The landing pad soared up to meet them, and there was the familiar jar of impact. The noise of the rotors lessened. Rico released his seat belt, nodded his thanks to the pilot, and slid back the door. Lithely he jumped down and ducked out from under the slowing rotors, then straightened.
As he did, he saw a quartet of figures emerging from the palace. Palace guards in their duty uniforms. He paused, frowning, waiting for them to approach.
‘What is it?’ he demanded sharply.
The senior officer among them stared straight ahead, not looking at him. His face was expressionless.
‘I regret to inform Your Highness,’ he said, ‘that you are under arrest.’
He was taken to his own apartments. His phone was removed from him, and he realised that all other communication devices, from PC to laptop, had been removed or disabled, including both the house phone and the phones with outside lines.
Disbelief sent shock waves through him.
What the hell was going on? Fury, disbelief, shock—all warred within him.
He paced, rigid with rage, across his sitting room.
The double doors opened and he snapped round. The doors had been opened by two of the guards standing outside. Through them was walking his father.
‘What the hell is this?’ Rico demanded.
His father walked in, The guards closed the doors again.
‘I have placed you,’ said Prince Eduardo, ‘under arrest.’
‘On what charge?’
Rico’s voice was hollow, disbelieving.
There was a silence for a moment. His father’s eyes rested on him. They were cold. Rico had never seen them look so cold.
‘You have committed a crime against the principality of San Lucenzo.’
His voice was as cold as his eyes.
Rico stared.
‘What?’
‘It is a crime dating back to medieval times. It has little modern enforcement, with one salient exception.’ His father paused again. ‘Royal marriages,’ he said.
‘I don’t understand,’ Rico answered slowly. He was holding still, very still.
His father’s cold eyes rested on him.
‘Any member of the royal family requires the consent of the Prince before they may marry. You failed to obtain it. Therefore your marriage is void.’
Rico let the words sink in. Then he spoke.
‘You can recognise it after the fact.’
‘I shall not do so. The marriage is void. You have married without my consent.’
Rico looked at him.
‘Why are you doing this? Does it mean nothing to you that the boy is Paolo’s son?’ His voice was strange, remote.
‘Paolo is dead—because of this boy. Had that greedy, overambitious girl not sought to entrap him