But the dress, the diamonds, the effort she’d gone to, were working. There were cameras everywhere. She knew the world’s press. The glossy magazines liked nothing better than royalty on their front covers. So be it. She’d done the glamorous bit as a clear signal that she was a real princess.

It was a signal to Demos to lay off. It was a signal to Nikos that she was up to the task.

She was dancing with one islander after another. They were treating her with awe. What a difference a frock makes, she thought ruefully. When she was a child these men and women had obeyed the King’s ruling and had nothing to do with her.

Only Nikos and his mother had defied the King.

Nikos…He was dancing too, with one beautiful woman after another. Mr Popularity.

That was unfair, she conceded. She’d been here less than a day, but already she was being told how much Nikos had done for this island. He’d fought Giorgos every step of the way.

But…she was his tool, she thought bleakly, as the night wore on. She was a tool for Nikos to use in his fight to save the island. And as for the past…How much of that had been real and how much had it been Nikos’s desire to rule this island as he wanted it to be ruled?

The dancing ended. She needed air. She left the ballroom and the crowd parted before her as if she was…royalty.

Could she ever get used to this?

The room next to the ballroom was the great hall where dinner had been served. It was deserted now, cleared and empty. But its vast windows looked onto a balcony, and the balcony looked over the sea.

She walked out and stood at the parapet, gazing out over the ocean. Breathing the night air. Breathe in, breathe out. Try to relax.

She smelled the salt breeze from the sea. There was the scent of flowers she hadn’t seen or smelled for ten years.

She loved this island. Loved it.

‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’