Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets) (23 page)

I paused, unsure how much she knew about Colton’s investigation and how it led him to me. So I simplified, “My family and I separated during the attack on Sal de Mar. Your son helped me escape, and offered a place to stay until arrangements can be made to send me home to Bolien. It is my wish to return there without delay.”

“We are in the process of discovering her family's whereabouts before she can return home.”

“When was this decided?” My eyes narrowed at the man sitting lazily beside me. Every line of his lean body was relaxed. I thought briefly of poking him but resisted the urge.

As for my own posture, I sat primly on the edge of the couch, my ankles crossed. Next to Queen Cassandra’s glorious blue gown, I felt a hobo in my ragged trousers and shirt. My muscles protested the stiffness of my posture but I was determined to sit upright. One didn’t slouch in the presence of one’s queen.

“When you agreed to come here.” A corner of Colton’s mouth turned upwards as he watched me struggle to control my temper. He knew I wouldn’t dare cause a scene in front of his mother.

My voice lowered. “I suppose this is another thing we will discuss later.”

At normal volume, he replied, “We can discuss it now. My mother may have valuable insight into the problem regarding your father.” His next comment was addressed to his mother. “Her father is most likely dead. Tell her how foolish it is to leave for Sal de Mar when there is nothing there for her.”

“There is no reason to be nasty.” I answered before Queen Cassandra could even open her mouth. Just because my father hadn’t met us in Lisbon did not make him dead.

“I am not being nasty.” He frowned at me. “If my mother had suggested you stay instead of me, would you have accepted?”

“Of course not. I want to return home.” Or find the location on the map. The details of my father’s work tantalized me. If this map held the answers, I would find them.

“What we want is not always good for us.”

“And staying here is good for me?” I snorted. Then remembered I was arguing with the crown prince in front of the reigning queen. Not exactly the best first impression to leave. “I apologize, Your Majesty, for my lack of manners. I am tired from our journey.”

Before his mother could do anything other than nod, Colton interjected, “And you do not wish to see her hungry.”

On the verge of swatting him on the arm, my attention was completely claimed by the cart and the delicious smells coming from it as Meg returned with dinner. My mouth watered as the maid removed the covers and left the cart between Colton and I.

I barely glanced up once I picked up my fork. Roast pheasant, potatoes, corn and bread and the process of consuming as much as I could held my complete attention for the next ten minutes. I was aware Colton conversed with his mother, but it hardly concerned me. Let him make decisions. I would unwind them later.

When I came up for air, I found two pairs of blue eyes fastened on me. Too tired for embarrassment, I replaced my fork with a slight smile. “Please accept my apologies for being such a poor dinner guest. It has been a while since I’ve sat down to a meal.” I fixed Colton with a pointed stare.

“I begin to believe my son has treated you rather poorly.” It was Queen Cassandra’s turn to stare disapprovingly at Colton. “What have you done to the poor girl?”

“I shall leave Cadrian to supply the details. Father is expecting me.” He got to his feet. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed his hand.

He appeared as surprised as I. Blushing the color of a ripe apple, I attempted to drop his hand only Colton didn’t release me. “You will be perfectly safe with my mother. I will see you tomorrow at breakfast.” Bowing to kiss the back of my hand, he released me and turned to his mother.

Queen Cassandra waited while Colton kissed her cheek and showed himself out before prompting, ”He’s gone. Now I insist you tell me the full story.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” I parried. “My home was attacked, I found Prince Sorin while attempting to flee, and he decided to bring me home to await confirmation of my father's whereabouts.” I refused to entertain the idea they might be dead.

Her blue eyes, so like Colton’s, flickered over my face. “Do you continue your father’s work?”

“No.” Again I wondered what she knew about my father.

“Then you are very welcome.” A smile curved her lips. “I look forward to watching Sorin fall a peg or two.”

“If anyone needs it, he does.”

She laughed. “You are upset with him. Why?”

“Assorted reasons.” I waved a hand negligently in the air. I was unused to confiding in anyone, preferring to keep my own counsel.

“I only want one.” I had the feeling nobody denied Queen Cassandra when she smiled like that.

I cast around for the easiest explanation. “He lied about his name. I had no idea he was Prince Sorin until oh, half an hour ago.”

“Many girls have chased him for his title. He’s become very bitter about it.” She sighed. “What name did he give you?”

“Lucas Colton. That’s not even close to Sorin!” I folded
arms across my chest in annoyance.

Cassandra only patted my hand.

“I can see you’re tired. I’ll ring for someone to show you to your room. We’ll talk in the morning.” Cassandra crossed to the bell pull. Almost instantly, a maid appeared in the drawing room. “Cadrian, this is Maura. She will show you upstairs.”

We said our goodbyes and I followed Maura from the room. We backtracked down the hallway until we reached the staircase and I was led to a third floor suite of
rooms. A huge bed took up much of one wall and the matching furniture filled out the corners but nothing could disguise the pure vastness of the room. The room was nearly as big as our drawing room at home.

Another door led to a private sitting room but I was more interested in the bathroom though yet another door. A folding screen partitioned the toilet (Indoor plumbing! I nearly sobbed) from the tub and I washed my hands and face before returning to the bedroom, having heard what sounded like a door close a few minutes before. Maura, probably, with a fresh set of clothes.

Colton sat in an armchair before the fireplace. He watched the flames, but turned when he heard my footsteps. The firelight raised answering highlights in his blonde hair and beard, but they couldn’t disguise the weariness of his face.

“I thought you were meeting with your father.” I was tired of yelling at him, so I sat on the bed.

“I already have.” He regarded my stony face. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”

“You don’t mean it.” I rubbed my still damp face. “You lied to me. Again. I hardly know what is true and what you’ve made up to keep me off balance.”

“You cannot play the honesty card when you have been less than truthful yourself. If anything, we have evened the score.” His jaw firmed. “Most girls would be thrilled to learn they’d been with a prince for nearly a week.”

“Be still my heart. A real live prince! I cannot wait to tell all my friends!” I fluttered my eyelashes theatrically.

“If you even have any.”

“I have more than you.”

“Hardly.”

“I meant more real friends, and not people fawning over my title.” Sensing I’d hit a soft spot, I winced. Hadn’t his mother told me how sensitive he was about his title? “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You spoke the truth.” His tone was emotionless. “People can be disgustingly mendacious.”

Bringing us back to the subject of honesty. “Tell me your real name.”

After a moment during which he skewered me with his eyes, he answered. “My full name is Sorin Lucas Anthony Colton North, Crown Prince of Goran.”

“I suppose I should be comforted it was not a complete fabrication.” I shook my head at him. The topic of his status was still too new and sensitive to discuss. Maybe later, when I was calmer. “You are a prince. Why are you running about the countryside seeking answers about my father?” My mind began spinning feverishly. What was Colton’s interest in my father? Did he have something to do with the Norths?

“My father believes a prince should have firsthand knowledge of his country and his subjects.” His tone was lofty. I attempted to read his eyes, only he’d returned to gazing at the fire.

“But that’s not the reason you came to see my father.” I leaned against the bedpost. “Everyone keeps mentioning my father’s work. How does it affect the Norths?”

Without looking from the flames, he answered, “It appears I have underestimated you.”

“Which is not an answer.”

“I know.”

“Why can’t you tell me about my father?”

“Because I’d prefer you remain alive.”

“Every time you say that, I become that much more furious with you,” I said as sweetly as possible. “By the time we say goodbye, I will have most likely murdered you.”

“Then you cannot say goodbye.”

“Colton—“

“Sorin,” he corrected.

“If you do not tell me about my father, my head is going to explode.” Or I’d murder him. I hadn’t decided which it would be.

“All the more reason to tell you nothing.” Seeing my already furious face darken further, he added, “Cadrian, the case is still open. I can’t tell you anything until it’s all over, and even then, I am disinclined to reveal anything. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

I took a deep breath and told myself throwing a heavy object at his head would not help matters. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You have nowhere else to go.”

“I have family in Chester!”

“Who may very well be involved with your father.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that.

“If you go back to them and it turns out they’re working for your father, it will be seen as a defection.” He leaned forward. “I cannot protect you once you leave these walls.”

“Protect me from whom?”

“People you would be wise to steer clear of.” Colton sat back deeper in his chair, his head resting against the high back. From my position on the bed, I saw only his profile.

“This, this is why I hate you.” Of all the things I felt for Colton, anger was the only one I could freely express.

“If hating me keeps you alive, I’ll gladly take the exchange.”

“Nobody wants to be hated,” I scoffed.

“I don’t. At least not by you.” Sensing his eyes on me, I looked up. His eyes were bright, burning with an emotion I’d only glimpsed during our trip, and then it had quickly been banked before I could identify it.

“What? What is it you want from me?” The question was between us before I could stop myself.

“I am not certain who my answer will frighten more, me or you.” His laugh was derisive.

“No.” I held up my hand when he would have continued. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Not as long as my father is between us.”

“Which could be longer than I am willing to wait.” The fire in his eyes was quickly banked.

“I never asked you to wait.” I wasn’t quite certain what we were talking about, but it was more than my father. It was about Colton and I; something better left a mystery.

“I never intended to.”

“Then don’t.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Explain.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You told me you didn’t want to hear anything more.”

I hated when he took the upper hand in our arguments. “You are impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.” His sapphire eyes gleamed, and a corner of his mouth started upward but abruptly smoothed back into a straight line when I frowned at him.

Time to go back to the original point. “Tell me how my father is involved with your family.”

It was his turn to sigh. “I never said he was.”

“You also never said he wasn’t. Which is it?”

“Sweetheart, I am not at liberty to discuss your father with you. Suffice it to say, he is safe.” His tone flattened over the last word, alerting me something was wrong.

“Do you know where he is?” If he said yes, I would have to murder him.

“Generally speaking, no.”

“’Generally speaking’?” I gave him a look. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Your father is currently out of reach.”

When he didn’t continue, I made a noise of frustration. “You cannot say something like that and expect me not to demand an explanation.”

“I will say no more on the subject.” His tone was final.

Luckily, I was not dissuaded. “Either tell me where my father is or leave.”

“No.”

“You cannot refuse an ultimatum.”

“I can.”

I pointed to the door. “I want you to go.”

“I am not ready to leave just yet.”

“This is my room. I don’t want you here.”

“This is my palace and I want to be here.”

How did one argue with that? “Technically, it’s your father’s.”

“Details.” He regarded me carefully. “Most girls like the palace.”

“Do you bring so many back, then?” I widened my eyes at him.