The Future King's Love-Child. Melanie Milburne

old is he?’ he asked, looking back at her again.

      Cassie felt as if his eyes were burning a pathway to her soul. ‘He’s…five or thereabouts,’ she said, shifting her gaze once more.

      ‘Too young to be all alone in the world,’ Sebastian said with deep compassion in his tone. ‘Do you know anything of his background, where he came from, who his parents were or what happened to them?’

      The hole Cassie had dug for herself was getting bigger by the moment. She could feel the fast pace of panic throughout her body, making her heart thump unevenly and her skin break out in fine beads of perspiration, some of which were even now beginning to trickle down between her shoulder blades.

      ‘Cassie?’

      ‘Um…’ She brushed a strand of hair off her face as she returned her eyes to his, the stutter of her heart painful in her chest. ‘I’m not sure of the details of every individual child’s background. All I know is the children at the Aristo orphanage are there because they don’t have anywhere else to go.’

      Sebastian laid the picture on a sideboard as if it were a priceless work of art. ‘I am very touched that a small abandoned child would take the time to do this for me,’ he said in a tone that was gravel-rough. ‘I have lived with nothing but privilege all my life so it is hard for me to imagine what it must be like to have no one you can turn to, especially when one is so young.’

      Damn right it is, Cassie silently agreed.

      He turned and looked directly at her. ‘I would like to meet this child,’ he said. ‘I would like to thank him personally.’

      Cassie felt as if her eyes were going to pop out of her head and land on the carpeted floor at his feet. She looked at him in abject horror, her mouth opening and closing like a stranded fish, her heart going so hard and fast it felt as if it were going to come through the wall of her chest. ‘I—I’m not sure that can be arranged,’ she stammered.

      He gave her a frowning look. ‘I fail to see why not. After all, I am now the royal patron of the orphanage. It is only reasonable and fair that I give my support in ways other than financial.’

      ‘Y-yes, but showing preference for one child over another is not to be advised,’ Cassie said, relieved she could think of something reasonably plausible on the spot. ‘The child who sent you this drawing is one of many who long to be noticed. You would be doing more harm than good singling any one of them out over another.’

      His gaze was still unwavering on hers. ‘What if I were to invite all the children to a special party at the palace?’ he suggested. ‘That way no one will feel left out.’

      ‘Um…I…I…’ she choked as her self-made petard gave her another sharp poke.

      ‘At the gala it occurred to me that the most important people were not at the event—the children themselves,’ he went on. ‘I had a word to my events secretary about arranging something last night.’

      Cassie was still trying to get her voice to cooperate. ‘Um…is that such a good idea?’ she asked. ‘The kids might be a little intimidated by the palace… I mean, royal protocol is off-putting enough for adults…’

      ‘My father had a hands-off approach when it came to the organisations he put his name to,’ he said. ‘I intend to do things differently, and what better place to start than the orphanage right on the palace doorstep?’

      ‘It’s hardly on the doorstep,’ Cassie said. ‘It’s practically attached to the prison.’

      He rubbed at his jaw for a moment. ‘Yes, that is true. But that is something I would like to discuss with you over lunch.’ He pulled out one of the chairs next to the small dining table. ‘Would you care to sit down?’

      ‘Thank you,’ Cassie said, immensely glad of the seat as her legs were still trembling out of control.

      She watched as he took his own seat, his longs legs brushing against hers under the table. She drew in a quick, unsteady breath and moved her legs back, but she could still sense the heat and strength of his in close proximity to hers.

      Sebastian rang a small bell, and within seconds the aide appeared pushing a trolley with several covered dishes as well as iced water and a bottle of chilled white wine.

      Cassie sat fidgeting with the neck of her uniform as the aide served them both the light lunch of char-grilled octopus and a Greek salad and fresh crusty rolls.

      ‘Would you care for some wine, Dhespinis Kyriakis?’

      ‘No…thank you,’ she said. ‘Water will be fine. Thank you.’

      ‘Thank you, Stefanos,’ Sebastian said once his wine and Cassie’s water had been poured. ‘Has a date been confirmed for the event we discussed?’

      ‘Yes, Your Highness,’ Stefanos said and handed Sebastian a slip of paper. ‘Your diary has been cleared.’

      Sebastian glanced down at the date on the paper before he folded it and slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt. ‘That was very efficient of you, Stefanos,’ he said. ‘Well done.’

      The aide bowed respectfully and left the room, closing the door softly but firmly behind him.

      Sebastian picked up his glass of wine, twirling it in his hand for a moment as he centred his gaze on Cassie. ‘You do not drink alcohol any more, Cassie?’ he asked.

      Cassie looked at the tiny condensation bubbles clinging to the outside of his crystal glass and wondered if she would ever be able to look at alcohol again without feeling shame. In the past she had done so many things while inebriated she would never have done normally. She cringed at the thought of how she had come across to so many people, Sebastian included. She had always been the life of the party, laughing and carefree as drink after drink had been consumed. Her worries had lessened with every mouthful and, even though the headaches the next morning had been unpleasant, she had been prepared to put up with some discomfort for the temporary reprieve the consumption of alcohol had given her.

      She was suddenly conscious of the stretching silence and Sebastian’s steady dark gaze on her. ‘I lost my taste for alcohol while I was in prison,’ she said quietly. ‘I haven’t touched it since.’

      ‘That is probably a good thing,’ he said. ‘I don’t drink as much as I did when I was young. I guess we have grown up, ne? A glass of wine at lunch or dinner is plenty.’

      ‘Do you ever see any of the gang we used to hang around with?’ Cassie asked once they had commenced eating the delicious salad.

      ‘The brat-pack?’ he asked with a ghost of a wistful smile.

      Cassie nodded, thinking of the hip crowd and the hangers-on they had associated with six years ago. She could almost guarantee she had been the only one to end up with a criminal record. The others were like Sebastian, out to have fun until family duty called. Not like she, who had been looking for something to take her mind off what she couldn’t quite face…

      ‘I see a few of them, of course, do business occasionally with them,’ Sebastian said, and then smiled. ‘I do not see so much of Odessa Tsoulis. Last I heard she had married a billionaire from Texas.’

      Cassie felt a small smile tug at her mouth. ‘She was rather intent on landing herself a rich husband, if I recall.’

      ‘Yes, indeed,’ Sebastian said with a small laugh. ‘She was good fun. I liked her. She was very no-nonsense if you know what I mean. What you saw was what you got.’

      ‘Unlike me.’ Cassie wasn’t sure why she had said it, much less how she was going to deal with it now it was said. She looked away from his suddenly penetrating gaze, and, picking up her fork with a tiny rattle against the plate, resumed eating, but with little appetite.

      ‘Tell me about it, Cassie,’ he pressed her gently. ‘Tell me what happened that night.’

      Cassie stared at one