eyes widen in shock. This was the last thing he wanted her to know right now.
Normally he wouldn't have had a problem with it; like Liam always said, it was a perk to be royalty which meant the girls were naturally all over you. But now, Robert found he really wished he didn't have the crown at that moment.
But to his surprise, the girl dropped an elegant curtsy and intoned: "Your Majesty." Quite formally, as if she had been raised among the aristocracy.
Robert blinked.
She straightened. But then looked uneasy.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "Though… I think they were after the scene of the accident, not either of us." She blushed a lovely colour, teeth gently nipping at her lower lip nervously.
Robert tried not to ogle at the sight. "Well… I'm glad we got away in time." He stated. She smiled involuntarily it seemed, because she seemed to have caught on what she was doing and put on a straight, serious face instead.
Robert struggled not to smirk. He thought he didn't succeed as much because her cheeks flushed with colour slightly again.
"I'm sorry to bring you into so much trouble," she said dryly and coolly, regaining some of her poise. Robert was secretly impressed.
"It wasn't any trouble," he admitted. "I was in a bad mood and I fancied a walk." He stated.
"To a Spring Festival which caught fire," she said dryly. "And a soaking wet girl whom you had to rescue from the paps. Yes, that sounds like a good walk."
Robert laughed. He actually found himself laughing genuinely it seemed, not politely.
"And a wonderful way to clear your mood," she continued wryly. "Nearly getting stampeded by paparazzi. Not something you have to go through every day," she said sarcastically.
He snorted. "No. In fact, it's quite unusual."
"I guess you could say that," she said, eyes dancing and sparkling. He found himself totally captivated by the sight.
He realised she was still soaking wet. Her dress clung to every curve and it was white which showed her skin and left practically little or nothing to the imagination. Her hair flowed loose and her massive emerald eyes were the most beautiful things, more so than his mother's jewellery collection and the Crown Jewels kept in the Tower of London.
Suddenly realising their state, she flushed. Robert tried not to stare. "Well," she said quietly. She looked down and cleared her throat, before meeting his eyes. "Thank you… Your majesty."
"The pleasure was all mine," he said quietly. And for once, he meant it.
He couldn't take his eyes off her… Or his mind.
Or his heart.
He insisted on escorting her back. She blushed deeply and said that surely a king had better things to do, but Robert insisted.
When they reached the place where she was staying Robert quizzically said that the place was a modest beach rental- a cabin.
"So you don't live here?" He asked.
"Well, actually, I live overseas," she admitted, and his heart sank. "But I study in London." It jolted and soared.
"Anywhere where I know?" He asked. "Is it close to where I live?" He asked dryly.
She actually laughed. Robert swore he could die hearing it and be happy.
Robert would never forget that day. He knew it even then.
"What's your name?" He asked. Her laughter faded, and for a moment she looked down, as if she was… Hiding something.
Robert wasn't fooled. He saw the way she ran from those paps. She thought they were after her.
He mentally ran a list through his head: celebrities? Pop stars? Movie stars? He didn't think so. He would have seen her on television and she certainly would have acted differently- perhaps she would have been more aggressive towards them, or been flashier in her clothing choice- or more conspicuous in the way she tried to hide herself.
So that left… Aristocracy? She did say that she was from another country. Why was she in England?
Her liquid emerald eyes, deeper than the ocean, met his. "Will I at least be able to see you again?" He asked, unable to help himself.
She gave a small smile.
He did see her again. At another low-key festivity there. He'd learnt her name: Aglaia.
And he would never forget.
Robert lay awake remembering all those memories, wondering just how much time he had to be a family with her and their children. Not long, he knew. Multiple pregnancies usually resulted in premature deliveries.
Her head was on his chest and they were holding each other close. Robert knew Aglaia had brought him out of a turbulent black hole of darkness, misery, rage and despair. The drama had not ended with his return and not even his marriage ended it either.
Despair, pain and fear filled him again. Would he be trapped on that island again? No, it was going to be worse, much worse.
No, he vowed. It would never happen.
And there was Leonidas. Robert scowled just thinking about that impudent, presumptuous bastard of a captain. Not even an idiot would mistake his motives. Aglaia, despite being months into her pregnancy and heavily grieving, was still the most beautiful woman. With three almost-ready-made heirs, the pressure to create more would not be so bad.
But he knew even before his marriage, people were cozening up to her. It made him sick and angry just thinking about it.
Aglaia heaved out a sigh that sounded like a stifled sob, and Robert looked down. She was still awake, just as he was.
He brought her closer and kissed her firmly. "I don't know when the children are due," she said numbly. "Or who did these things. All I know is that they're a target and we might not be able to see each other again in this world."
"Sshhh," He hushed her. "That's not true."
"What are the chances?" She looked up at him. Her green eyes no longer danced and shone. "What are the odds of us staying together? Monarchs above everybody else are expected to obey the laws. And I don't know… If I return to Greece with the children, I'm not sure what will happen."
Robert felt his arm tighten around her when he heard that. People were targeting them, they would be apart, the children were still unborn, and even born they would be too tiny to stand a chance. A pillow would easily smother them. He felt his rage rise.
"I'll find a way to keep us together," he vowed. "We'll stay together. And God help the scumbag who's actually enjoying all of this." His dark blue eyes flashed as he thought not only about his brothers-in-law's killers but Leonidas Dimitriou's smug face.
Robert rose early and left his wife still sleeping. He went to his study and got out a notepad and pen.
He began writing a list of names.
Alright, who was on the Greeks' list of suspects?
He already knew that his mother was. And Cyrus.
He wrote Cyrus' name down: Cyrus Henstridge.
Was Liam a suspect too? He shook his head. That's everyone.
But who were his suspects? Who would have the most to gain from the princes' deaths and his divorce?
He wrote the name: Leonidas Dimitriou.
And then not to forget, the whole reason for this in the first place: the Greeks' lack of royals remaining in the succession. Aglaia's great-uncle had been king before he, his wife, children, and grandchildren were all butchered. Everyone was killed during the Greeks' latest civil war. That ended when Aglaia's grandfather took the throne. But members of the Military Junta still remained- though some were in hiding…
As a matter of fact, one was.
Not far from Buckingham Palace, a man with a horribly scarred face and greying hair sat drinking Ouzo from a whisky glass.
"So they're dead."
"The blast killed several people, but their bodies were not discovered." The other man replied.
The first man scoffed. "And the queen? Will there really be a divorce?"
"It seems there is no other way to avoid it." The second man shrugged.
The first man downed the Ouzo in one gulp and poured himself another glass.
"I assume you will honour our agreement?" The second man boldly dared.
"I gave you my word, did I not? I want revenge, and you do too. And don't delude me with saying that King Simon and Robert was innocent and it was wrong for us to do it that way. No. Simon and Robert were the most dangerous ones. Why? Because the rest of them were so terribly, visibly flawed." He mused. "And these two seemed as close to perfect as they could be. That's what brought people towards them. That was what defined who were the monsters and who were the heroes. History is written by the victors. But also decided by the ones who observe them. Times change. Robert has to be removed. If he is removed, and so is Aglaia, one of their children- once born- will reign as king or queen in Greece, but with a regency. In Britain, Liam Henstridge would rule. And he's not his father or his brother. He has neither the brains nor the clear and level head for this. Robert is the most dangerous one. And Aglaia is the one I want."
"But what shall we do with Liam?" The second man- who had a British accent demanded. "He's useless and not as courageous, he's also quite rash and hot-headed. But he's still next in line if we remove the unborn triplets."
"Liam is not like his eldest brother or his father. It will be easy to turn people against him." The first man- who had a Greek accent- stated.
"What?" The second man demanded.
"Our sources inside the palace state that prior to the king's wedding and engagement Robert and Liam had been disagreeing. Their relationship- for once- had been strained. Aglaia merely mended the rift between the brothers- and the whole family. But remember, suspicions can easily be planted, can't they?"
Cyrus and Veruca returned from their honeymoon soon enough. The former king and his remarried wife the Duchess of Essex, both hiding behind a pair of oversized sunglasses as if that would make them less strange and appear more like the relatives, helpfully providing comfort and grieving alongside the rest of them.
"Have them thoroughly checked," King Konstantinos muttered quietly to the members of the Greek Intelligence Services- the NIS. "But discreetly."
"Yes, your majesty." The agents bowed and left. The king sighed. Grief was not kind.
Cyrus' daughters were not intelligent enough to not only have masterminded anything but even as accessories in this, they would have to be discounted. Robert certainly not. He would not have wanted to endanger or lose his wife in any way, and he had no reasons to get rid of Aglaia's brothers. Helena… What about her? King Konstantinos' brow furrowed as he thought about it. Helena was a fighter to the very bitter end. For what? To keep her title of course. Cyrus himself didn't try to strip her of it. He let her remain as his consort. But that fooled no one and they battled it hard-out within their palace walls. And he knew she wasn't happy about his daughter taking her place- or even the idea of getting old, but was that reason enough to kill? Helena's mother had been stripped of her title of Grand Duchess of Oxford (why did they give these titles so recklessly? He heard Cyrus made a prostitute a baroness) with no explanation whatsoever. And people did say…
So the former Grand Duchess was a suspect. Helena had had her affairs, what if she did not want to marry Simon? Konstantinos frowned as he pondered the possibilities. But what reason would the former Grand Duchess have to remove her grandson's wife and his three unborn children from their line of succession?
Konstantinos closed his eyes.
Lines of grief were etched on his face along with age. Suddenly he felt old. He remembered his father had buried his three younger siblings while Konstantinos was the only one who survived. Unlike Helena he did not wish to hide his age….
But, wait. The civil war… Konstantinos froze. Of course, an heir apparent was the most vulnerable when he or she was young and helpless. The spares too. If Aglaia came back to Greece, and something were to happen to her that would leave her triplets- currently unborn as first, second and third in line. If something happened to her while she was pregnant…
Could this be a former Military Junta plot? The people who killed his own family during the civil war, possibly associating with the Henstridges' numerous enemies?
Yes, he thought. I think it is.
Anastasia watched her husband. Both were dressed in deepest black.
"How is she?" He asked without turning towards her, as if from a great distance.
"She needs to eat more, she's barely eaten since…" Anastasia froze and pressed her lips tightly together, because she almost wailed out loud. She was a queen, she could not do such things.
"And…" Konstantinos hesitated. He desperately wanted to know if they had managed to identify their sons' bodies, but he could not make himself say this, least of all to his grieving wife.
Anastasia bit her lip to keep from crying out, but she sank to the ground. Instantly, her husband was by her side, embracing her tightly.
There was no way to make things better. Only to salvage what they had left.
Liam walked through the halls of the palace. Well, the Henstridges were long overdue for some peace, but the drama clearly hadn't ended.
Alright, so what could he do?
Firstly, based on what little they'd read up on the Greek princes… There wasn't much he could do.
The old Military Junta, the many Ted Pryces and Jeffrey Stewarts… Liam didn't know how and where to begin.
He needed to see someone.
In the meantime, the security cameras were shut down, one by one while James Hill and Jasper Frost were speaking to Their Majesties the king of Britain and the king and queen of Greece. Queen Helena was conspicuously absent.
Leonidas Dimitriou was- to Robert's barely suppressed rage- with the king and queen.
And Len was absent too.
Liam was striding down the corridors when they were all shut down.
"Good evening." A voice said, and he whirled only to come face to face with…
Ted Pryce. His father's killer.
"You," he breathed. "But this isn't possible… I saw you. You were killed."
"You never saw a body," Pryce retorted. "You never pulled the trigger."
"What are you doing here?" Liam found himself asking. "How did you get out alive?"
"I had help." Pryce said. Liam swallowed. "Did you…"
"Someone else had a grudge against the Greek royals, stemming back to the days of the civil war," Ted replied.
"You mean the Military Junta," Liam breathed. "The members- they're still out there, aren't they? You had help from them? They committed genocide. This is a new low, Pryce, even from you."
"Easier said than done," Ted replied shortly. "The new king will be divorced. His queen will soon take the Greek throne, and soon after her infants are born, one of them will be king or queen."
"You're going to kill her too?" Liam had gone unnaturally white.
Ted did not answer. "You know Liam." He said, stepping to the side. "I may have underestimated you. I predicted that you wouldn't be a Robert. And maybe you weren't. But you'll certainly never be a Simon. Or a king, even if the three unborn royals are moved out of the way and packed off to Athens under the guise of a regent."
Liam went whiter still. "So you're going to kill their mother, Aglaia, and Robert? What about him? And me?"
"I don't need to kill you," Ted said unexpectedly. "You're already on the list of suspects. Not as high as your mother and uncle, but still. Haven't you realised all the security cameras are turned off where we are?" Liam's eyes widened as he listened to this. "And that while your brother is conversing with the Greek king and queen and with his soon-to-be ex-wife, your mother, uncle and sister are nowhere to be seen and you have conveniently managed to lose the sight of the Greek NIS agents trailing you."
Liam froze. They were trailing him. He felt… He didn't know he was on the list of suspects.
"Why?" He found himself saying, without even knowing what. "Why what?" Ted asked. "Why are you on the list of suspects? You're a Henstridge, Liam. Your name is now notorious."
Ted kicked aside a heavy curtain to reveal… Liam held his breath in case he threw up. A dead body. A Greek security agent.
Ted took out a walkie-talkie. "Cameras back." He announced. "Goodbye Liam."
"Wait- you can't just-" Liam shouted not really knowing what he was saying. But Ted smashed open a window with a mallet hidden behind the same curtain- apparently used as the murder weapon. Alarms started blaring and Pryce disappeared through a secret passageway.
Liam pounded the hidden door. "Pryce!" He hollered. "Open this door- open this door!" In one of his stupidest ideas- he would later recall- he took the same mallet and prepared to batter down the door, but security guards began to rush in and froze at the sight.
Jasper was there as well. His eyes were wide as he took in the sight in front of him.
"Sir," One of them said urgently. He tried to hold out his hand, attempting to placate Liam. "Sir- please. No guns- put the weapon down."
"I didn't do this," Liam spluttered. "I didn't- Jasper-" Jasper's horrified blue eyes met Liam's and Liam knew even if Jasper was on his side, there was no other way. Ted had been wearing gloves when he held that mallet. Liam was not.
In one seriously dumb move, he thought, but he had no choice- Liam leapt out of the window.
Security agents began shouting at each other and through their wrist-coms. "Secure the palace- Prince Liam is a suspect!"
"What?!" Robert stared incredulously at the security guards. Jasper was silent at the back.
"One of the Greek NIS agents was found dead in the hallway. The security cameras were switched off. He'd been battered to death with a mallet- the murder weapon was found- and Prince Liam was holding it."
Robert stared, in disbelief. He was unable to speak.
"Where is he?" Robert swallowed. "Where is my brother?" He demanded. He wanted to talk to Liam by himself. To see if it was all true.
He wouldn't accept it without seeing Liam.
"Prince Liam jumped out of the window, sir." Another security guard did not meet his eyes. "It was a good thing it was on the ground level, sir."
Robert- his mouth agape and horrified- was stunned beyond comprehension. Liam had… Killed someone? This was not like his younger brother.
But why? Why an NIS agent? Because they were tailing him, a voice inside him said. They were tailing him because he was a suspect in the bombings and the princes' assassinations. And the rest of his family.
Robert knew about that. He knew about his mother and mother-in-law's confrontation in which Anastasia accused Helena of numerous murders- involving an ex-girlfriend of his father's apparently and a maid's. And something about Ted Pryce's wife.
But Liam couldn't have done that. Liam couldn't have murdered someone. Robert refused to believe it and yet…
The Liam I know would never do such a thing, he swore to himself.
But a voice asked, Is he the Liam you know?
The Liam he remembered was rash, and maybe he still was, but he was playful. The Liam he came back to… Was a very different person. Grim and quiet was the least of things.
No, Robert thought. But that niggling voice asked him, since when did Liam fight you for a girlfriend? He knew Liam had done a lot more than kiss Kathryn.
And he had seen the way Liam looked at Aglaia. His currently single brother and his wife. Liam seemed calmer, more at peace and definitely happier when they were speaking together. But he couldn't have… Could he?
Robert looked at Jasper. "Did you see this?" He asked him.
Jasper swallowed. "I didn't see the murder, your majesty."
"But you saw Liam with the weapon in his hands," Robert pressed, his dark blue eyes wide, imploring, his heart pounding. He needed to know the truth of this. He would delve deep for the truth.
He had to. He needed to.
Jasper finally managed to look at him. Robert knew Jasper and Liam were close. He wanted to get Jasper's viewpoint on this. "I saw him." He admitted.
Robert let out a shaky breath. "Find him." He ordered. "Don't hurt him- don't harm him or scare him off- but find him!"
Robert had to confess what he had found to his wife.
"WHAT?!" Needless to say, she was in shock.
"Liam was found in a corridor in the palace, with the security cameras shut down and a weapon in his hands. A weapon that was used to batter an NIS agent to death a few minutes ago, based on what the autopsy said." Robert said quietly.
Aglaia sat up in bed. "I don't believe it," she said. "I don't believe Liam did that."
Robert's eyes darkened. "I know you wouldn't." He said, dangerously.
He turned around and left.
"Where are you going?" His bewildered wife asked after him. Robert only closed the door.
Temper mounting dangerously, Robert strode through the palace hallway. Liam did it, did he? He wasn't sure, but she clearly didn't believe he did it.
Any more than she would believe that Leonidas Dimitriou had other motives apart from stupid security.
Temper mounting like a wave now, Robert cursed and swore inwardly.
She was one of the most intelligent and savvy people he had ever met. And she was also one of the most innocent and hopelessly naïve. Aglaia wouldn't know anyone's infatuation if it threw itself on the floor and loudly proclaimed its love for her.
And he could see it in Liam's eyes- as well as that damned captain's. They were infatuated with her.
And she was about to divorce him, albeit against her will.
And Captain Leonidas Dimitriou would be waiting with open arms and a smug smile on his disgustingly handsome face.
Or Liam would…
Robert flung a door open. It bounced against the wall with a bang and he marched into the room.
He was practically boiling now.
Kathryn he could get over, but Aglaia? She was the love of his life, the only one for him, his soulmate. The only good thing to come out in such terrible, dark times.
Insides practically screaming with fury, the King of the United Kingdom headed for his mother's rooms.
"I just… I just want to see her," Len was saying, helplessly.
"I know, dear." Her mother muttered. "But her harridan of a mother won't let any of us get ten yards near Aglaia, or her unborn children."
"But Mum," Len protested. "Why?"
Helena shook her head and drank her tea. Robert came in the room.
They both stood, putting down their teacups.
"Darling," his mother began urgently. "Where were you?" He interrupted.
They looked quizzically at him.
"What do you mean?" Helena was confused. "We were right here all along."
"I mean when it happened." Robert stressed, gritting his teeth.
"When what happened?" Len asked, confused as her mother.
Robert breathed deeply and tried to calm himself. He crossed the room.
"A Greek NIS agent's body was found in one of the corridors. The security cameras were all switched off. He had been battered to death with a mallet of some kind. There was an alert of some kind and when security rushed towards the corridor…" He went very still.
Slowly, he turned towards his mother and sister. He felt himself go cold all over as he spoke to them:
"They found Liam holding the murder weapon with the man's blood." Robert finished, his voice and expression deadened.
The two had frozen.
"What?" That was Eleanor.
Robert heaved out a breath and sat on the couch. He covered his face with his hands.
"They think Liam killed him." He said, slowly bringing his face up. "He dropped the weapon. It was definitely used to kill the man. Investigation showed that. And it only had Liam's fingerprints."
"WHAT?!" That was both of them. "No- no way, Liam couldn't have done that-" Eleanor began denying fervently. No, Liam could never have-
"I know that!" Robert nearly shouted. "But he's ran off and nobody can find him! And now he's much higher on the list of suspects on who planted that bomb that killed Alexios and Dimitri." He looked at them. "I've given orders not to harm or scare him off, and I expect them to be followed! But I want to know the truth of this, we all do, but we can't get it out without Liam."
"Liam isn't a murderer!" Eleanor exclaimed.
"I know that!" Robert countered. "But he was a witness. And maybe he can tell us who."
Helena shook her head, aghast. How could things have gone this badly?
"We just need Liam's word on what happened and who did it," Robert said, desperately, all thoughts about Liam and Leonidas Dimitriou harbouring illicit infatuations towards his wife, completely forgotten. Liam was his brother. And he sure damned well would do anything keep him safe. "That was we can counter the evidence of him doing anything."
"But we can't find him," Eleanor said desperately. Robert let out a shaky breath.
"We can try."
Jasper rushed secretly underground. He had to find Liam. He knew he was innocent, even if he didn't see the look on his face.
Liam couldn't kill Ted Pryce in that car. He didn't pull the trigger. How could he possibly bludgeon a person he didn't know to death, even if it was an NIS agent tracking him under suspicion of the princes' murders?
There was someone who could help.
Unfortunately all security cameras were switched off where Liam had went. The Greeks believed that this was because Liam had ordered someone to switch them off wherever he went, but Jasper knew that Liam didn't have the authority to do that: only Robert did and he was busy, his mind occupied with trying to convince the Greek king and queen to let him keep his wife for as long as he could.
And Liam was admittedly, rash and hot-headed. He had been trying to batter down a secret door for the security in the palace with that mallet. Why? If someone had gotten through just at the very last minute…
Jasper stared at that same secret passageway that Liam had been trying to get through. Someone had come through there.
The murderer. Possibly the one who had been responsible for the blast that killed the Greek princes as well as injuring several civilians, some critically.
He- or she- had framed Liam for murder.
Why? Why Liam?
Jasper's eyes widened as he realised what this meant.
With Robert's unborn triplets removed from the British line of succession because their mother was now first-in-line for the Greek one that left Liam back to being first for the former. And after Liam came Len. Len who was also nowhere to be seen during the murder…
Jasper's eyes widened further. Damn. Someone was trying to remove the twins by discrediting them so they wouldn't be able to inherit the throne.
Jasper's jaw dropped. Was it Cyrus?
Cyrus had killed before. Jasper knew that Cyrus had been responsible for the death of Jeffrey Stewart by poisoning, but even though he publicly humiliated Queen Helena and the twins by revealing her affairs and claiming that the twins weren't King Simon's, would he actually be able to frame them for murder?
Okay, leaving that aside, he decided to look at another angle.
Aglaia wouldn't have had to be first in line if there hadn't been a civil war, that's what Len said. A civil war in which the royal family had been explicitly targeted along with others including ethnic Slavs and political opponents.
They had nearly been decimated.
Jasper closed his eyes. He needed to think. He needed expert skills…
His eyes widened as he realised just who he could go to.
"Yes? I'm coming," Willow called out.
She adjusted her dressing gown.
"Hi," Jasper said. "Jasper Frost. I'm with the royal security detail. I really need your help." He put on his best pleading face.
"Okay, so um, the Greek Military Junta… Most of them are either in prison, or have since been released." Willow looked at her computer screen. "A number of them have died. Some are really old now."
"So the ones who have been released..." Jasper pressed.
"Well they're not allowed out of the country, they're being kept under strict monitoring and seclusion." Willow stated. "But not all of them went to prison?"
"No," Willow replied. "Some have escaped. Like the Nazis, I guess, except I don't think many of them dared to flee to South America. The Greek government and the United Nations were made aware of who went where coming from Greece and bordering countries, like Macedonia have strict border security."
Jasper's brow furrowed. "But it's still possible," he began sceptically.
"It's still possible," Willow agreed. "And some of them could be in the UK. London itself has a Greek community. They fled during the war."
Jasper straightened. "So… We need to, um, match faces, find an address-"
Willow nodded. "On it." Just then the door knocked.
Jasper's hand instantly went to his gun, but slowly, he edged closer to the door. After peering through the eye-hole, his eyes widened and he threw it open.
It was Liam. He was breathing hard and leaning against the door.
And it wasn't just him. Prince Dimitri of Greece looked at Jasper with a grim smile.
"Looking for this?" He asked.
"How the hell did you manage to evade security services?" Jasper asked incredulously. He was targeting his question to both princes.
Dimitri gave a grim smirk. "I was a high-profile member of the NIS for quite some time," he stated. "I still affiliate myself with them. Just as Alexios is still a member of the Greek Special Operations division."
"So you're telling me he survived too?" Jasper demanded. Dimitri scoffed. "Of course. He was the one who spotted the explosive."
He remembered the moment of explosion. "We knew someone was onto us for quite some time. The fact is, that the former Military Junta didn't dare attempt to assassinate any of us for a long time, and normally they still wouldn't have, but I think now that we associate with the Henstridges and our sister has married one of them, that they've been offered an opportunity- an opportunity they would gladly take and strike with."
Everyone- from Jasper to Willow who was absorbing all this in shock- to Liam who was dabbing a cloth to stem his bleeding nose- was silent as they listened to Prince Dimitri.
"I have to admit, Prince Liam was on our list of suspects when we heard of an attempt to kill us both," Dimitri stated. "We came to England to make sure our sister and her unborn children were alright. So we quickly came from Greece, much sooner than we intended and met with her. We didn't want to scare or stress her out at such a time, but we did warn her of potential enemies- a number of them are," he looked at Liam. "Admittedly, the members of the family she's married into. But Liam couldn't have done this. Liam couldn't have planted a bomb of such high-tech into our car which is highly packed with security. For starters, he's never entered into the military. I don't know why you wear a dress uniform if you haven't royal or otherwise though," Dimitri said coolly. It was clear he still disdained, or at the very least disliked Liam. "But he's certainly not a weapons' expert either. And he hasn't got enough money, loaded as he is, generously provided by his elder brother, to pay anyone to set up an explosive and infiltrate our car, which would have been very difficult, if not impossible.
"So even though we had to play dead to catch whoever was responsible before they tried to kill our precious sister, we still kept tabs of things going on in the palace. What you didn't know was that right before our sister's wedding- because none of us trust any of you except for Robert- we had the palace bugged. It was cleverly disguised and no one knew, not even the agents we made certain would look the other way, despite our apparent lack of cooperation. We saw what happened." Everyone looked shocked.
"It wasn't Liam who killed the NIS agent. It was Ted Pryce."
There was a horrified, stunned silence. "Ted Pryce is dead." Jasper said.
"Did you ever find a body?" Dimitri raised an eyebrow. "What is it with you people? You claim that someone's dead before you even see the proof- Robert, Ted Pryce, Alexios and I… Really? How can a security guard not know if someone's dead or alive?" Jasper's lips tightened in embarrassment at the prince's tone.
"All we have to do is find out exactly who else is involved and stop them before they try anything else."
Jasper shook his head, trying to get his thoughts under control. "Where is Crown Prince Alexios?" He asked.
"In the palace," Dimitri answered smoothly. "Lying in wait for the bastards who are going to try to kill our sister. We'll kill them first, whoever they are. We'll be damned if we don't."
"You might be helpful enough to let a hint out to your grieving sister and your parents that you're still alive," Jasper spoke.
Dimitri was silent for a while. "I wouldn't rather do anything more," he said quietly. "But we don't know how clever all of them is. And we don't want to lose now, not when we've got everything to lose." He gave a subtle, but strong glare at Liam. Hot-headed rash Liam, who admittedly, did lose control.
Robert stood silently as it all went by.
He wasn't about to sit there and do nothing either.
Funny enough, he had come to the same conclusions as Jasper Frost when hearing that Liam had been trying to batter down a secret door with that mallet.
Liam could be rash, he knew that.
And now he'd been discredited. And Eleanor and his mother was under suspect.
That left him alone out of all the Henstridges who was good enough in people's eyes to reign as king.
The palace was keeping a tight rein over all of this, confidentiality reports everywhere. MI5, MI6, Scotland Yard and the NIS collaborative agents were working overtime.
But he knew that while the Greek royals hadn't had an assassination attempt in years and were far less likely, the frank, brutal truth was that his family, the Henstridges, now had a lot of enemies. Which meant that these people would have the guts to possibly collaborate and attack while the princes were in London. His wife was vulnerable in her pregnant state, they believed. It would be easy to get rid of her once the triplets were born, and the security dropped and they went on their way to Athens.
Robert stared at the bottle of Malvasia or 'Malmsey' Wine sitting on the table- Aglaia's family brought it for the wedding. A bitter smirk twisted his lips. That wine was the wine of class, status and luxury in Medieval England. It came from Greece. After betraying his eldest brother Edward IV, George Duke of Clarence was drowned in a barrel of Malmsey Wine- his own choice of death. Shakespeare said that Richard III was supposedly responsible for this brother's death as well as the deaths of his two nephews, the Princes in the Tower. Yes, Robert did consider Cyrus but he didn't seem like he had that much guts. Cyrus was capable of it, but concocting such a brilliant scheme? No, his style was poison and dump the body in the Thames, not framing someone so elaborately and meticulously to remove them from the line of succession. Not even Veruca- as little as he knew her- could have been responsible for that.
This reeks of Ted Pryce, he thought. But Pryce was dead, surely. Were there more like him? Robert grimaced. He needed to get back to Aglaia, to be with her or check on her at the very least.
But wait. He froze. There was a sizeable Greek community in London- and England in general. He knew some had fled during the latest Greek civil war that wiped out most of Aglaia's family and saw them targeted. What if, like the Nazis, among the refugees, were the criminals themselves.
But what was he going to do? He scowled. He knew this because he and Aglaia had met them. But what if they had come under a false identity- which they likely did to avoid prosecution. He could match faces but there must have been thousands.
Still, he looked grim. He could start.
To bring those bastards that killed his wife's brothers, tried to get them to divorce and framed his own brother was a pleasure indeed.