Page 7 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy (Spies and Royals #4)

Chapter Four

“ … you love my daughter, and you don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

The words burned through his thoughts like acid.

Everything was turning into a nightmarish blur.

Achilles stood in the groom’s suite where Venice had gotten ready earlier that day, preparing for his own wedding.

His own ceremony would be a mockery in comparison—no joy, no freedom, and a bride who was trapped in this gilded cage with him.

And he wasn’t abandoning Bris to her father’s whims.

Achilles had seen the truth of that old tyrant’s threats in his eyes. In fact, the instant he’d walked into the room and spied Bris’s tears, he knew that he’d give Chises Mnon anything he wanted.

But to rule Tirreoy? To marry Bris against her will? Yes, and yes.

He groaned. His first instinct had been to wrap his arms tightly around Bris and let her cry against him, even as she begged him not to give in to her father, but what was the alternative?

At least this way, he could protect her.

Achilles would go mad knowing she was in danger in some far-off place where he couldn’t fight for her.

He’d been to Tirreoy, and he’d seen for himself the rubble that was left from the civil war that had torn that country apart.

Crime-infested streets, dangerous conditions, a lawless world.

And what about these advisors that Venice didn’t trust?

He’d have to move more carefully than his friend had, stay in the shadows and strike when the moment was right, so that Chises Mnon wouldn’t realize he’d been played until it was too late.

Was it even possible? Where were Bris’s loyalties? He wasn’t sure anymore. Was he marrying the enemy? This might be the worst mistake he’d ever made.

He ran his fingers through his hair, not having a comb.

He’d made all sorts of excuses to Charisse earlier to get out of their plans tonight—it wasn’t worse than what he’d done with other women in his life, though he honestly had never broken a date to get married before. There was a first time for everything.

A soft rap sounded on his door. His hand froze on his hair, and he turned. “Yes?”

“Achilles.” He recognized the gentle voice that had once sung him to sleep with Tirreoy’s most beloved lullabies. How was it possible that she was here?

He jerked open the door, and his breath caught. Clysta stood before him, her willowy frame draped in an oversized dress, but unmistakably his mother. The delicate silk scarf couldn’t quite contain the thick, dark curls that had always defied taming, just like her spirit once had.

He ushered her quickly inside, noting how she moved like she was being hunted by a bear, each step careful. “What are you doing here?” Her life was in danger.

She shut the door behind her, leaning against the oak with delicate shoulders. “My love, I came as soon as I could. Tell me truthfully, are you sure this is what you want to do?”

He studied the new shadows beneath her eyes. “What have you heard?” he asked carefully.

“You’re marrying Chises Mnon’s daughter in exchange for my—my pardon.

” Her head lowered, and a flush crept up her elegant neck.

The fact that she knew every detail, and that she’d come so quickly sent his suspicions on hyper-drive.

The Myrdons were just like the ants they’d tattooed all over their bodies—her bloodthirsty husband, the demon who’d spawned the whole twisted organization, had spies crawling all over the place.

“We don’t have to do it this way,” she said, and he caught a tremor in her voice that she quickly suppressed.

“I thought you’d approve,” he said. The usual anger at her betrayal flared through him.

“Atreus Mnon has been pushing for this since Scheria Island. I’m sure your new husband would be here to congratulate me if he could…

as well as force me to memorize detailed instructions on how to suck the royal family dry… or has that job fallen to you now?”

Something flickered across her features—pain, perhaps guilt—before her expression shuttered. “I came because I’m your mother.” She seemed to steady herself. “Believe it or not, I care about you!”

More lies! She’d roped him into this cause, knowing that she was introducing her son to a monster. She was incapable of leaving her abuser. Why drag him into the trouble too?

He turned back to the mirror, trying to fix the tie that got more difficult to manage by the second.

“You forget. I’ve seen exactly how Atreus Mnon works.

” He’d used everyone Achilles loved against him—just like his brother Chises Mnon was doing now!

The Tyndarian royal family were peas in a pod.

“I know what your husband is capable of,” he muttered.

His beautiful mother wasn’t defending him right now.

No talk of Atreus Mnon merely fighting against an unfair system or avenging his father’s death?

No arguments that Achilles would someday understand the importance of the Tirrojan revolution?

He shot her a sharp glance, but her eyes held something he hadn’t seen in years—a spark of the fierce starlet who’d once taken all of Tirreoy by storm.

She was acting strange. “You can forget about me working with the Myrdons.”

She snorted with impatience. “There are darker forces at play here, and you’re going to need allies at the palace.

” Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper as she moved closer, her movements fluid despite the tension radiating from her small frame.

“Your phones will be bugged; the halls will be swarming with spies, and so if you need to contact me, I want you to use this.”

She dropped a gold ring into his palm. The red rubies caught the light like drops of blood against a gold cross. “Find my heart…” she said, and for a moment her mask slipped, revealing desperation, “seek the cross. Then you will discover the help you need.”

She spoke in code, like she was afraid that they were being monitored even now. She might not be wrong. Turning over the band, his heart sank when he saw the insignia of the Myrdon ants under the band. “Put it on,” she said.

With sudden revulsion tightening his every muscle, he dropped it back into her hand. “No thanks! How about you give me your phone number like a normal mom?”

Her fingers trembled as they closed around the ring, and he saw her swallow hard. “I know you don’t trust me anymore… for good reason.”

“Yeah, you almost killed my best friend.”

She bit her lower lip—a gesture so achingly familiar from his childhood that his chest tightened.

“If you don’t wear the ring, then at least keep it close.

” Again, she placed the gold band in his palm, her touch lingering as she folded his fingers over the cold metal.

Her brown eyes begged him. “You’ll see… you’ll see very soon that Tirreoy is full of danger.

Never forget—find my heart; seek the cross.

Then you will discover the help you need. ”

Achilles felt his helplessness consume him, especially when he saw those eyes glisten with tears that she refused to let fall.

More than anything, he hoped she was wrong, that he’d never need the help of the Myrdons, but a nagging feeling told him that he was over his head in every way. He slipped the ring into his pocket.

Her hands found his, small and warm but carrying calluses that spoke of the difficulty of the life she led. “Do you love her?” she asked.

Again… he remembered the lullabies his mother used to sing to him, remembered how she’d been Tirreoy’s own rock star before she’d given up all the fame for her children; she’d whispered into his ear how he was her little warrior.

Now he wanted to go back to confiding in her, tell her that what he felt for Bris…

was complicated, but he couldn’t trust her with his heart.

He settled on a careful answer: “I care about her.”

A brief smile—genuine this time—transformed her face into something closer to what he remembered.

“I’m glad of it. I wish I could give you more advice.

I loved your father so much that I…” Her voice caught, and she looked away.

She’d told him that Chises Mon had him assassinated—that was why he’d joined the Myrdons in the first place. “Well, that is over now.”

“What about Atreus Mnon?” He couldn’t help asking.

The fact she stayed with that killer only confirmed to him that the man was using her children against her.

An urgency that he’d hidden deep inside floated to the surface.

What if he could reach her this time? “If you need help out,” he said.

“I can do that.” He’d make another deal with Chises Mnon; promise to fight any war he asked him to do; he’d do anything.

“You’ve a good heart,” she breathed, reaching up to touch his cheek with fingers that shook slightly, “just like your father. My love, I am safe. I am only worried about you, and about my darling Iphigenia. Listen to me, if you need anything, I’m here for you. Always remember that.”

The fact that she’d come so quickly was testament to that. He was almost afraid to ask how she’d done it, but he had a feeling that she would’ve risked her life to bring him this ring. It felt like he had a loaded weapon in his pocket.

She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek, her touch brief and warm, carrying the faint scent of jasmine that he remembered from childhood.

Then she was leaving as silently as she had come.

He stared at the door, listening to the soft scrape of her shoes against the flagged stone hallway—even her footsteps held secrets.

And now he had the Myrdon’s blessing on this marriage. He groaned. This was all beginning to feel real… he hadn’t even invited his sister to the wedding. There was good reason for that. Gena would try to make him be sensible, and then he’d have to explain everything to her.