Stolvenia practically stood alone in Europe for the amount of power the royal family held. Rather than being figureheads or ceremonial figures, they actively ran the tiny, wealthy country to an extent that Katie felt she really did need to see to believe—and understand. Getting this job would be so perfect…if she could just nail the interview.

  At least she looked good. In her tiny hotel room this morning, she’d swept her dark hair into a flawless coif, added tasteful eye shadow above her chocolate brown eyes, and applied a shade of lipstick that trended toward professional woman.

  “Ms. Crestley?”

  She hopped up from her chair. “I’m so pleased—” No. Stop. “Yes. That’s me.”

  The woman who stood in the doorway to the inner office, which matched the rest of the rich interior of the palace, did not look happy to see her.

  “I’m Ms. Mirzoyan. Follow me.”

  Katie did so, waiting for the opportunity to shake the woman’s hand.

  It never came.

  The older woman, wearing a black suit over a teal blouse, went around behind the desk and flipped a folder open. “Your resume doesn’t seem to show a commitment to this kind of work, Ms. Crestley.”

  “I—” This was not how she had visualized the interview going. “I nannied full-time in college to pay my way through school. I took classes in the evening.”

  “To become a journalist.”

  Ms. Mirzoyan did not invite her to sit down, which gave Katie a sinking feeling.

  “Hiring a former journalist to care for the prince’s children is a risk,” the woman added.

  She could understand the fierceness in Ms. Mirzoyan’s eyes. The political situation was fierce—sometimes bordering on nasty—and children were always vulnerable targets. Even more so since these particular girls were new to royal life, not yet accustomed to being in the national spotlight. The prince had adopted them —Katie knew that much. But she didn’t know the details of how they’d lost their own parents.

  What could Katie say? Everything in her wanted to push for this—wanted to make it clear that she was responsible and trustworthy—but how could she prove that, even to herself? She knew that she’d made plenty of mistakes before. “I understand your caution, Ms. Mirzoyan, but I’d hoped that since you were willing to meet with me—”

  “Yes.” The older woman sighed. “It is our custom in the prince’s household to offer interviews to qualified candidates. And while you are qualified in terms of experience, I’m not convinced that you are the best candidate for the job.”

  “I do have that experience, though.” Katie gave her what she hoped was a winning smile.

  “It’s not very recent.” Ms. Mirzoyan looked down at the documents in the folder. “Unless you’ve omitted some recent experience here.”

  Lie, teased the voice of desperation in the back of Katie’s mind. A little fib about babysitting for a wealthy family in the States. Say something about a nondisclosure agreement, how you wish you could name names, but it’s impossible under the circumstances, of course you understand…

  But she couldn’t do it. “No. There’s nothing recent. I did help a young man at the train station find the ticket window last week, if that counts.”

  The joke fell flat.

  “And there’s the matter of language.”

  “Yes. Language.” Ms. Mirzoyan didn’t have to say out loud that it was obvious Katie didn’t speak the traditional local language. The country actually had three official languages, and while Katie was a native English speaker and also reasonably competent in French, the Stolvenian language was completely new to her, prior to her arrival. Of course, since the girls had been adopted from England, they were likely in the same boat. Katie reached for an appropriate way to bring that up. “I like to consider myself a neutral party.”

  Suspicion flashed through Ms. Mirzoyan’s eyes, and Katie knew immediately that she’d made a mistake. “Neutral party” made it seem like she was neutral on the matter of the monarchy versus the anti-royalists.

  “Oh—no. That’s not what I meant.”

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Crestley.”

  The tone of Ms. Mirzoyan’s voice told her that she was dismissed. Without question.

  “Yes. Yes, thank you very much for yours, Ms. Mirzoyan. Best of luck with—” Oh, god, what was she saying? “Best wishes.”

  Cringing both inwardly and outwardly, Katie went out of the office and through a connecting study. The hallway that led to the main entrance of the royal palace was wide and open, with people coming and going, and the last thing Katie wanted to do was make any kind of scene. Not to mention that it led out to the bustling courtyard, and then to the city beyond. It felt like the city itself was watching. So she rearranged her face into something like composure, tugged her purse closer to her body, and faced reality.

  That had been a disaster.

  But there was always a silver lining. And the silver lining was that she no longer had to focus any of her hope or energy on the interview. It was over and done. In the past. She’d have to pick herself up and figure out a new way to survive. For the moment, it would have to be in Stolvenia, because she didn’t have the money to keep traveling. There were plenty of shops close to the palace, though, and she would start there to see if any of them were hiring.

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