I didn’t know how to feel as I faced the ghosts of my past. Our life in America was so completely removed from the life we had here. My parents had changed…not that they had ever been the hugs and kisses type of parents. A staff of nursery maids, and eventually a governess, raised Effie and me. But all that changed when we ran from Kalopsia. My parents had reveled in their positions in court, but once we moved to America, they had to find a new social circle; they had to work for the same respect that the people of Kalopsia had afforded them. They went from being big fish in a small pond to small fish in a big pond and the transition hadn’t been easy, or kind. I suppose that was what happened when someone put their value in their position in society rather than in who they were as a person.
“Are we going in?” Frankie asked.
“Yeah,” I breathed, stepping across the property line and into the estate. I expected to be assaulted by the memories, but it wasn’t as brutal as I worried it would be. Yes, there were memories, but they were hazy and soft, like old photographs.
“Wow,” Frankie breathed as she stepped into the foyer.
The big double wooden door was barely holding onto its hinges and was soft with rot, but the view from the foyer was as spectacular as I remembered it. From the doorway you could see straight through and out to the balcony that overlooked the sea. The wide archway perfectly framed the view and the stone balustrade was low enough to not interfere with it.
As for the house itself, it was dirty and dusty and none of the paintings or tapestries that I remembered were where they used to be. The walls—the entire villa—was stripped and only bits and pieces of broken furniture and other detritus remained.
It was sad, but it was also foreign enough to give me a sense of disconnectedness. There was no familiarity of a well-loved couch or a vase that the housekeeper always filled with bright-colored blooms. All of those little touches—the touches that made a house a home—were gone and what was left was an empty shell.
“I can’t believe you grew up here,” Frankie said as I joined her on the balcony. She leaned against the stone balustrade…leaned over the balustrade, enough so that my heart picked up in panic.
“Frankie, step back,” I said.
“What? Why?”
“You could fall,” I said, reaching for her and pulling her into my chest, winding my arms around her waist to keep her close and away from the edge. “We don’t know how stable that wall is.”
Frankie huffed, but didn’t move out of my embrace. “That wall has been there for generations,” she said. “It was probably built a thousand years ago.”
“Exactly,” I replied, although I wasn’t sure the villa was quite that old. “Which is why it needs a structural audit before you lean on it.”
Frankie sighed and melted against me. “It is so beautiful here,” she murmured. “It must have been hard for your parents to leave it behind.”
“I don’t know if they found it hard or not. I know they were scared. They were losing everything and I think by the time we finally escaped it was more of a good riddance. They knew they could survive the invasion and thrive somewhere else. I don’t know if my parents ever spared another thought for Kalopsia. At least not until the king contacted them.”
Frankie turned in my arms and looked up at me. “How did your meeting with the king go?” she asked, blinking up at me, her face open and curious.
I wanted to kiss her.
I also knew I shouldn’t.
“It was good,” I replied, dragging my eyes away from her lips before my willpower dissolved. “He wants me to help with the economic situation.”
“And how do you feel about that? I know you prefer to be in the background doing all the data entry and not the predicting stuff. Do you think you’ll want to stay?”
There was an odd note in her voice that I didn’t recognize and didn’t want to try to decipher.
“I think I do, actually,” I replied. “I feel good being here and when the king asked me to look over the finances, I was excited to do it and not the least bit nervous.”
“Number nerd,” Frankie said with a nudge to my chest before she turned around again to look out to the view.
I chuckled. “I am and proud of it,” I said. “I feel really different being here. I don’t even know how to explain it.”
Frankie tipped her head up to look at me. “You look different too,” she said, her eyes scanning my face. “More relaxed and less stressed. Kalopsia looks good on you.”
I gazed down at her, a whole lot of words on my tongue that I knew I couldn’t say. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” I said.
“Me too,” she replied.
Francesca
Lucas was in a somber mood after visiting his family’s compound—not that I could blame him. I’d never moved house. The closest I’d come was moving from my childhood bedroom upstairs to the third floor in Mom and Dad’s brownstone. I couldn’t even imagine what it was like for Lucas to see his childhood home in such disrepair. It was a beautiful building and I could speculate that in its heyday it was spectacular. Seeing it looking so unloved and abandoned had to be depressing.
I clung to his hand as we walked out the front door and toward the waiting car. “Do you feel like seeing some of the town?” I asked.
He smiled sadly down at me. “Sure.”
When we got to the car, the driver was waiting for us. His name was Deacon, and I’d chatted with him a little on our drive to the Andino estate. He told me he had a son, Griffin, who was studying in America and who he hoped would come home soon.
“Deacon,” I said as he opened the door for us to climb into the car.
“Yes, Ms. Davenport?”
“I told you to call me Frankie,” I admonished lightly. “Lucas and I want to see some of the town. Not the tourist bits, but the real bits, the places where the locals hang out.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea—”
“Of course it is,” I said, cutting him off. “Kalopsia isn’t dangerous, is it?”
“No more than any other city,” he replied. “But I’m sure Lord Andino—”
“Lucas, please,” Lucas said. “And I think it’s a brilliant idea. Frankie is doing a research paper on how the country is changing under the rule of the new king.”
Deacon nodded. “Okay. I know just the place to take you,” he said. “You might even remember some of the people,” he said to Lucas. “Or rather, they might remember you.”
We climbed into the car and I could barely sit still with excitement. The palace was lovely and meeting the king and queen and the other members of the royal court was great, but what I really loved about traveling was getting to know the locals. I loved finding out their stories and their backgrounds and what life was really like through their eyes and not just though the eyes of a travel blogger or tourism brochure.
“If we’re going to mix with the locals, you should probably know that the town has a name.”
I turned to look at Lucas. “Isn’t it Kalopsia?”
He grinned. “That’s the name of the island. The town surrounding the palace is called Kallos.”