Page 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

H is eyes locked with hers as if searching for answers. His intense gaze sent warmth cascading down her spine. She knew she should let him make his own choices, but she couldn’t stand by while Kynon manipulated him with lies.

“There’s something you should know about Kynon,” she said, licking her suddenly dry lips. “I’ve been asking around—Emesyn and some of Oberon’s sources have been... illuminating.”

Charov’s eyebrow arched. “And what exactly have they illuminated?”

Bess shifted in her seat, the leather creaking beneath her. “Remember at the ball, how you mentioned Kynon’s hunger for power? It goes deeper than ambition. Apparently, he’s had his eye on your throne for years.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” Charov grunted, his thumb tracing circles on her hand.

“No, but this might be—he’s not the benevolent leader he pretends to be.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice though they were alone in the backseat. “Behind closed doors, he’s abusive to his staff, even his family. The public face of compassion? It’s all fabricated.”

Charov stiffened, his shoulders squaring. The bear inside him seemed to rise to the surface—not in a shift, but in the dangerous gleam that entered his eyes.

“Explain.”

“His household staff rotates constantly because he fires them for the smallest infractions. Sometimes worse.” Bess shuddered. “Emesyn’s cousin works there. She says he threw a solid gold paperweight at a maid for moving his desk items while cleaning.”

The temperature in the transport seemed to drop. Charov’s fingers tightened around hers.

“And Nya?” he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Bess swallowed hard. “She wears high collars and long sleeves for a reason, according to several sources.”

A growl rumbled in Charov’s chest, vibrating through the space between them. The sound was primal and protective—entirely bear.

“If he’s put his hands on anyone—” His free hand clenched into a fist.

“That’s not all,” Bess continued. “The petition he mentioned? If it exists at all, it’s nowhere near as widespread as he implied. Oberon has connections throughout the territory, and no one’s heard anything substantial.”

Charov leaned back, his eyes flashing with something dangerous. The sophisticated royal veneer slipped, revealing the apex predator beneath.

“He’s manipulating you,” Bess concluded, her heart hammering. “Using your grief and uncertainty against you.”

“And you’re certain of this information?” His voice was controlled now, but barely.

“As certain as I can be without seeing it firsthand.”

His jaw set in a hard line. She watched the doubt cloud his eyes. His broad shoulders tensed beneath his tailored suit, and he shook his head with a skepticism that stung more than she expected.

“These are serious accusations, Bess.” His voice was silk over steel. “Kynon has been a trusted advisor to my family for years. My father considered him a close friend.”

Bess bit her lower lip, tasting the remnants of her berry-flavored lip balm. “I understand how it sounds?—”

“Do you?” Charov’s eyes narrowed, sending shivers down her spine despite the heat of his gaze. “You’ve been on Nova Aurora for mere weeks, and you’re accusing one of our most respected nobles of abuse and manipulation.”

The air between them crackled with tension. Bess’s heart hammered, but she refused to back down completely.

“I’m only sharing what I’ve heard,” she said softly. “But I get it—you’ve known him your whole life. Your father trusted him.”

His expression softened slightly, but the doubt remained. “Exactly. My father was an excellent judge of character.”

Bess recognized the insurmountable wall before her. Challenging Charov’s perception of his father’s judgment while he was still grieving would be cruel and futile.

“You’re right,” she conceded, squeezing his large hand. “Let’s drop it for now.”

Relief relaxed the hard lines of his jaw. He nodded once, the authoritative gesture of a man accustomed to having the final word. “Thank you.”

The transport pulled up to their final charity destination—a children’s home on the outskirts of the territory. As they exited the vehicle, Charov’s arm possessively claimed her waist, sending delicious heat spiraling through her body.

“Stay close,” he murmured against her ear, his breath tickling her neck.

The staff greeted them with reverence, sweeping them on a tour of the facility. Bess half-listened to the director’s explanation of their programs while her mind raced. If Charov wouldn’t believe her about Kynon’s ill intentions without evidence, then she’d have to find some.

When they reached the recreation room, a swarm of children surrounded them, their excitement palpable. Charov transformed before her eyes, his regal bearing giving way to playful energy as he dropped to one knee to speak with them at eye level. The children hung on his every word, completely enchanted.

“Your Majesty,” the director touched Charov’s shoulder, “would you mind saying a few words to our benefactors in the next room?”

Charov glanced at Bess. “Will you be all right here for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” She smiled warmly. “Go be kingly.”

His eyes crinkled with slight amusement as he rose to his full, imposing height. “I won’t be long.”

The moment he disappeared through the doorway, Bess slipped away from the children and out a side exit. Her heart pounded with both exhilaration and trepidation as she flagged down a passing shuttle. This wasn’t like her—the responsible, reliable Bess Campos would never sneak away to investigate a powerful nobleman.

But perhaps that Bess belonged to Earth, not Nova Aurora.

“Nuele Estate, please,” she told the driver, sliding into the back seat. “And hurry.”

She felt a rush of reckless determination course through her veins as the shuttle carried her swiftly toward the Nuele estate. She knew Charov would be furious when he discovered her absence, but she couldn’t shake the conviction that Kynon was manipulating the situation.

The shuttle pulled into the curved driveway of the imposing stone manor. Bess smoothed her dress and squared her shoulders.

“Quite unexpected, Lady Bess,” the butler intoned as he admitted her to the grand foyer with its soaring ceilings and gleaming marble floors. “The Duke and Duchess are taking afternoon refreshments on the terrace.”

Bess followed him through corridors lined with ancestral portraits, their eyes seeming to track her movement with suspicion. The terrace overlooked meticulously landscaped gardens where exotic plants from across Nova Aurora bloomed in vibrant profusion.

“Well, well,” Kynon’s silky voice sent prickles down her spine. “What brings our future queen to our humble home without her king?”

Nya rose from her chair, her high-necked dress concealing her throat despite the warm afternoon. “Please, join us. Tea?”

Bess accepted the delicate porcelain cup with a gracious smile that belied the hammering of her heart. “Charov is completing his royal duties. I wanted to speak with you both privately.”

“How intriguing.” Kynon’s blue eyes narrowed, calculating behind his pleasant facade.