Michelle Smart - Theseus Discovers His Heir

It had been time to accept his destiny.

He had decided he would curb his pleasure-seeking and throw himself into palace life. His grandfather had already been an old man. Helios had taken on many of his duties. It had been time for Theseus to take his share of them and relieve the burden.

He had been determined to prove to his grandfather that the Kalliakis name did mean something to him and had spent the years since his sabbatical doing exactly that—throwing himself into palace life and royal duties. In that time his appetite for sex had diminished to nothing, which suited him perfectly. Women who would usually turn his head had elicited minimal reaction. Neither his heart not his libido had been in it.

Now, for the first time in years, he felt the thrill of the chase coiling in his veins and cursed that such feelings should be unleashed.

Jo might be walking temptation, but there was no place in his life for desire. His next relationship would be with the woman he made his wife, even if he did intend on putting off the moment for as long as he could.

He stepped away from his desk and crossed the threshold into the adjoining office.

‘How are you getting on?’

She didn’t respond.

He was about to repeat his question but then saw she had earphones in.

She must have sensed his presence, for she turned her head and pulled them out.

‘I will be leaving the palace shortly. Is there anything you need to talk to me about?’

‘Not yet. I’m still going through the research papers and making notes on anything I feel could be relevant. As so many aspects are connected I think it will be best if we sit down and discuss it all when I’m done.’

‘Will that not eat into your writing time?’

‘It will make it easier—it means it will be solid in my head and I’ll be in a position to work through it all without having to stop and interrupt you every five minutes. I’ll probably still have further questions, but they will be far fewer this way.’

‘I’m hosting a function for a delegation of French businessmen today, and I have a dinner at the US Embassy to attend this evening, but I can clear most of my diary for the next few days so I’ll be available when you’re ready.’

‘That would be good, thank you,’ she answered with a brief smile, her brilliant blue-grey eyes meeting his. She looked away, casting her gaze to her desk, then back up to him. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’ So long as it wasn’t about Illya. He refused to give headspace to memories from that time.

‘Your grandfather’s ill, isn’t he?’

‘How do you know that?’ he asked, taken aback.

No one outside of the family circle and some select palace staff were supposed to know of his grandfather’s cancer—which naturally meant the whole palace knew. However, Theseus knew none of them would discuss it with anyone on the outside. Working in the Agon Royal Palace was considered an honour. To share confidential matters would be deemed treasonous.

‘The publishing deadline was brought forward by three months and it was a tight enough deadline to begin with.’ She shrugged, as if ashamed of her conclusion.

But it was the right conclusion.

It had occurred to Theseus, when the Jubilee Gala plans were first being discussed, that his grandfather had never seen his legacy in print. Usually Agon biographies were written after the reigning monarch had abdicated, then another would be written upon their death. As his grandfather had never abdicated that first book had never been written. He’d spent fifty years on the throne—the longest reign in three hundred years.

Suddenly he’d stumbled upon a tangible way to prove to his grandfather that he was proud of his heritage, proud to be a Kalliakis and, more than any of that, proud to call Astraeus his grandfather.

The more he’d immersed himself in his grandfather’s life, the greater his pride had become. Astraeus Kalliakis was a true king. A man of honour. A man Theseus knew he should have emulated, not turned his back on for all those years.

This biography would be his personal tribute to him.

But then fate had stepped in. No sooner had he finished his research, and Fiona had flown over to the island to start writing it, than his grandfather had been given his diagnosis and everything had been brought forward by three months.

The Gala, the biography...everything was being rushed. Because now there lay the real danger that his grandfather wouldn’t live long enough to see any of it.

The day drew nearer when he would have to say goodbye for the last time to the man who had raised him from the age of nine.

Theos, he would give his soul for a miracle.

* * *

Jo watched Theseus carefully. For a man usually so full of vitality he had a sudden stillness about him that she found unnerving.

Then his lips curved into a pensive smile and he nodded. ‘Your intuition is right. My grandfather has cancer.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘He’s eighty-seven,’ he said philosophically, but his eyes had dimmed.

‘That doesn’t make it any easier.’ Jo had only known one of her grandparents: her paternal grandfather. She’d never seen much of him when she’d been growing up but she remembered how she’d always looked forward to his visits. When Granddad Bill came over her mother would bake even more cakes than usual and her father would drag himself out of the study where he spent his days drinking cheap whisky.

His death had saddened her but the distance between their lives had meant it had caused a dull ache rather than an acute pain.

It would be a thousand times harder for Theseus. The King was like a father to him.

He must be going through hell.

She remembered his despondency five years ago, when he’d learned his grandmother was dying. Whatever regrets Jo might have over that night, she would never regret being there for him.

Who amongst this palace of courtiers did he turn to for solace now? Who wrapped their arms around his neck and stroked his hair? Who tried to absorb his pain and give him comfort?

Because surely—surely—his pain that night had been real. Even if everything else had been a lie, that had been true.

Somewhere beneath the brooding façade Theseus was in agony. She would bet every penny she owned on it.

He tugged at his shirt collar as if it constricted him. ‘The hardest thing to understand is why he didn’t say anything sooner. He’s known for a number of years that something was wrong but didn’t say a word until the pain became intolerable. If he’d spoken sooner they might have been able to cure him, but...’ He shrugged and closed his eyes. ‘He left it too late. He’s riddled with it.’

‘Is he having any treatment?’

‘Against the doctor’s advice, yes.’

‘They don’t think it’s a good idea?’

‘His age and frailty are factors against it, but my grandfather is a stubborn old man who has never had to bow to the opinions of those he disagrees with—he is a king. He wants to live long enough to celebrate his jubilee and see Helios married. He has tasked the doctors with making that happen.’

Silence hung, forming a strangely intimate atmosphere that was broken by a knock on the door.

Theseus’s eyes held hers for a beat longer before he called out, ‘Come,’ and a courtier entered with news that the delegation he was expecting had arrived.

Excusing himself, he disappeared, leaving Jo with nothing but her own confused thoughts for company.

She doubled over and laid her cheek on the desk, gazing at the closed door with unfocused eyes, trying to control the savage beat of her heart.

The King—her son’s great-grandfather—was dying.

It brought it home as nothing else had that this family, however great and powerful they might be, were Toby’s kin.