Yes. She had prominent cheekbones.

  Inessa curtsied to Queen Anne and took a seat in the chair across from us. “Your Majesty, I didn’t realize we wouldn’t be alone to speak.”

  The queen smiled. “I invited Princess Lucille. It seems that my son has delegated your care to his wife.”

  Her light blue stare came my way. “You? Why you?”

  “Roman knows very little about the needs of an expectant mother.” I laid my hand over my stomach. “He’s learning. As for you, he wants what is best for you and your child.”

  “His child,” she said under her breath.

  “That is to be determined,” I replied.

  Sniffing, Inessa turned her attention to the queen. “What does this mean?”

  “You have asked for political asylum, and King Theodore granted your request. The royal council to the king is looking into a different location for your stay.”

  “What is wrong with here?”

  I had the answer on the tip of my tongue. However, it was my reverence for the queen, not the Borinkian princess, that kept me silent.

  “You are a princess,” the queen said. “You should have more space.” Before Inessa could respond, the queen continued, “I’ve been told your child is due in May of this year.”

  Inessa nodded.

  “You will be well cared for until that time.”

  “And after?” she asked, a twinge of panic in her voice. “My brother won’t allow me to enter Borinkia with Prince Roman’s child. Neither of us will be safe.”

  “The king and his council will evaluate the situation at that time.” The queen squared her shoulders. “Child, it would behoove you to be honest with me. Is there any possibility that the child you’re carrying isn’t my son’s?”

  Inessa laid her arm protectively over her baby bump. “I swear.”

  “Mr. Davies has informed me that at this stage of a pregnancy, the risk with amniocentesis is small, less than one percent. I took your concerns to King Theodore; however, he has discussed it with Roman, and they have decided you will undergo the test.”

  “Het.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention as I moderated my tone. “Princess, I don’t know much about Borinkia. I do know Molave. In Molave, you do not say no to the queen.”

  Her volume rose. “No one can make me have a test.”

  “That is where you’re mistaken,” I replied. “In Molave, King Theodore and Prince Roman have final word in all matters. As Queen Anne stated, Roman has asked me to be the one to personally deal with you. I agree with the king and prince. The paternity of your child must be ensured.” I decided to use a different tactic. “Once it is proven that the baby is of Godfrey descent, we will make more permanent arrangements for you and the child.”

  She shook her head. “I will make my own decisions.”

  “Not in Molave,” the queen said definitively. “Mr. Davies is expecting you tomorrow morning at nine.”

  I forced a smile. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

  Her invisible eyebrows knitted together. “You? No.”

  “If, for whatever reason, you miss your appointment,” Queen Anne said, “guards will arrive and escort you.”

  “This isn’t right.”

  I inhaled. “You are always free to revoke your petition for asylum and leave Molave.”

  The princess’s gaze went to Queen Anne. “You would be okay with me taking your grandchild?”

  “No, Inessa, I would not. I suggest you do as you’ve been told.”

  She stood. “I want to speak to Roman.”

  Since the queen was still sitting, I too remained seated. “I am your communication with Roman, Inessa. I will ensure that your mistress has my mistress’s number. If you have any concerns or unmet needs from this time forward, you will bring them to me.”

  “I won’t have the test.”

  “Then I don’t believe that is Roman’s child.”

  “Son,” Inessa said louder. “His son. Do you not believe that he would make love to me?”

  Noah.

  Make love.

  I almost laughed. “We can resume this conversation after we have the results.”

  The door to the hallway opened without a knock. The two guards and Lady Kornhall entered. After a quick curtsy, she spoke to Queen Anne. “Your Majesty, you are needed with the king.” She looked at me. “And you, Princess.”

  A cold chill scattered over my flesh as my fingers flew to my lips. “Something is wrong.”

  “Please come with me,” Lady Kornhall said.

  My heart galloped in my chest as I thought about Roman’s meeting in Brynad.

  “Lucille,” the queen said. She was already standing. Somehow, I’d missed the last few seconds.

  Nodding, I stood, my head in a fog and my knees suddenly weak.

  The queen was a few paces ahead of me. My gaze went to the princess. “I will ensure your lady has my lady’s number.”

  Her next comment was spoken so softly, I could have missed it. Maybe I imagined it. As looming concern enveloped me, I was uncertain.

  “You were supposed to be with him.”

  Similar to a slap on the cheek, her words pulled me from my trance. “What did you say?”

  She lifted her chin and kept her volume low. “American. Daughter of a Letanonian cunt.”

  Ignoring my desire to cause bodily harm, I squared my shoulders. “Perhaps you have not heard the saying ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you.’” With that, I stepped away, catching the queen just outside the apartments.

  Roman

  A few hours ago

  With Lord Martin at my side, I hurried through the palace corridors. As we approached my offices, an echo of voices came into range, speeding our steps.

  “Your Highness,” the staff said, standing with a bow as I entered.

  My attention was divided between Dame Williamson and the voices coming from beyond the closed door of a conference room. “What’s happening?”

  “Sir, the chief minister is inside with the minister of the interior, as well as General Dickerson, members of the royal cyber-security team—”

  “What the hell?” I interrupted.

  “Yes, sir.” My secretary’s expression reflected the tension at whatever was happening.

  Inhaling, I took a quick look at Lord Martin before heading toward the closed door. The royal guard manning the entry offered a neck bow before opening the door. The loud voices immediately ceased, as all sets of eyes turned to me. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Your Highness,” the group said in unison as they stood to their feet.

  A quick turn and a nod to the guard at the door and he closed the barrier.

  With my pulse thumping in my ears, I motioned to the chairs around the table. “Sit and explain.”

  The exchange of glances and murmurs didn’t go unnoticed as we all took seats, me at the head of the conference table. My gaze moved around the table, finally settling on the person who ranked highest below me. “Mrs. Drake?”

  She exhaled. “Sir, the Royal Ministry cyber-security team has been listening to increased chatter since the announcement of your and the princess’s visit to Brynad.”

  “The trip was announced before the first of the year.”

  Lord Rowlings spoke. “Sir, the threat level has gone up since then.”

  I felt my forehead furrow. “Borinkia?”

  “Not entirely, sir,” Mrs. Drake said. “The main threat seems to be coming from an extremist group out of Norway.”

  “What is the group called?”

  “Unofficially,” Lord Rowlings said, “they’re a European branch of the Lads’ Guild.”

  “The Lads’ Guild,” Mrs. Drake said, “was founded in Australia. Their movement has recently started to make their presence known in Europe.”

  “Why would they target the Godfreys?”

  The room grew eerily quiet.

  Finally, Lord Rowlings replied, “Their motive is unknown.”

  My gaze settled on Mrs. Drake. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Her jaw clenched, tightening the muscles along the sides of her face.

  “Mrs. Drake,” I said louder. “I will not ask again.”

  Her gaze darted to Lord Rowlings and back to me before she exhaled and pressed her lips into a straight line. “Sir, the members of this extremist group are considered to be purists.”

  Purists?

  “How does that factor into this?”

  “It seems that they were first noticed by the Royal Ministry cyber-security team after you and Princess Lucille visited Odnessa.”

  I shook my head. “That was last November.”

  “Your Highness,” one of the unnamed security members at the table said.

  “Your name, sir.” I demanded.

  “Hastings, Oscar Hastings, I oversee the royal cyber-security team.”

  “Hastings,” I said, “tell me what you know.”

  He shook his head. “We don’t know with certainty, Your Highness. We are only able to collect the clues and make assumptions.”

  “And your assumptions say that there is an increased risk of danger with today’s trip to Brynad?”

  He nodded.

  “Don’t be shy, Hastings.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “In Odnessa you made an announcement. It hadn’t been cleared by the ministry.”

  “Announcement,” I said, remembering. “Yes, about the marriage blessing. I did.”

  “From what we can assess, your announcement was not welcomed by those who consider themselves purists. As you recall, when Princess Lucille first came to Molave there were rumors of unhappy citizens.”

  There was no way for me to remember that. At that time, I was blissfully unaware that Molave existed. My eyebrows knitted together. “The princess has always had a high approval rating.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Drake interjected. “Amongst the vast majority of Molavian citizens and abroad. It was incels who weren’t happy about the monarchy marrying an American.”

  “Are you saying that this group is targeting Lucille?”

  Hastings nodded. “Before your announcement in Odnessa, this group seemed pacified with your marriage woes. They consider the Borinkian princess to be of like lineage.”

  “Lucille’s heritage goes back to Letanonia.”

  Mrs. Drake spoke, “Most members of these groups are young. Borinkia has been in existence for nearly four decades. They don’t remember Letanonia.”

  Hastings met my gaze. “They’re not happy that it appears you and Princess Lucille are working out your problems.”

  Closing my eyes, I exhaled as I gritted my teeth. With a shove, I pushed my chair from the table and stood; all occupants around the table followed suit. “Who the hell are these people that they think they have a right to even have an opinion?”

  “Your Highness,” Mrs. Drake said, her tone pacifying. “You’re correct. They have no right. They are also dangerous and tied to other factions.” She looked across the table at Lord Rowlings.

  “Sir,” he said, “we recently discovered that the Lads’ Guild may be funded by citizens in Norway. These people have been around for decades. They were rumored to have been instrumental in Borinkia’s success against Letanonia.”

  Francis.

  Placing both hands on the table, I leaned forward, meeting Lord Rowling’s stare. “Tell me if that group has a connection to the Duke of Wilmington.”

  “It is believed so, sir.”

  “Believed.” I repeated the word, each time louder. “I need more than belief. If I’m going to accuse my sister’s husband, I need proof.”

  A rather thin man lifted his hand.

  “Yes? Name?”

  “Meade, Your Highness. We met awhile back about the drone. I’m one of the engineers who dissected it and inspected the transmitters.”

  “Right,” I said, “I remember now. What are you able to add?”

  “We have refined our ability to track the signals from the transmitters. If a car is driven to Brynad as planned, we could possibly determine where the transmissions are being sent and who is receiving them.”

  Mrs. Drake shook her head. “Your Highness, it isn’t worth risking your life.”

  Standing tall, I ran one hand over my hair. “And then what? Lucille and I spend the next fifty years hiding from these people?”

  “There are other ways,” she said.

  I looked at Mr. Meade. “You think you can track the transmission?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  My focus went to the one man who had remained quiet. His royal uniform was decorated with his obvious accomplishments. “General Dickerson, I assume you’re involved in this planning. Are you prepared with the means and personnel to apprehend the culprits?”

  “If the perpetrators are in Molave, yes, sir. If they are in Norway or Borinkia, by chance, we do not have jurisdiction.”

  “Have you contacted the Norwegian authorities?”

  “No, sir. Not without your approval or that of King Theodore.”

  “The car is armored, right?” I asked the room.

  “Yes,” Hastings answered.

  I peered around, sensing there was more. My gaze returned to General Dickerson.

  He inhaled. “The car can withstand bullets. The concern is explosives. Particularly, shrapnel in the case of an explosion. The royal armored fleet was upgraded. The cars have a second layer of protection, the first to absorb the energy of a blast and a second to protect the occupants. In theory.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “In theory.”

  “The extra layer has done very well in tests. Fortunately, we have never had to learn if it works. I suggest we don’t do so today.”

  “And what?” I asked, shaking my head. “Would this group risk harming citizens in Brynad or is the greater risk on the more isolated roads?”

  “There’s no way to know for sure,” Mrs. Drake said. “Taking out the Godfrey line of succession would have a more powerful effect if it was done without harming innocent people.”

  “I don’t want to purposely put the citizens of Brynad in danger.”

  “Your Highness,” Mrs. Drake said, “please don’t consider putting yourself in danger.”

  “If I don’t, they win.”

  The chief minister squared her shoulders. “Prince Roman, may we speak privately?”

  A quick glance at my watch told me our time was limited. “Excuse us,” I said to the rest of the table. Once the room was cleared, I retook my seat at the head of the table. “Mrs. Drake?”

  “Sir, you were planning on being a decoy. That’s what you said. You wouldn’t allow the princess to be the target.”

  Leaning back, I sighed. “I can’t believe she is the target. Just because she’s an American. Hell, if they only—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Never utter those words.”

  “I want this danger under control before the States tour. I want these lunatics found.”

  “Would you please consider an alternative?”

  Roman

  I didn’t know that there was a situation room in Molave Palace. Of course, I couldn’t let on that I was unaware.

  Lord Martin took me up the stairs Lucille had described. Once in the queen’s parlor, we went to the king’s side of the apartments. Through another hidden staircase, we made it to the king’s offices. The safe room was located through a series of locked doors, in a bunker below the king’s offices. There was only one entrance, hidden and guarded. The room itself required a recognition sensor, scanning the eyeball of the guard. According to Mrs. Drake, the room hadn’t been used in over five years, and yet the technology was new with improved Wi-Fi speed. With one wall filled with screens, we were able to watch the royal fleet from various angles, including from the windshield of the car I was supposed to be in.

  General Dickerson, Mrs. Drake, Hastings, and I had only been in the room for less than fifteen minutes when King Theodore entered. Everyone within stood, bowed their neck, and offered his majesty our greeting.

  When I looked up, his dark stare was on me. I felt his eyes in a way I never knew possible. In a matter of seconds, they assessed and judged. In that moment, I wasn’t certain I’d made the right decision. It wasn’t until the edge of his lips moved and he nodded that I dismissed the idea that I’d somehow failed Molave and failed him.

  “Roman,” he said with a quirk of his neck.

  I followed King Theo into the hallway. A guard opened a second door, and together we stepped inside a private room. It took a moment, but King Theo pulled back a chair and sat with a ‘humph.’

  “Are you confident?” he asked.

  I shook my head. I was about to admit that I wasn’t when I stopped, inhaled, and straightened my neck. “Yes, sir, I am. I’m also worried.”

  “Why?”

  “The threat is real. In the other room, we are able to see a barrage of numbers, coordinates, and pinpoints on the map. The transmitter on the car is doing its job, sending a signal. The cyber security tells me that they know it’s being ricocheted off various points to camouflage the receiver. Nevertheless, the car is being tracked.

  “He could use this opportunity to destroy us.”

  King Theodore’s statement took me back to the cell below the infirmary where Noah made the same statement.

  Turning the key, I entered Noah’s room. Maybe it was my expression or the pace of my steps. I may never know what caused him to expect the worst, but he did.

  “I’m going to die today,” he said.

  I shook my head. “I hope not.”

  Noah stood. The pajamas he wore hung from his shrinking frame. “How?”

  “You’re not sentenced to die, Noah. There’s a situation.” For the next few minutes, I did my best to lay out what was happening. The Firm didn’t want to bow to the pressure of the extremists—I didn’t. If we did bow, we would never recover. I needed to go to Brynad, to face the commissioner and address the crowd. The bulk of the meeting was meant to be in private, between Lord Rowlings, the newly appointed commissioner, and me. Addressing the crowd was only important in making an appearance.