Captured and Crowned by Janette Kenny

child when the King of Angyra chose me to be the Crown Prince’s bride,” she said. The event was clear to her, for it was the catalyst that had changed everything at their house. “From then on I received special attention by way of a tutor.”
    She frowned, recalling too that her sister’s demeanor had taken a decidedly petulant turn soon after. At the time she’d blamed the change on her stepmother’s worsening health, and her death a year later. But had there been another reason?
    Jealousy? It pained her to admit that her sister had inherited that trait from their father. That she was very much like him, which was why they constantly clashed.
    â€œWhat aren’t you telling me?” he asked, reaching across the small table again to stroke his fingers along her jaw. “What troubles you so?”
    To her surprise, a swell of emotion lodged in her throat and brought sudden tears to her eyes. “I’m fine, really.”
    â€œNo, you’re not. Why the sad face, agapi mou ? Are you pouting because I refuse to let you take over the task of conservationist?”
    â€œOf course not,” she said.
    â€œThen what is it? What do you want?”
    She knew better than confess what was in her heart. But as she stared into his dark eyes she felt a commiserating pang shoot from him to her.
    He was the second son. The one passed over. Ignored. He must understand. He must feel this connection too.
    â€œI want a husband who loves me,” she whispered.
    His sensuous mouth thinned, his hand dropping from her face. “That, I am afraid, is impossible.”
    A knife to the heart wouldn’t have hurt as much.

CHAPTER FIVE
    T HE last thing Kristo wanted to deal with when he returned to Angyra late that afternoon was unrest at the Chrysos Mine. But the death of the King followed by the abdication of the Crown Prince had tended to leave the people feeling adrift. Abandoned. Wary of how effective a King he’d be.
    The last was a worry that plagued him as well. The magnitude of his burden rested uneasily on his shoulders.
    â€œDo not expect me to join you for dinner tonight,” he told Demetria. “I have no idea when I’ll return.”
    â€œThat’s all right. I’m still stuffed from our lunch in Istanbul.”
    He doubted that, for she’d eaten like a small bird, barely picking at her meal. But if she did grow hungry she had the palace kitchen at her disposal.
    He turned to leave, but her words stopped him. “Thank you for today.”
    â€œIt was my pleasure.” And for the most part that was true. “Goodnight.”
    â€œBe careful,” she said.
    He only smiled, for nobody had ever charged him with that before. If he didn’t know better he’d swear she cared about his welfare.
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    The uproar at the mine regarded the miners’ concerns over who would be their new managerial overseer. All of thembelieved, as he and Gregor had intended from the start, that Gregor had been watching over their interests.
    A select few knew he was the man responsible for seeing to their needs, and they kept silent as he’d hoped. But even if the truth had gotten out it was too late for anyone to believe he’d held this secretive role at the mine.
    So he spent the evening listening to personal complaints and general worries. He took his time listening to each man. He didn’t judge any matter as trivial.
    By the time midnight rolled around he had the satisfaction of knowing the miners appreciated all he’d done for them. They also seemed relieved to know that Mikhael, who was a much-loved prince, would take over in his brother’s stead.
    Yet the greatest surprise was their reaction to Demetria. By and large the people loved her. And why wouldn’t they?
    She was young. Beautiful. Her effervescent smile lit up a room.
    Most importantly, it was obvious that during her annual visits to Angyra she’d mingled with the