‘Isn’t this the most beautiful dress?’ she said with her gaze fixed on her, her eyes searching.
Amy nodded, the bile in her throat burning.
‘The dressmaker who made this has agreed to come out of retirement to make mine. I’m having my first fitting tomorrow—did Helios tell you I will be staying at the palace for the weekend?’
‘I’ve heard it mentioned,’ she whispered. She’d overheard a couple of the tour guides discussing the visit. They’d been wondering whether the Princess would bring her fabulous Vuitton bag with her. She had.
The Princess smiled. Despite her amiability, sadness lurked behind her eyes. It filled Amy with horror.
‘There isn’t much that happens within the palace that’s kept secret, is there?’
Flames licked her cheeks. It took all her willpower for her not to cover them with her hands.
The Princess seemed not to want a response of the verbal kind. Her sad, probing eyes never left Amy’s face, but she smiled. ‘I thank you for your time.’
‘Do you not want to see the other exhibition rooms?’ Caught off guard, Amy took the Princess’s hand; a major breach of protocol. She had the softest skin imaginable.
The Princess’s squeeze of her hand was gentle and...forgiving? The smile thrown at her was enigmatic. ‘I have seen what I came to see.’
Nodding at her bodyguards, she glided away, tall, lithe and poised.
Amy stared at the retreating figure and rubbed the nape of her neck, feeling as if all the wind had been knocked out of her.
The Princess knew.
Dear God, the Princess knew.
* * *
Her concentration lost, Amy wandered around the exhibition rooms, praying no one would ask her anything that required any thought to answer. Feeling nauseous to the bone, she eventually settled in the entrance hall, trying her hardest to keep herself together.
But all too soon the influx of guests had reduced and reality was given space to taunt her.
The marble sculptures of the four Kings kept drawing her attention, and as much as she knew she shouldn’t she went and stood before them.
King Astraeus the Third had been famed for his wisdom. She wished he could transmute some of it to herself. But it was King Astraeus the Second she couldn’t tear her eyes away from. His resemblance to Helios was so strong she could fool herself into thinking it was him.
One day, decades from now, a statue much like this would be made of him. If she closed her eyes she could see it, could envisage every inch of the ten-foot marble figure. If the sculptor were to show her the block of stone she would be able to tell him where every line and sinew should go.
It came to her then what she’d been doing that night after the Gala—or early morning—when she’d touched every part of him. She’d been committing him to memory. She hadn’t been able to face the truth at the time, but it hit her now. She’d imprinted him on her mind because her subconscious had known that it would be their last time.
Their time together was truly over.
The walls of the great exhibition room suddenly loomed large over her, swallowing her. The statues and the other exhibits blurred. She needed air. But to flee outside would mean risking seeing the Princess or, worse, Helios. She couldn’t face him with an audience watching. The next time she saw him she had to be alone with him.
Pulling her identity card from around her neck and stuffing it in her pocket, she walked into the main museum, hurrying through the crowds of visitors until she found Claudia.
‘I’ve got a migraine coming,’ she said. ‘I need to rest—can you give my apologies to Pedro?’
‘Sure.’ Claudia looked at her with concern Amy knew she didn’t deserve. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘No, thank you. Please, I just need to get some sleep in a darkened room.’
Not waiting for a response, Amy wove her way through the remaining people to the private staff entrance to the palace, then hurried up the stairs to her apartment, kicked off her shoes and threw herself onto the bed.
She might not really have a migraine, but her head pounded as if a dozen church bells were ringing inside it. Let it pound. Let the bells clang as loudly as they could and the decibels increase.
She deserved nothing less.
* * *
Helios stood in the green stateroom, holding discussions with a group of German business people who wanted to invest considerable sums in Agon’s infrastructure and, naturally, recoup their investment with considerable profit. With them was Agon’s Transport Minister.
Agon had its own senate, and committees which decided on issues such as outside investors, but an endorsement from one of the royal Princes meant this would be as good as a done deal. Helios knew his opinions carried a great deal of weight and did his utmost to use his influence wisely.