Heart of the Guardians: Adoring Destiny by Adrianna Adore (best big ereader .TXT) 📗

could truly be happy teaching at the college if she were by his side. He could walk away from the money, the power and the throne but he couldn’t turn his back on his people. Once you knew a thing, you couldn’t unknow it. Who would guard the portal? Scrimson? Pallerson? Tolley? They were old and feeble, the three of them together couldn’t even defeat the creature in the cave.

He turned to the arrogant, brash wolf man and swallowed his pride. It was a bitter pill to choke down.

“I’ll help you find the breach,” he said. “If you’ll teach me what I need to know.”

Dimitri stopped the cutting remark he was about to make, saw the earnestness in his eyes and after a moment held out his hand. James put his out to shake but the Russian clasped his elbow, stared into his eyes and waited for James to do the same.

“You are asking for powerful and secret knowledge,” he said when he did. “This I will give.”

James caught a flash of memory, his father teaching him this ceremonial handshake when he was four or maybe five years old, shortly before they were killed in the crash. It was the oath of the ancients. A solemn promise that shouldn’t be taken lightly or ever broken.

“You are asking me to enter the portal to find a breach in your lands,” he said. “This I will do.”

They held their clasp for another moment, each measured the other and finally broke off when a helicopter zoomed in and hovered over the cabin. A basket was being lowered to load the grievously injured.

10

Preparations

“Oh my God, would you look at the view?” Dana exclaimed as she opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony.

Claire joined her and they took in the city lights below. There was a festive atmosphere and parties had spilled out of the bars and homes and into the streets. When they asked the driver why everyone was so happy, he’d explained it was their tradition. They had been in mourning for three days. Everyone had worn black and all the shops had been closed. It was a period of reflection and sadness at their loss. Now it was time to celebrate the King’s long life, his wise rulings and toast his passage from this world to the next. They wanted him to look down from the heavens to see the prosperity and joy of his people, not sorrow and gloom.

The palace was an incredible mix of old and new. It stood on a plateau carved into the mountain side and it sprawled over acres of manicured grounds. Its’ spires and witches hat roofs climbed skyward, its’ walls were hung with intricate tapestries and they admired it as they were led from the car to the living areas. The impeccably dressed butler gave them a brief history of the Galadorian Palace before he introduced them to Mrs. Schwartz at the entrance of the living quarters. She was a stout German woman who was head of the household.

She took them to a suite with a central living area and two sumptuous bedrooms, both with private baths. Fresh fruit was in a bowl on the table and Mrs. Schwartz herself escorted them through the apartment, then assured them anything they needed or desired was only a phone call away.

“I’ll just tidy up a bit,” she had said. “The view from the balcony can be rather lovely this time of the evening.”

As they stood and watched the sun set over the city. Mrs. Schwartz cleared her throat then held an envelope for each of them, their names written in calligraphy on the thick, creamy paper.

“These are for you,” she said, letting them think she had just discovered them.

They thanked her, then admired them before carefully prying them open. They were too lovely to tear.

They were handwritten notes beautifully scripted with a fountain pen.

Mrs. Schwartz stepped back into the immaculately clean living area and busied herself for a moment, pretending to wipe at a speck of dust off the counter. She was trying to linger as long as possible; she knew what was in the envelopes, Frank had enlisted her aid and she’d been working frantically all afternoon putting together a plan.

“But you can’t give them time to think about it,” he’d warned. “They might say no.”

“Wow.” Dana said as she slid her thumb across the fine paper. “Frank has invited me to dinner and dancing. Think I should accept?”

“Me too!” Claire said and read the short note again.

“What? That jerk asked you out too?”

“No, silly. James.”

The girls stared at each other for a moment before they both squealed, grabbed each other’s hands and started jumping up and down.

“Wait!” Dana said and abruptly stopped. “What are we going to wear?”

Claire’s grin of happiness turned to one of uncertainty.

“We have all those outfits we bought in Paris and Vienna. One of those will be fine,” she said, but doubt crept into her voice

What does one wear when going out to dinner and dancing with a prince and his most trusted advisor? Would it be a private affair or would they be out in public with people taking pictures? They both ran inside the apartment and started peppering the Head of Household with questions, asked her what she thought, how would one dress for the occasion? Where were they going? Should they dress casual or maybe a little more formal? What kind of dancing? Claire was shy on the dance floor but Dana was usually the center of attention when she was in the mood. What would be expected of them?

“Let me see what you have,” Mrs. Schwartz said. “I’m sure you have something suitable.”

They grabbed their suitcases and hurriedly emptied them, dumping the designer labels out onto the couch.

“This is it?” she asked when they were finished and looked at her expectantly, both biting their lips in trepidation at her disapproving gaze at their clothes.

They nodded, hope in their eyes.

“Let me see