Royal Heir
Cover image: Background Bokeh String Lights Party Christmas Lights Autumn Atmosphere Stock Photo © vsanderson. Crown of the Real King on a Black Background. Game of Thrones. Stock Photo © Yurii Kifor. Courtesy iStockphoto.com.
Cover design copyright © 2020 by Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published by Covenant Communications, Inc.
American Fork, Utah
Copyright © 2020 by Traci Hunter Abramson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format or in any medium without the written permission of the publisher, Covenant Communications, Inc., P.O. Box 416, American Fork, UT 84003. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Covenant Communications, Inc., or any other entity.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, or are used fictitiously.
First Printing: March 2020
ISBN 978-1-52441-130-5
All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) or any other U.S. Government agency. Nothing in the contents should be construed as asserting or implying U.S. Government authentication of information or CIA endorsement of the author’s views. This material has been reviewed by the CIA to prevent the disclosure of classified information. This does not constitute an official release of CIA information.
To Paige Edwards
and
Ellie Whitney
Thank you for always encouraging me to
make the next book better than the last
Acknowledgments
With each book, I am truly honored to be blessed with so many readers who have supported me on the journey from one story to another. Thank you for reading and for asking the question, What happens next?
Thank you to the wonderful people at Covenant who continue to allow me to do what I love, especially my amazing editor, Samantha Millburn, as well as Amy Parker and the many people working behind the scenes to make each project a success.
Thanks to my critique partners, Paige Edwards, Ellie Whitney, and Kyla Beecroft, for helping me polish those early drafts. Also, thank you to Sarah Eden, Annette Lyon, and Janette Rallison for giving me the excuse to research Europe in person. You always make the adventure memorable.
Also, I want to thank the many staff members at the Rouse Center who tolerate my crazy antics when writing while walking on their treadmills.
Thank you to my husband, Jon, and to my children, Diana, Christina, Lara, Gabriel, and Luke, for tolerating my time on the computer and my crazy schedule. You make life the best adventure of all.
CHAPTER 1
Princess Cassandra of Sereno crossed the Aubusson rug that ran the length of the wide hallway in the palace residence. She didn’t look at the guard stationed a short distance away; she knew he was there, but she was already focused on her intended destination. She smoothed a hand down her pale-pink ball gown and knocked on her father’s door.
His deep voice called out an instant later. “Come.”
Cassie pushed open the door and entered her father’s apartment. It smelled of leather and aftershave, the lingering perfume her mother had always worn now a distant memory.
She passed through the living quarters and stopped at the bedroom door. Her lips curved when she saw her father standing in front of the oval mirror on the wall, his fingers tugging on his crooked bow tie.
“After all these years, I would have thought you’d figure out how to tie one of those.”
Dark eyes met hers in the mirror. “I can tie one.”
“Since you taught me it’s bad manners to contradict a king, I’ll ignore that comment.” She put her hand on his shoulder, nudging him so he would turn to face her. “Let me.” Cassie undid the tie and started over.
Her father’s voice softened. “Your mother always did this for me.”
“I know. I miss her too.” Cassie tugged on the bow tie, ensuring it was even and straight. “There you go. Perfect.”
He checked the mirror before nodding his approval. “Thank you.”
“Are you ready?”
“I should be asking you that. I’m sorry so many duties have fallen to you.”
She heard the unspoken words at the end of his sentence, “since your mother’s death.” Even though it had been over a year, the thought that her mother was no longer in this life could still cut her off at the knees. Her mother’s illness had been so quick, so unexpected. The doctor had barely uttered the word cancer before they were standing at her graveside.
“Have you spoken to Victoria and Anabelle today?” her father asked.
“Yes. I think they were both relieved you let them stay at school for summer term.”
“It’s hard for them to walk the halls and not have their mother here.”
The sorrow washed over her. Not wanting to dwell on the hurt, she said, “Anabelle did mention something about extra guards following her around. What’s with that?”
“A few rumblings. Nothing to worry about.”
“Papa, you keep too much from me.”
“You will bear the burden of leadership soon enough. Let me shield you a bit longer,” he said. “You’re only twenty-six. You should be traveling and learning more about the world instead of acting as hostess for state dinners.”
“Some things can’t be helped.” She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “But as hostess, it’s my duty to make sure the king is on time.”
“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”
“You taught me well.”
“Let’s go.” He led the way out of his private quarters and into the main hallway, where one of his assistants was waiting. “Is everything in place, Theo?”
“Yes, King Alejandro.”
A guard took position in front of them, leading the way from the family’s private residence into the heart of the palace.
Framed masterpieces hung on the walls, the influence of the French, Italian, and Spanish all represented, as well as a few of Sereno’s own stars.
They reached the section of their home open to public tours, and the artwork here transitioned to being enclosed in protective cases. They were halfway through the wide entryway when the heavy wooden doors opened, the hinges creaking.
Why were the guards allowing anyone to enter when the king was walking through? When two men in white chef’s uniforms stepped inside, Cassie’s confusion deepened. Food preparations should be nearly completed by now. Why would two chefs be arriving minutes before hors d’oeuvres would be served?
Cassie anticipated the guards demanding answers to those exact questions, but instead, one shouted, “Get down!”
The guard’s words only added to her confusion, leaving her frozen in place. Then she saw it, the guns in the newcomers’ hands, as well as the dark, almost blank expressions they wore.
Her heart caught in her throat, and she reached for her father’s hand only to find he was no longer beside her.
Weapons raised on both sides. A guard jumped in front of her, and another grabbed her arm. Gunfire sparked. Bodies fell. Alarms sounded.
Fear swamped through her, even as she was yanked to the side of the foyer. The heel of her left shoe caught on the wood floor, breaking cleanly when a guard shoved her behind a suit of armor. An instant later, the guard dropped to the ground.
Gunshots sparked against metal.
More gunfire. More shouts. More sparks as bullets hit the armor protecting her. The helmet took a direct hit and clanged to the floor.
Cassie fought for breath, unable to see anything beyond the hallway behind her and the guard lying at her feet. She focused on the guard, his chest rising and falling in an irregular pattern, blood visible on his uniform a few inches below his right collarbone.
Cassie knelt, hooked both hands beneath his shoulders, and pulled him toward her. She squeaked in alarm when a bullet impacted only inches from her head, but she didn’t release him until his body was out of the line of fire.
“It’ll be okay,” she murmured, not sure if she was trying to convince the injured guard or herself. She saw the handkerchief in the man’s pocket. Quickly, she drew it out and pressed it against his wound.
She glanced up in time to see a fresh wave of guards arrive from the hall opposite her. This time, the gunfire lasted mere seconds, and none of the royal guards fell. In an instant, Darius, the captain of the guard, appeared at her side.
“Call an ambulance,” Darius yelled to the man behind him. As his companion did so, Darius leaned down. “Your Highness, are you okay?”
“I think so.” Her gaze swept the room, taking in the two assailants lying on the ground, along with three more guards. A tremor worked through her. “My father?”
The king answered for himself, his voice booming through the foyer. “Cassandra!”
Relief washed through her at the familiar sound.
“She’s unharmed.” Darius signaled to one of his men, who took Cassie’s place at the injured guard’s side.
Cassie stood, and immediately, her father gripped her arms, checking for himself to make sure she was indeed okay. Then he swept her into his embrace.
Keeping her close, her father motioned to the foyer. “What happened here? How did those men get past our guards?”
“We don’t know yet, Your Majesty.”
“Find out.”
The guard bowed. “Yes, sire.”
* * *
King Alejandro paced his office, his phone to his ear as his palace manager gave him the update on their dinner guests. Despite the shooting, the meal had been served, but instead of dining with royalty, those present had been joined by several local police detectives.
Alejandro finished his call, but his restless pacing didn’t cease. What he wouldn’t give to have his wife’s calm presence beside him, to have the fresh perspective a woman’s eye could give.
The thought of discussing tonight’s events with Cassie surfaced only to be pushed firmly away. His daughter had suffered enough trauma. Even now, she was locked in her room with two guards posted outside her door. He wasn’t taking any chances with her safety or the safety of his other two daughters.
Deep down, though, he knew extra guards wouldn’t be enough. They wouldn’t be safe until he understood what the assassins wanted. If he gained understanding, he could mount a defense. Until then, his entire family was vulnerable.
Questions rolled through his mind on repeat. Was this attack on him because of some decision he had made, or had it been an attempt to force a change of power? Was the hostile force from within his sphere of influence, or had it come from another nation? And who would have benefited had the assassination attempt been successful?
The last question lingered in his mind.
He circled his office again, his gaze drawn to a seascape that had graced his wall for the past three months. The painting had been a gift from the Meridian royal family, given to him when Prince Garrett had visited with his new bride.
The two countries had been allies for centuries, but those relations had strained when King Eduard had allowed the Americans to build a naval base on his coast, ultimately increasing the military traffic in the area. Despite the recent challenges, Alejandro had hung the painting in his private workspace as a reminder of the constant battle between land and sea, a battle that man often recreated.
The thought that the Americans could be behind tonight’s attack rooted in his mind. Although several countries had expressed interest in partnering with Sereno to harvest the rich fields of natural gas in their territorial waters, the Americans had also tried to home in on his small island country, eager to explore and exploit.
More questions rose within him, but he fought them back. He didn’t need speculation. He needed details, both on how the assassins had made it past his security and on the condition of his injured guards.
A knock sounded on his door.
“Come.”
The door opened, and his captain of the guard stepped inside.
“How are your men?” Alejandro asked.
“Three dead, two wounded.” Darius clasped his hands together. “Antonio is still in surgery.”
“And the other survivor?”
“No news yet.”
The grave tone of Darius’s voice spoke volumes.
“What do you know so far?” King Alejandro asked. “Who were those men? And why did they want me dead?”
“It wasn’t you they were shooting at,” Darius said.
“Are you certain?”
“When they entered, they had a clean shot at you. They didn’t take it.”
“If I wasn’t the target, who was?”
“Princess Cassandra.”
A sharp pain pierced his heart, and he dropped into the chair behind his desk. Alejandro looked up at Darius, fighting to keep his voice calm. “Are you sure?”
“Antonio was shot pushing her out of the way. When I reviewed the security footage, their intention was quite clear. More than a dozen shots were fired at your daughter. None were fired at you.”
“Why would someone want to kill her?” Even as the question escaped him, he knew. Not waiting for an answer, he said, “Double the guard on Victoria and Anabelle.”
“I already did, and I arranged to have them moved to the villa in Switzerland.”
“Good,” Alejandro said, approving of the move. The family getaway in the Swiss Alps was heavily guarded and not known to the outside world, not even the family who would ascend to the throne if his family was no longer able to rule. “Tell me how those men made it past the gates.”
“The guards at the side gate were drugged, and another was killed by the east entrance.”
“And the patrols? How did they not see what was happening?”
“Someone told them you had requested an audience with the chefs.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” Guilt and frustration laced his words. “The call came from the phone at the guard house where my men were drugged.”
“So it could have been the attackers.”
“We believe that is the case,” Darius confirmed. “Sire, if I may. Perhaps it would be wise to have Princess Cassandra moved to a safe location until we can identify the security breach. If one of my men . . .”
“You think this is an inside job?”
“I would like time to rule out the possibility.”
Alejandro contemplated the wisdom of his captain’s suggestion, his heart torn between ensuring his eldest daughter’s safety and keeping her close to him. Logic made the decision for him. “Where do you suggest I send her?”
“Somewhere unexpected,” Darius said without hesitation. “If someone on the inside did help these men gain access to the palace, we have to assume the traitor knows the family’s patterns well.”
“Thank you, Darius. I appreciate your insight.” Alejandro’s gaze landed on the painting on the wall. “I’ll take care of the arrangements myself.”
“Yes, sire.”
CHAPTER 2
Levi strolled through the manicured gardens that spanned the wide area between the royal chateau and the Mediterranean Sea, his gaze constantly sweeping past the shrubbery, the arched trellises, and the climbing roses. As though he didn’t have a care in the world, he took a circuitous route around the garden’s edge before approaching the sea wall that separated the royal chateau grounds from the private beach.