by Katie Knight
“Sure thing.” Annie patted him on the back. “Have a seat.”
He settled in across from Esme, looking far too gorgeous for his own good in a pale-blue turtleneck sweater that set off his beautiful eyes, and a pair of camel-colored trousers that cupped his taut butt to perfection. She shook off her heated thoughts and focused on the tabletop instead.
“How’d your meeting with Greaves go?” Z asked.
“He said parliament was considering canceling the Christmas Markets this year due to security threats. I told him no, not under any circumstances.”
“I’m not surprised they wanted to cancel them.” Z sat back, his tone annoyed. “You should have let them.”
“What? Why?” Now it was Esme’s turn to feel annoyed. “Those markets are a huge draw for tourism here in Prylea. Not to mention, they bolster the national morale. Giving into threats will play right into the fears Silvester has been manipulating all over the country.”
“Yes, but you have no idea how dismal the current state of national security is here, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and lowering his voice. “While you spent your morning with Greaves. I spent mine in the security offices going over all the stuff I missed while we were gone. Seriously, Es. The military here is spread way too thin, no thanks to your cousin, who spent the last two months slowly dismantling everything your father tried to build up. When you left to go to the States, along with your father, that left Silvester as the highest-ranking member of the royal family left in Prylea. Most of the power and authority stayed in your hands, but he can still take certain, limited actions that directly relate to national security as long as he gets approval from the parliament.”
“Ugh. And he’s got enough allies in the government to back him up. He’s also smart and good at PR.” All Es’s energy and enthusiasm from earlier deflated, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exhausted. She slumped in her seat. “What else is he cooking up, I wonder?”
“I don’t know, but I do know what I plan to do. With your permission, princess.” He looked at her, his blue eyes warm and earnest. She nodded. “Good. Okay. First, I want to freeze the current security measures and up the protection for you and your father. With the baby coming that will only invite more death threats.” Her eyes widened and he reached over to take her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”
“But I do worry, that’s the problem,” Es said, pulling free. “I worry that I’ve become too dependent on you. I realize it’s your job to protect me, but what do I do afterward?”
Annie carried over a tray with their food and placed it down. Both Esme and Z thanked her, staying silent until she’d walked away.
“Es, I’m only trying to help here,” Z said, placing his napkin in his lap before slathering fresh butter onto his bread.
“I know, but I need to be strong myself. I told Greaves to pull security from the palace to use if needed at the Christmas Markets. That order stands. We cannot cancel the markets. Not this year. Too much is at stake.”
“Exactly!” Z said, before lowering his voice again. “Too much at stake. That’s exactly why we need to cancel them, or at least cut them in half. Listen, we need more time, more information, before you make any final decisions here.”
“No. I don’t. The Christmas Markets are a Prylean tradition. The country needs them, and it’s my responsibility to act in the nation’s best interests. We do it my way.”
“Even if your way leaves your father at risk?” Z asked, his lips compressed. “Please don’t make me do this, Es. I don’t want us to fight about this. We need to display a united front, now more than ever. But if it means keeping you and your father safe, I will do whatever it takes.” He sighed and hung his head. “Even if it means going over your head to Greaves to make it happen. I know the rules. If the head of security has reason to believe a monarch’s life is in danger, they can petition to have even the ruler’s orders changed.”
“You wouldn’t,” Esme said, stopping mid-bite of bread, her eyes narrowed and her tone accusatory. She liked Z, far more than was wise, but she would not put up with being bullied. Not by him, not by anyone. “Don’t cross me.”
“Then don’t make me do it,” Z countered, standing firm. “Just think about what I said. I love a good Christmas Market myself, but not at the expense of you and our baby and the king’s safety.”
Hungry as she was, Esme couldn’t take another bite of the delicious soup until she dealt with this mess. She tamped down her anger and did her best to respond calmly. “Look, I appreciate the difficult position this puts you in, but I will not give up on this. Prylea does not have a history of violence or attacks. We are a neutral country, like Switzerland, and do our best to fly under the political turmoil radar. The threats are an attempt to create anxiety and discord to destabilize our country, and that’s something I can’t allow. That will only give credence to Silvester’s narrow-minded, nationalistic cause in the eyes of the people. He’s trying to rally everyone to his side through fear—but I’m going to counter that with authority and tradition. I’m the daughter of the king, and I’m carrying our next ruler. I intend to make an announcement tomorrow to the public about our son. That, along with the festivities surrounding the Christmas Markets, should put an end to his machinations once and for all.”
Z gave a derisive snort and shook his head, his expression peeved. “Well, it will put an end to some things all right, quite possibly including you.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Esme glanced over to see Annie and the kitchen staff doing their level best to ignore the fight raging between her and Z, though she’d lay money they were all eavesdropping shamelessly. Still, she wasn’t giving up this battle now. “What can he do? Silvester’s greedy, but he’s not stupid. If he tried to pull something now, he’d be caught.”
“Not necessarily.” Z’s tone was ice cold. “The guy’s pissed. He’s not thinking rationally about any of this at this point. And what if he’s already laid the groundwork for a coup, huh? Maybe he already got it all in place before we returned and he’s just waiting to spring it on us. A chaotic Christmas Market seems like it’d be the perfect place, at least to me. But then what do I know, right? After all, I’m not a native Prylean. I don’t understand your traditions.”
She barely avoided a wince at him throwing her words back in her face. “That isn’t what I meant. And if he does have something planned, you’ll discover it. That’s your job and you’re the best at what you did. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
A muscle ticked near his tight jaw. “You’re not thinking clearly, princess. Perhaps your hormones have—”
Yep. That did it. An audible gasp came from the kitchen staff as Esme tossed down her napkin and rose to her feet, spine straight and shoulders squared. “Excuse me? My hormones have nothing to do with this. I am Princess Esme, her royal highness of Prylea. You are my fiancé, and the head of my security team. Nothing more. You have no power here to make judgments about me or my decisions. If you’d care to continue in either of those roles, I’d suggest you remember that.” Her stomach cramped as another thought occurred, sending what she thought she knew about the man before her careening down a different path. Gaze narrowed, she stared into his chilly blue eyes. “Is that why you agreed to marry me? Did you think that by becoming my prince consort that you’d gain political power here? I sincerely hope not, because I can guarantee you that won’t happen. Not after your snide comments about my hormones just now. How dare you come in here and deign to think you control me. I thought this was an equal partnership between us, one with respect, but it appears I was mistaken. Consider yourself hereby removed from your position as head of my security team.”
“Wait a damned minute!” Z rose to his feet as well, dots of crimson lining his high cheekbones. “I meant no disrespect and you know it. We’ve both joked about all the changes you’re going through with this pregnancy, and I’ve never once doubted
or questioned your abilities. You can’t fire me. You’ll never find anyone whose more passionate about protecting you or our baby, or this country. No one. Es, please. I—”
“Sir?” A guard stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, out of breath. “I’m sorry to interrupt you lunch, sir, but I thought you’d want to know right away. There’s been a bomb scare at the Christmas Markets.”
Esme gripped the edge of the table tightly as her world tipped on its axis. Z immediately rushed to her side and eased her back down into her seat, kneeling beside her as she took several deep breaths to regain her equilibrium. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No, your highness,” the guard said. “Luckily, the military bomb squad was able to diffuse it without incident.”
“Thank goodness.” The blood pounded in her ears and heat prickled her cheeks. Z had his hand on the nape of her neck, stroking gently as if settling a spooked horse. His whispered words offered soothing comfort and that was the problem. She’d become too dependent on the comfort he offered, to the point where she’d allowed him to cloud her judgment when it came to ruling her country. That was unacceptable. Slowly, she pulled free of his touch and forced herself to stand once more, ignoring the weight of his stare burning through her. She concentrated on the guard instead. “Can you take me to the security offices? I’d like to be briefed on the latest developments, please.”
The guard’s gaze darted from her to Z then back again. “Of course, your highness. Allow me to escort you.”
Hard as it was, she left Z behind in the kitchens and followed the guard to the busy command center of palace security, not looking behind her to see if he accompanied them. Inside the briefing room, the walls were lined with computers and monitors and men talking on Bluetooth headsets to various law enforcement officials.
“Over here, your highness,” the guard said, directing her to an open station where she could sit and watch everything happening on the monitors in front of her. The line of security men bowed as she passed them. At last, she was able to concentrate on the images flickering on the screen before her while the guard explained what was happening.
“There,” he said, pointing toward a spot in the upper-right-hand corner of the screen. “They found a homemade incendiary device in that trash can near the train station. As I said, the squad was able to diffuse it without incident. From what we’ve been told, it was crudely made and most likely wouldn’t have detonated anyway, but better safe than sorry.”
“Yes,” she murmured, still staring at the screen. This was exactly why they needed more manpower at the markets and this gave her the perfect argument to all but ensure her father would agree to pulling guards from the palace to accommodate her wishes. A sense of vindication swelled inside her chest, along with confidence. Perhaps she could do this on her own. Rule the country, raise her child. If this was any indication, her instincts were exactly on target. She could only hope that signaled that she would get the job done and do it in style. Esme swiveled in her chair to face the guard. “I’d like to schedule a press conference for later this afternoon. We can reassure people about what happened here with this bomb scare and then I have a few personal announcements to make. Can you coordinate that for me with the staff, please?”
The guard’s eyes widened slightly. “Uh, I can, your highness, but shouldn’t Mr. Raybourn—”
Esme held up a hand, her chin raised. “No. Mr. Raybourn has been relieved of his duties as head of my security team. For the time being, all security questions will be directed to me personally, understand?”
“Yes, your highness,” the guard said, looking wary. “I’ll get with the PR staff now.”
“Thank you.” Esme left the briefing room and headed back toward the kitchens, only to find Z gone. When she questioned Annie about his whereabouts, all she said was the that he’d stormed out shortly after she’d left. No notice of where he was going. It was just as well, Esme supposed. She’d need to get used to dealing with matters without his support. She turned and headed for her father’s rooms instead, eager to tell him about what had happened at the markets and get his agreement to pull guards from the palace. But when she walked into his private suite, the king was nowhere to be found, there was only Z standing by his bedside. “What are you doing here?” she asked, fear tightening her chest. “What’s happened to my father?”
Z looked slowly from the rumpled sheets on the empty bed to her. “He’s taken a turn for the worse, princess. They’ve rushed him to the hospital.”
Esme placed her hand against the wall, the lack of food and the mounting stress taking its toll on her wobbly knees. Z was at her side once more, slipping his arm around her waist to keep her from falling. “We need to go to the hospital, now. I want to be with my father.”
“Of course, princess.” Z helped her toward the door. “I’ll have the car brought around now.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
By the time they arrived at the hospital, the king was heavily sedated. Z was worried about Es. Not only because of the argument they’d just had back at the palace, but also because of the added stress of losing her father. Based on the reports he’d gotten from the doctors and staff, Z didn’t think the man had much time left on earth.
“Papa,” Es said, rushing to his bedside, while Z held back, wanting to give them some privacy. He’d directed the rest of the security to watch the halls and elevators and had taken over guarding the king himself for now. It wasn’t protocol, but Z didn’t care at that point. The most important thing at this moment was making sure Es got the closure she needed.
“Are you comfortable?” she said, fussing with the king’s sheets and pillows, a slight catch in her voice betraying her sadness. “They said they gave you medicine for pain.”
“Yes, my dear. I’m fine. As well as can be expected.” He grabbed her hand and held it. “Listen to me. There isn’t much time left.”
“Don’t say that, please.” Esme sniffled. “They’ll get you fixed up and you’ll come back to the palace and we’ll celebrate a nice holiday together.”
“No, my dear. That’s not going to happen.” He patted her hand and Z looked away, not wanting to intrude on their time together. He was engaged to Es, yes, but he wasn’t really a part of their family. The king coughed before continuing while Es’s quiet sobs filled the room. “Listen to me, my darling girl. It’s okay. It’s going to be all right. I had a vision, you see.”
Es pulled back slightly, frowning. “I’m sorry?”
“Yes. Back at the palace before the paramedics arrived. I slipped out of consciousness. Traveled to…a different place.” The king’s smile was so beatific that even Z had to wonder if the guy had actually seen something beyond just some drug-induced fantasy. “I saw you, Esme. I saw you and your Zachary, and you were so very happy together. It filled me with such joy to know that you’ll be taken care of once I’m gone.”
Z inhaled sharply at the words, not missing Es’s slight flinch. Their relationship wasn’t destined to be a happily ever after, no matter how close they became because of this baby deal. She was on the path to ruling her country while he would be on a fast-track straight back to his SEAL team. Still, Z didn’t have the heart to tell that to a dying man. Neither, it seemed, did Es.
She bent and kissed her father’s cheek, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, that sounds so lovely. But there’s no hurry for any of that. You need to focus on getting better.”
The king’s expression sobered, and he narrowed his gaze on his daughter. “Esme, I’m not getting any better. We both know that. Now, it’s time for you to stop living in a fairy tale. I want you and your child secure. I need to know that you will be before I die. They have a chaplain here at the hospital. An ordained minister. I took the liberty of ordering a special license for you and I want to see you and your Zachary married before the day is done.”
“What?” Es and Z said at the same time.
“Oh, Papa, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
Z
rushed over to the other side of the bed. “Sir, with all due respect, we’ve had no time to plan anything and with the situation currently, perhaps it’s best if we wait a bit before making any rash decisions.”
“No.” The king pushed himself up higher in his bed then slipped into another coughing jag. Es and Z exchanged anxious looks over the hospital bed. Z did not like the grayish pallor to her cheeks nor the trembling in her hands. His first instinct was to pull her into his arms and carry her away from all this pain and pressure and keep her safe until all of this was over. But it was doubtful her father would live through the night, and she’d never forgive herself if she wasn’t there by his side until the end. “You wouldn’t deny a dying man his last wish, would you?”
“Papa, I—” Es started, but the king held up his hand, silencing her. “Please, my dear. Give me and Zachary a moment alone, will you?”
Z caught Es’s eyes and gave a slight nod. She sighed and turned away, reluctantly.
Waiting until they were alone, Z looked down at the king again. “Sir, I want you to know that I’ll do everything in my power to protect your daughter and our baby.”
“I know that, son.” The king’s use of the endearment made Z’s chest ache. “I’ve been watching you two together since we were back in Washington. You have a special bond, same as my beloved queen and I had before her passing.” Z opened his mouth to deny it, but the king continued. “Now I know that perhaps things haven’t exactly followed a traditional path between the two of you. Your courtship was rushed, to say the least. And now a baby’s coming before the marriage, but none of that matters in the end. What matters is in your hearts. And I can see from looking at you, I know from watching you, Mr. Zachary Raybourn, that you have an excellent heart. Strong and brave and true. And exactly what my daughter needs to support her through the tough times ahead. Whether you know it or not, you’ve given my family a gift, the chance to continue on the throne of Prylea for another generation and for that, I’ll always be grateful.”