Thin Hope Read online

  Whimpering. His tough daughter, who hadn't even cried since she was eight. Whimpering.

  His heart leapt up into his throat. He knelt down beside her and shook her by the shoulder. Her pistol lay on the floor, three feet away, smoking at the barrel. Glass littered the floor near the back wall and a smoky odor filled the air. Kiki wouldn’t have fired her guns unless she absolutely had to. The Academy had taught his children gun safety before anything else. He swallowed and took a breath to keep his voice calm. “Kiki, tell me what happened.”

  Kiki remained frozen, curled up in a ball, eyes squeezed shut. “Don't touch me!”

  Morris shook her again. “It’s me. What happened?”

  At last, Kiki turned her head to face him. All the color had drained from her face, leaving her much paler than usual.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “He was here....then he wasn't.” Her voice trembled, out of control.

  “Who? Patrick?” His fists tightened to the point of pain, even though he was never a violent man. If his brother-in-law had anything to do with this, he was going to regret ever setting foot in this palace.

  “Yes,” Kiki said. “It...it’s getting to me. I’m starting to see things.”

  “Okay, this is what I'll do,” Morris told his fear-stricken daughter. “I'll talk to your mother about this, and we'll help you distance yourself from Patrick. If he persists even after all the threats I have given him today, I'll throw him in jail for sexual harassment.”

  Morris looked down at the patterns in the marble floor, thinking hard. The situation needed to be resolved before it did anything else like this to Kiki. Maybe bringing this problem up with Dawn may help. Patrick was her brother, after all.

  Unfortunately.

  * * * * *

  Morris left Kiki alone in the bathroom, giving her privacy to get dressed, though he stayed outside the door until she had finished. She was supposed to go meet Damon in the dining room at dinner, and the thought calmed the tingling in his palms. It would be good for someone else to be around her while he got to the bottom of this.

  “Accompany her to the dining room,” he ordered one of the guards. After that display, he wasn’t letting her wander around the palace alone, not until he was certain Patrick was nowhere on the premises. The man couldn't have gotten into the bathroom with her, but he hated to think about what could have happened before to give her a nervous breakdown like that.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Patrick still stood in the study, looking out the window and at the royal gardens below. He slowly approached his brother-in-law, who was still looking out the window, smiling.

  “We need to talk,” Morris said to him.

  Patrick turned his head to face him, and motioned him over to the window. “What is it?” A fake smile crept onto his face.

  “It's about Kiki,” Morris said, fists clenching. He resisted the urge to clock his selfish brother-in-law across the face. He’d deserve it, the pervert. “I just found my daughter having a nervous breakdown in the Garden Bath, so much so that she fired her guns and shattered the wall. She fears and hates you so much that she's started hallucinating about you.” The smile didn’t fade from Patrick’s face, and something inside Morris snapped, and he did something that he hadn’t done to anyone in years. He reached out and seized the scruff of Patrick’s uniform. “You find this amusing, don’t you?”

  “Am I laughing?” Patrick raised both hands in the air in mock surrender.

  A vein started to throb across the king’s forehead as he tightened his grip on Patrick, so much so that his Metal of Fortitude stabbed into his palm. “In your head, perhaps. I mean what I say here today, Patrick. I don't care if you’re my wife’s brother. You are not above the law. I will see that you get stripped of your title and thrown in jail with sexual harassment charges if you continue.”

  “But...I would never do anything to hurt Kiki,” Patrick said. He shrugged. “You know as well as I that she can be...emotional at times.”

  “Then, my friend, if you don't want to hurt my daughter, stay the hell away from her, and let her live her life as she sees fit.” Morris loosened his grip and watched Patrick back towards the window. Perhaps he was getting the message. “Let her love the man she loves, let her do what she does, let her avoid you, and let her plan her own future. She doesn't need help from you.”

  “I'm only trying to help her lighten up. With the war coming—”

  Morris took a menacing step closer. “Listen. Don’t underestimate my intelligence..”

  He turned away from Patrick and made a swift exit to the East Hallway. A word with his wife about her brother was in order here. If Patrick had shown this kind of behavior before, she may know about it. It wouldn’t prove an easy task, however. The thought of telling his beloved wife that her brother quite possibly wanted to commit incest with their daughter sent a sick feeling rippling through his stomach.

  He knew he had to do it, for Kiki's sake.

  Chapter Two

  Damon Stanza’s palms tingled with nerves as he paced around the castle dining room, past high-backed chairs and the polished wood of the tabletop. Twin chandeliers reflected off the polish and into his eyes like spotlights. He stopped and set his palms on the table, watching sweat marks form around his fingers as his ice-blue eyes stared back at him. Today, he would do it. Today he would finally ask her.

  He jammed his hand into the pocket of his cammo pants--his pair that matched Kiki's--to make sure the ring box was still there. Kiki already had all the jewelry she wanted, thanks to being a princess and all, but she wasn’t that into jewelry, and this wasn’t about the ring, anyway. Kiki had been his best friend, his mate, since kindergarten. Her family had taken him in after his parents were killed in the Lateine Border Skirmish seven years ago, courtesy of Emperor Ivan and his attempted land grab, even though he was technically a commoner. If it hadn’t been for her, he might’ve wound up shuttled from foster home to foster home, never staying in the same place for more than a few months at a time. She’d always been there for him. Now, it was his turn to make that promise.

  Most people he’d talked to at the jewelers told him the same thing: that a princess would want a ring loaded with diamonds, in other words, something very expensive. Kiki wasn’t your usual princess. She’d rather be out on the shooting range, doing target practice right beside him. It was one of just many reasons he loved her so much.

  The ring he had bought was the simplest ring he could find: a golden band with just one diamond on it. Perfect for her. And it wouldn’t get in the way of the trigger when they went shooting together.

  The fingerprint sensor on the other side of the dining room door beeped, a lock clicked back, and Kiki burst into the dining room, practically flinging herself into his arms.

  She felt warm as he wrapped his arms around her, but there was something else. A tremor swept over her like a mini earthquake and didn’t let up. Something had happened, and he had a feeling he knew what.

  “Patrick held you up again?” he asked, dreading the answer. The scumbag hadn’t left her alone in three months, despite all his threats.

  Kiki sighed heavily and sagged into his grip. Yes.

  “Listen,” Damon said, turning Kiki around and gazing into her eyes. They were red. She’d been crying, something he hadn’t seen her come close to doing since she’d broken her arm doing the obstacle course behind the army barracks one night. “We can take a vacation soon, and get away from all the crap. We don’t have to tell anyone where we’re going, okay?”

  Kiki nodded and hugged him tightly, so much that he had trouble breathing. “We’re on the brink of war with Delainia, so it might not be possible,” Kiki said, hugging him tighter. “I’m heir to the throne. Nobody’s going to want me to go anywhere.”

  “We’ll figure something out. Don’t worry.” Precious oxygen escaped his lungs as he spoke. He ran his hand through Kiki’s long red hair. It was soft and damp, with the scent of mint. Now
wasn’t the right time to propose, again. His throat had gone dry. Why couldn’t he get up the guts to just ask her? It would completely kill him if he never did.

  “My dad is going to do something about Patrick,” Kiki said. Her voice gushed with relief.

  “Finally?” Damon asked. His mood lifted a notch. That alone would solve a lot of their problems.

  “He overheard Patrick bothering me this time.”

  His shoulders sagged with relief as Kiki loosened her grip.

  The ring box pushed against his leg as he shifted. Maybe he had to create that moment himself. He needed a time where Patrick wouldn’t be around to see—and react. Damon couldn’t trust him not to explode with rage when he heard, or worse, do something really stupid. The creep would have to work late tonight, having meetings with his assistant generals, with the recent news that the Delainian army was moving closer to their border city. It gave him the perfect opportunity for a romantic evening. With the war coming, there might not be another one for quite a while.

  “Let’s make it an evening tonight…alone,” Damon suggested.

  Kiki looked up at him. She said nothing, but the sparkle in her green eyes told him what he needed to know—that she liked the idea. It would get them both away from the war for a while. After the day she’d had, it would do some good.

  Damon pushed his forehead against Kiki's. He caressed her cheek and kissed her softly. Warmth spread through his body as their lips met. Kiki ran her fingers through his blonde hair, sending tingles across his scalp.

  “I love you more than anything,” Damon said. “I don't ever want to lose you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  * * * * *

  This was going to be very difficult.

  King Morris’s beautiful wife, Dawn, stood on the other side of the ballroom, speaking with her head Events Planner, Meredith. It had to be some last minute preparations for the Professors’ Ball tonight, in which all the teachers of Frelladon were invited to be thanked for the efforts in education. The king hated to do this on such a happy day for her, but it was necessary.

  Meredith nodded, tipped her head, and left the room towards the kitchens. The chefs had their work cut out for them tonight. Already the scent of roast turkey wafted across the polished floors.

  “Dawn,” he said.

  She turned to face him, smiling, but it died on her face a second later as she read his features. Over the years, she’d learned to recognize when something serious was in the works, and being the royal couple, it was far too often.

  Morris hadn’t the slightest clue about where to start this conversation. It was going to be awkward, of course, but the discussion needed to happen. The king reverted to his low, soothing voice. “It’s about your brother. May we step out into the hall?”

  A shadow seemed to creep across his wife’s face, darkening her green eyes—Kiki’s eyes—for a moment. Even the forest green of her gown seemed to dull. She didn’t speak or ask what was the matter. Dawn was always pretty quiet, unlike Kiki, but never this quiet. Perhaps, in some way, she already knew? The thought didn’t dispel the storm raging somewhere down in his chest.

  The North Hallway was fairly quiet, with the exception of the hurried chefs bursting in and out of the swinging doors at the end of the hall. They were too far away to overhear, and too hurried to attempt to overhear, for that matter. Dawn walked with her head down, seemingly lost in thought. It was best to get this over with and clear the air as quickly as he could.

  “Dawn, I have reason to believe that your brother is stalking Kiki.”

  Silence. Dawn walked over to the closest window and stared out at the palace gates and the skyscrapers of Frelladon beyond, as if she were trying to drown out his question. Tension filled the air and made it hard for Morris to breathe. Did Dawn know something about this already? Had something like this ever happened to her? Patrick hadn’t seemed too fond of their marriage years ago, so much so that he’d barely spoken to them at their wedding, but at the time, he’d written if off as his trying to be overprotective of his sister.

  He kept his voice low and stared at the patterns in the marble floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you this.”

  Dawn whirled around so fast, her skirts swished around her. She pinned herself against the window, gripping the frame so hard that her knuckles went from pink to white in a heartbeat. “No.”

  Morris’s heart sank down nearly to his boots. Something in her face, her posture, her eyes, told him the truth: that this had happened before.

  “No.” Dawn’s eyes narrowed into slits. “This isn’t happening to my daughter. This isn’t!”

  “Dawn, Dawn,” Morris said, taking her shoulders. He swallowed and braced himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “Has Patrick ever done anything like this to you?”

  His wife said nothing for a long time and stared down at the floor. “When...when we were teenagers, he used to...” she didn’t finish. "I can't believe I said that. Dear--"

  The king swept her up in his arms. A million thoughts raced through every corner of his mind at once. A sick feeling filled him from head to toe. Why hadn’t Dawn ever told him this before? The watery look of her eyes gave away the answer: pain.

  “I’m so sorry, dear,” he said, running his hand down her long hair and down the back of her green silk dress. Somewhere, a kitchen door swung open and closed again. What had Patrick done to his love, his best friend? The king swore not to be a violent man, not like his forebears, but when he got a hold of his General again, he was going to do more than strip him of his title and throw him in jail. “I didn’t want to tell you. I knew it was going to be painful.”

  Dawn backed out of his grasp, staring up at him as her brown hair spilled around her oval face in a mess. Something changed in her face. Her eyes narrowed back into slits as scarlet rose into her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me a long time ago?” She bit her lip as if her next words would drive an invisible knife into her heart. “You’re aware of my family history. This sort of thing has...” she glanced up and down the hall to make sure it was clear of chefs and guards. “...has happened before.”

  “That was well over a hundred years ago, dear.” The top of Morris’s head began to thrum like a marching band. He hadn’t wanted, or expected, an argument on this matter.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “A while, but I only became fully aware of the situation today. I knew the two weren’t getting along, but—”

  Dawn threw her hands in the air, whirled around, and stalked away before he could finish. Morris ran after her, but she disappeared through the swinging kitchen doors before he could catch up, skirts slapping behind her.

  “Dawn!” He barely blocked the door with his palm before it struck him in the face. She didn’t get this way often, but when she did, she was so much like their daughter.

  Pans clattered and gravy scoops fell to the floor as his wife barreled through the kitchen, towards the dining room. Chefs in white hats stared after the couple as they raced through. He even caught a glimpse of Meredith’s purple-eyed stare to the side of him as he broke into a run. “Dear, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “But you should have brought this up sooner.” Dawn whirled around to face Emery, the head chef, and proceeded to stare at the soup he was stirring. She wrinkled her nose. “It needs a bit more spice, in my opinion. And be sure to make sure that bread over there is free of mold.”

  “Dawn, please. Don’t take this out on the chefs.” Nothing was ever to her satisfaction when she got angry like this, from the length of the curtains to the quality of the salt they had for dinner.

  His wife sighed and pushed open the swinging doors to the dining room with both hands.

  Once again, Morris had to catch the doors before they hit him in the face. He struggled to keep his voice from rising. “I didn’t know how you would react.”

  “What did you expect when—”

&nb
sp; Dawn stopped in place like a crow come down to roost. Damon and Kiki stood on the other side of the dining room, breaking apart as his wife stared them down. Kiki swallowed as her gaze darted up and down the length of the room. Even Damon blinked a few times and seemed lost for words. Dawn wasn’t angry often, and nobody seemed to know how to react.

  “Is everything all right?” Kiki asked. The tone of her voice revealed that she didn’t believe so.

  “Yes, your father and I just had a little…” Dawn looked over her shoulder at him, “dispute.”

  Morris stood tall and bent his mouth into a straight line to hide his emotion. If his frustration showed now, it would only make things worse. Anger only fuels more anger. His father’s words echoed through his mind.

  “Oh.” His daughter glanced at him and then back to her mother. Her eyes gave away the fact that she’d figured out what their dispute had been about. Then she quickly added, “We won’t be at the Professors’ Ball tonight.” She shrank back a bit towards Damon, as if fearing an outburst from her mother. It was a justified fear, but of course, he couldn’t say that out loud.

  “Why won’t you be at dinner?” Morris asked.

  “Damon wants to have a romantic night with me. I think it’ll be fun!” Excitement bubbled into Kiki’s voice.

  Morris took a glance at Dawn. His wife’s mood seemed to have reversed. A warm smile crept across her features. She, like him, could sense what was coming. Damon would finally propose to their daughter. He’d been carrying the engagement ring, a nice simple one that Kiki would love, for about two months now. He would make a fine husband for her, and one day, a fine king, having come from Frelladon’s poor. He would understand the needs of the people, unlike some of his forebears. He and his daughter would make a brighter future for Keilara, continuing the work started by his late father.

  Kiki giggled as Damon tickled her sides from behind. The tension in the room broke as the king exchanged a smile with his wife. He’d used to do that with Dawn, back when they were dating at the Frelladon Military Academy.