Lucille’s mistress smiled with a shake of her head. “No, sir. She’s simply tired. It is to be expected in her condition. I was about to call for her lunch.”

  “Call for mine as well.”

  Lady Buckingham nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  I removed my phone from the inner pocket of my suitcoat and sent Dame Williamson a text message. I was getting better with using my left hand; however, I was ready to lose the cast and splint.

  “I WILL RETURN AT 1 P.M. RESCHEDULE MY APPOINTMENTS FOR THEN.”

  Was I sorry for the inconvenience?

  No, not at all.

  After placing my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated with a response. In another life I would have checked to see if my wishes would be granted. That was another time. As prince, I made the rules. My word was law with everyone except the king.

  I opened the door and entered Lucille’s parlor, expecting to find her on her sofa or lounge chair. The fire in the hearth crackled behind the screen, but the room was empty. Without hesitation, I continued down the hallway toward her bedchamber. Pushing the door open, I met the gaze of the beautiful woman sitting on a soft chair before another fireplace. A blanket was over her legs, and a book was in her lap.

  “Roman?”

  She closed the book.

  I didn’t stop until I was at her side, and I brushed her lips with mine. Staring into her blue orbs, I grinned. “Princess.”

  Crouching on my haunches, I covered her hand with mine. “When Lady Buckingham said you were resting, I began to panic.”

  Her smile faded. “Why?”

  “I was afraid something had happened…with you” —I moved my hand to her lower stomach— “with the baby. Did you see Mr. Davies?”

  “I did,” she said, covering my hand with hers. “He said everything is good—perfect. He did an ultrasound, and I saw the baby’s heart beat.”

  “You saw an ultrasound?” I didn’t mean for my disappointment to be audible, but it was.

  Lucille tilted her face. “Oh, my prince, I thought of waiting until you were there, but I know how busy you are.”

  “I’ll be present for the next one and each one after. I don’t care who I’m scheduled to see. You and our baby come first.”

  Her smile returned, growing larger. “I’m just under four weeks.”

  “Okay.”

  “The procedure was three weeks ago.”

  Rising from my crouch, I sat on the edge of her ottoman. “The baby is mine?”

  Lucille nodded. “I think so. I want it to be so. I’m also scared.”

  “Don’t be scared. No one will know.”

  Her chin fell. “I have so much to tell you.”

  “I too have much to tell you. I also have a horrendous schedule of meetings. I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on them until I spoke to you.” The book in her lap caught my attention. “What is that?”

  Lucille smiled. “The Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy. Mary gave it to me, right after we learned I was expecting.”

  “Didn’t you tell me you learned of the pregnancy at Forthwith?”

  She lifted the book to her chest. “Yes, Mary said she’d kept the book with her for years, waiting for the right time. That makes it even more special.”

  I let out a long breath. “The ministry guards found a positive pregnancy test at Forthwith.”

  “Oh.” Her blue eyes opened wider. “It was mine.”

  “They thought it belonged to someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “Inessa Volkov.”

  Lucille inhaled, her neck straightening. “She’s pregnant, but much further along. She wouldn’t need a test. You can tell by looking at her.”

  “You know?” I asked.

  The princess nodded as her smile disappeared. “Queen Anne told me.”

  “She knows?”

  “I think she knows much more than we thought. She said she spoke to her—the princess.”

  Shaking my head, I stood and walked back and forth before the fire. “Papa isn’t aware that Mum knows.”

  Lucille lifted her hand, beckoning me closer. “Roman, Queen Anne knows about you. She basically told me. If I would have let on that I knew what she was saying, she would know I know.”

  “Mrs. Drake said Mum knows. The chief minister said it dismissively, as if I would already know that.”

  “Everyone is lying to one another.”

  I again sat on the ottoman and placed my hands on Lucille’s blanket-covered knees. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  “The princess is here,” she said, “in the palace.”

  I nodded.

  “Who told you?”

  “The king. He wants me to talk to her.” I sighed. “Noah admitted he proposed to her in Oslo, during your tour. She told him then that she was pregnant. Now it makes sense why Francis said she was upset that I hadn’t contacted her.”

  “Queen Anne said the baby is a Godfrey, but if she knows about you, she would have known about Noah. She would understand that the child isn’t yours and isn’t a Godfrey.”

  “Tonight at dinner we will announce the baby.”

  “Queen Anne knows.”

  “The king does as well.”

  Lucille scoffed. “That doesn’t sound like much of an announcement.”

  “Papa wants you to think we’re telling them for the first time. I promise, he’s happy.”

  “Roman, they want to keep Inessa’s child, a backup if something were to happen to ours.”

  “That’s ludicrous.”

  Lucille squeezed my hand. “I’ve never spoken to her. It goes without saying that I don’t like her. She tried to ruin my marriage.” Moisture glistened in her blue orbs. “But I can’t be a part of taking someone’s child.” She shook her head. “I won’t. You need to help her escape.”

  “Fuck, Lucille. This is so fucked up.”

  A grin lightened her expression. “Yes, Your Highness. I believe that’s an accurate assessment. I won’t take another woman’s child from her, not unless it’s what she wants. You need to talk to her and learn her thoughts. Regardless of what I think of her, she is that child’s mother.”

  Once again on my feet, I spun in place. “I wish the Firm had found me sooner.” When I turned, Lucille was looking up at me. “If I were here earlier,” I tried to explain, “maybe some of the mess Noah made would never have happened.”

  “I don’t know why they found you when they did. We can’t turn back time. Instead, together, we can try to right the wrongs. Think about it. How unlikely of a pair we are. And still you’ve given me the love and trust I always sought. You’re giving Papa the heir he’s proud of and Queen Anne a son to cherish. If you had arrived earlier, maybe things wouldn’t have worked the same. The important thing is that you’re here now.”

  A knock came to the door.

  “Enter,” I called.

  “Your Highnesses,” Lady Buckingham said with a curtsy. “Your midday meal is in the parlor.”

  My focus went to Lucille. “Would you rather eat in here?”

  Her smile blossomed. “I get to eat with you. I’d do that anywhere.”

  Offering her my hand, Lucille stood and laid the blanket back on the chair. She was dressed in the same skirt and blouse from this morning.

  As I peered toward the floor, I saw that she was wearing stockings, but no shoes, making me grin. “Always without shoes.”

  “I can put the heels back on,” she offered.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  “Then there’s no need to be uncomfortable.” I bent my arm.

  Her small hand came to my elbow. “Your Highness.”

  “Come, Princess. I want a few more minutes with my wife.”

  She turned and looked up at me. “Your wife.”

  “I like the way it sounds.”

  “I do too, Your Highness.”

  Roman

  Minister of the Interior, Lord Rowlings, was the only person waiting when I made it to my offices. He and the secretaries stood as I entered a minute or two before my promised time.

  “Your Highness,” Dame Williamson said with a neck bow.

  “My other appointments?” I asked, looking around.

  She smiled. “I have numbers, and I will text.”

  I lifted my eyebrows with a nod. “I like that.”

  “I thought it was better than a room filled with impatient people.”

  “It’s a good policy. It’s time we modernize a few things.”

  “I have a few other ideas,” she said.

  “Bring them to me when I’m free. Be sure to send yourself a text.”

  “I will, Your Highness.”

  “Give me thirty minutes with Lord Rowlings, and you may text my next appointment.”

  Dame Williamson nodded.

  I turned to Lord Rowlings. “Join me.”

  “Your Highness.”

  Soon we were alone in my office.

  The plan to create the commission I’d initiated was in progress. The first round of representatives would be appointed by the Crown. Lord Rowlings had his list of suggested candidates from each province.

  “The people are excited about this direct means of communication with the Crown.”

  I looked over the list, my finger moving from one to the next. I looked up. “The names are all males.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why?”

  Lord Rowlings’s forehead furrowed. “I don’t understand your question.”

  “The list only contains men’s names,” I said, standing. “Why haven’t you proposed women?”

  Lord Rowlings got to his feet. “Well…” He looked down at the list before him and shuffled a few papers.

  “Our chief minister is a woman.” I said. “I’m confident the men you’ve chosen are respectable citizens, but I want this initiative to better represent the people of Molave, men and women.”

  “Sir, I’ve personally contacted these men. They have all agreed to represent their respective provinces. I can’t uninvite them.”

  “You can.” I pointed at the list. “You weren’t supposed to contact anyone until I approved your selections. Now, inform fifty percent of these gentlemen that the Crown is thankful for their willingness to serve. We will keep them in mind for future endeavors. And return to me by next week with a list representing our citizens. I want a breakdown on demographics: age, gender, occupation…”

  “If I may?”

  “Say what you must,” I said.

  “The men on this list are friendly to the Crown. They’ll work to inform their neighbors of any plans we have without question.”

  “Then start from scratch. I want an entirely new list.”

  “As you’re aware, there are citizens who are less than supportive of the monarchy.”

  I nodded. “I am. Those people deserve to be represented. The point of this commission is to provide an avenue allowing those with concerns to be heard. Appointing a list of yes-men will only accomplish a façade. Nothing will change.”

  “The king—”

  I lifted my hand. “I’m the prince. This commission is my idea. Bring me a new list next week.” I lifted the papers from my desk. “I will keep these.”

  Lord Rowlings squared his shoulders. “Your Highness, I apologize for contacting the gentlemen, but my intention was honorable. I wanted to bring you a list with people eager to work with you. Now, if I inform them that they won’t…well, it could be taken badly. A poor reflection on this commission.”

  Feigning a grin, I lowered my tone. “You yourself said these gentlemen are friendly to the Crown. I’m sure they’ll take the news well. Bring me what I asked for or I’ll find someone else to do it.” I looked down at my watch. “You, sir, are dismissed.”

  “Your Highness,” he said with a neck bow.

  I’d barely had time to add the interior minister’s list to a folder before Dame Williamson knocked and announced my next set of visitors, Mr. Meade and Mrs. Dawson. The two engineers had impressive resumes, both citizens of Molave and graduates of MIT. Mr. Meade returned to Molave four years ago and was approached by the Firm to work for the Crown. A slight man, he was personally responsible for many of the recent advancements and personally reached out to Mrs. Dawson to work with him.

  They both greeted me with a neck bow. “Your Highness.”

  I motioned to the conference table. “Please take a seat. I’m anxious to hear what you’ve learned.”

  The two looked at each other as they pulled out two chairs beside one another.

  Taking the seat at the head of the table, I pushed forward. “You have learned something?”

  Mrs. Dawson spoke first. “The drone was not armed, but it had the capacity.”

  “The drone could have done what?”

  She continued, “There are instances of drones dropping hand grenades, mortar shell, or other improvised explosives. This one wasn’t carrying such things. It did send an aerial view of what it could observe.”

  “Could you access the footage?”

  “No, sir. There wasn’t recording. The footage would have immediately been broadcast to the person or persons in control of the drone. Unfortunately, the transponder was too damaged to determine where it was being sent.”

  I shook my head. “What else?”

  Mr. Meade responded. “The drone itself contained parts from various origins. The casing has characteristics unique to Israel.” He paused. “While the serial numbers were ground off, the GPS system is definitely from the US.”

  “The United States?” I repeated questioningly.

  “Yes, sir,” Mrs. Dawson replied, “as were the GPS transponders found in the wheel wells of multiple cars in the royal fleet.”

  “Are you suggesting the drone was being used by Americans?”

  The two looked at one another. “We’re still trying to determine where the signals were being sent. The transponders that were used have a limited range. Even the nearest US base would be too far away.”

  “What is within the range?” I asked.

  “Within Molave,” Mr. Meade said. “And parts of Norway and Borinkia.”

  “Sir,” Mrs. Dawson said, “with the death of King Aleksander I, Borinkia’s borders are closed. However, the drone incident was before his death. Norway and Molave have open borders. The operator may have been within one of the countries but not loyal to either.”

  “You’re telling me we don’t know,” I said.

  “We know that there’s been noise buried deep on the internet of stolen arms shipments. Military supplies as well as artillery. If someone didn’t want the origin of the drone known, utilizing stolen parts to make an unidentifiable drone would fit that bill. Israel has reported loss of equipment.”

  “So have many other governments including Molave’s military,” Mr. Meade added. “Without the serial numbers, we can’t confirm that the parts were stolen.”

  What we were discussing was way out of my realm of knowledge and too important not to fully understand. “You don’t have enough for the Crown to make an accusation.” It wasn’t a question.

  They both exchanged looks. Mrs. Dawson spoke. “At this time, no, sir. We’re learning more from the transponders than the drone. And we’re still working on them. We would like to set up a mission.”

  “What kind of mission?”

  Mr. Meade answered, “With your permission, we will work with the operational head of the military, General Dickerson, to set up a decoy. If the Crown would announce plans of your continued tour with the princess, we will be sure to utilize cars with the transponders still attached and watch for another drone. We may also be able to track the transmission from the transponder back to whoever is watching them.”

  “The princess and I have decided to postpone our tour.”

  Mrs. Dawson sighed. “We hadn’t heard.”

  “I’m not sure it’s been announced.”

  “One more stop, sir,” she said. “Now that we know what we’re dealing with, we could intercept the transmissions and hopefully learn more than we now know.”

  “I won’t approve the princess being used as bait.”

  “Sir, the cars are safe.”

  I laid my left hand flat on the shiny table. “I’ll do it—alone.”

  Lucille

  “Ma’am, I’ll accompany you to the dining room,” Lady Buckingham offered.

  Pivoting, I looked up to the mantel, spying the hands and reading the time on the antique clock. “I don’t know where Roman is.”

  “Perhaps the prince was held up with work. I heard his schedule was quite full.”

  Raking my lip with my teeth, I turned toward the door, the one that led out of our apartments in Molave Palace, willing the door to open. I looked up at my mistress. “We’re supposed to tell the king and queen about the baby tonight. I don’t want to do that without him.” Tilting my head, I asked, “You haven’t heard that he’s left the palace, have you?”

  “No,” she replied with a shake of her head. Her hazel gaze again went to the mantel clock. “The king and queen…”

  Nodding, I acquiesced. The monarchs would soon arrive to the dining room. Protocol said all others attending dinner should arrive before them. Even ordinary evening meals were laced with protocol. Part of me longed to be back to Annabella, the other part was satisfied with the safety and security that came from being within the walls of Molave Palace.

  As I had throughout the day, a brief thought regarding the new guest within the palace walls came to mind.

  Is Roman with Inessa?

  Is that why he’s late?

  Inhaling, I straightened my spine. “Yes, we shouldn’t be late.”

  Only a few months ago, most of my journeys to the dining room were made alone, whether here in Molave City or back at Annabella Castle. Rarely did Roman retrieve me and if he did, our walk throughout the corridors and down the grand staircase was tense. As Lady Buckingham and I made our way down the same hallways, I recalled what it was like, that sensation of walking a tightrope. One wrong move and I’d unleash the wrath of my husband, tumbling from the air to the net below.

  A quick turn of my head and I met Mary Buckingham’s gaze. “Thank you.”