Theseus Discovers His Heir

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.

She gripped her head, felt a cramping pain catching in her belly. Her emotions were riding an unpredictable roller coaster. She might as well be blindfolded for all she knew of what the immediate future would bring.

But her conscience spoke loud and clear. Toby would start school in five months and the innocence with which he looked at the world would change. He knew he had a daddy who lived in Greece, but so far that was the extent of his knowledge and his curiosity. Soon the notion of a father wouldn’t be some abstract thing but something concrete that all the other kids had and he would want too.

And didn’t Theseus deserve to know that he was a father and be given the choice to be in Toby’s life?

If only she had a crystal ball.

But no matter how much guilt she carried she could not forget that her overriding priority was her son. She would do anything to keep him safe, and if that meant keeping Theseus in the dark until she was certain his knowing could bring no harm to Toby, then that was what she must do.

* * *

Dictaphone and notepad in hand, Jo slipped through the archway into Theseus’s office. After almost two days of going through the research papers she was ready for him.

He was on the phone. His desk—which, like her own, curved to cover two walls but was twice the size—was heaped with neat piles of files and folders. His three desktop computers were all switched on.

He nodded briefly in acknowledgement and raised a hand to indicate that he wouldn’t be long.

While he continued his conversation she felt his eyes follow her as she stepped over to the window.

She loved gazing out over the palace grounds. No matter which window she looked out from the vista was always spectacular, with sprawling gardens that ran as far as the eye could see, lush with colourful spring flowers and verdant lawn, and the palace maze rising high in the distance.

When she looked back he was unabashedly studying her.

Prickles of self-consciousness swept through her. Flustered, she smoothed her sweater down over her stomach and forced her gaze back outside, scolding herself for reading anything into his contemplative study of her. Her thin cream sweater and faded blue jeans were hardly the height of fashion.

‘What can I help you with?’ he asked once he’d finished his call.

‘I’m ready with my questions for you.’