“And that’s exactly what we’re going to give them,” Asher said, striding forward.
It didn’t take the protesters long to identify him. They paused, their eyes widening and their eyebrows lifting as the awareness of his presence spread throughout the crowd.
“Good evening,” Asher said, extending his hand. “Thank you for coming out tonight and protesting peacefully. I assure you, King Martin is watching and listening.”
Asher didn’t tell them to be quiet or to go home. They had a right to voice their opinions, and as long as they did it safely and respectfully, neither the monarchy nor parliament could deny them that right.
“We just want to be able to feed our families,” one citizen broke in. “It is so hard already, and with higher taxes, I fear I won’t be able to provide for my family.” The lady’s eyes glistened.
Asher held her hand and squeezed it. “We’re listening, and we’ll do everything we can to find the best solution for the people of Santina.”
He repeated those words over and over again throughout the night. He couldn’t make any of the decisions, and that was a burden he was pleased not to have, but he could represent the monarchy and let the people know they were being heard. Because they were—his father had always listened to the people, and Asher would provide a detailed report to his father. Change would happen and his meeting with the Adani crown prince tomorrow evening would be the first step.
Asher moved easily through the protesters, Noah staying by his side, repeating the same things Asher was saying.
When golden streaks lit the skies, they returned to their car. Asher drove back to the palace, his mind replaying the stories he’d heard. The gut-wrenching reality was: he didn’t know how this issue could be fixed unless they asked for additional foreign aid—and their foreign debt was already so high. That wasn’t a feasible long-term strategy. They needed to be self-reliant, but right now what other options did they have?
Asher stole a sideways glance at Noah. “Thoughts?” Asher asked.
“This world has a lot of problems,” Noah said quietly. “I often wonder where I would be if Mother hadn’t taken me in. If you hadn’t befriended me.”
“You would be doing well,” Asher said without pause. Noah would’ve survived and thrived—he’d always done well in any circumstance he’d been thrust into.
Noah joked. “Yeah, I’d probably be leading these protests, and I wouldn’t have been so kind to you.”
Asher grinned. “Thank the Lord it will never come to that.”
Noah yawned and Asher, too, was achingly tired. It had been a long day.
They returned to the palace without incident, and Asher went straight to his room. As he stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed, he found himself deeply thankful for the life he had.
Abi
“Have you seen this?” Rachel asked, throwing a newspaper in front of Abi, almost knocking her coffee over.
“Easy,” Abi said, unrolling the paper to find a picture of Asher covering the entire front page.
PRINCE ASHER VISITS THE PEOPLE OF SANTINA. BUT WHERE WAS THE CROWN PRINCE?
“Ooh,” Abi said as her eyes scanned the article. Despite the headline, it was mostly a glowing report of Asher’s handling of the protestors with a few jabs thrown in at Alistair. The protests had remained peaceful, and if the newspaper was correct, Asher had left her apartment and must’ve spent the rest of the night there.
“What do you know about Alistair?” Abi asked.
“Little,” Rachel said. “I’ve never met him. I’ve only read, and seen, what everyone else has.” She pulled a face that reflected Abi’s opinion of him—the same opinion most of Santina would have, because they didn’t know any different. The article raised a good question, though: Why hadn’t the crown prince been there? Because he was too busy snorting cocaine off some woman’s chest?
She looked over the images, and read the article more closely. The writer had personally spoken with Asher and applauded him for his humility and for genuinely caring about Santina. While Abi agreed with all those things, she knew the royal family had to use this feedback and make some form of change. People wanted to be heard, and they only felt so when change followed. If it didn’t, the next article would likely not be so nice to Asher.
“I wonder what Alistair thinks of this article?” Abi said, biting her lip.
“I can’t imagine he will be impressed. Asher never seems to put a foot wrong, but Alistair can’t keep his toes out of trouble,” Rachel said, stirring her coffee.
Abi nodded, then turned on her computer, returning her focus on IFRT. She searched news websites for reports on the areas they were monitoring, and her heart lurched when she read the headline:
TWO FOUND DEAD, MURDERED ON THE SIDE OF THE HIGHWAY TO SANTINA
She held her breath as her eyes rapidly scanned the article, but the deaths had been linked to the conflict in the area. There was nothing to imply IFRT or Santina officials had been involved.
It was late afternoon when Abi looked up from her computer. She checked her phone again, but there was nothing from Asher. He hadn’t told her he’d call. It had just been one kiss, after all; maybe he hadn’t thought about her since.
She sighed. What was she expecting? A romance? Perhaps Asher was too busy, or perhaps he was pissed off at how she’d reacted—maybe he was just plain confused about how she’d reacted. She couldn’t blame him for that.
She tipped her head back, groaning.
She should never have kissed him.
Because now that she knew how it felt, she wanted more.
Night fell and the sun rose, and still she’d heard nothing from Asher. She retrieved her laptop from her desk and climbed back into bed with it. Propped up by multiple pillows, she typed his name into the search engine.
PRINCE MAKES FOREIGN AID DEAL WITH ADANI
A photo of Asher shaking hands with the crown prince of Adani accompanied the headline.
Abi laughed at herself. It was very likely she’d been the furthest thing from his thoughts, and she would almost bet her life he hadn’t thought about the kiss. She’d been so self-indulgent she’d forgotten who she’d kissed: a prince—a prince with official, royal duties.
That thought made her pause, and she read the article again, looking for mention of Alistair’s name, but it wasn’t mentioned. It appeared Asher had brokered this deal, and Abi wondered if that was strange. She didn’t know the full details of how the royal family worked, but she would’ve thought that the King or crown prince would be the one negotiating such a deal.
Abi sighed. Maybe she was reading too much into it, and Alistair simply couldn’t attend for some reason; or maybe Alistair was doing something more important—though she wondered what that could possibly be.
Her phone beeped and Abi grabbed it. Her heart pounded when she saw that she had a new text message:
Asher: Hey, Abi. I hope you’re doing okay, and that Libby and Savannah are too. I’ve been out of town, but I’ll call you soon.
Abi exhaled a long sigh.
He wanted to see her again.
She couldn’t agree, though, not if she wanted his involvement in IFRT. She couldn’t risk losing the advantages he brought to their group. A kiss was not worth that, regardless of how much she wanted it.
She noted the time. If he was flying home from Adani, she had another few hours at least to dream up excuses why she couldn’t meet him.
She dragged herself out of bed, showered, dressed, and drove to IFRT’s headquarters.
She had a meeting with the psychologist to discuss long-term strategies for Libby and Savannah, and she wanted to check in with the ladies herself to see how they were doing. The two women had chosen to stay together until they could be reunited with their extended families; they’d formed a bond during captivity, and Abi knew that bond would help them heal.
The psychologist was there when Abi arrived.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Abi said
, her eyes dropping to her watch. She was never late.
“I’m early,” the woman said with a warm smile.
“Please take a seat,” Abi said as she went to the kitchen to make tea. A few minutes later she sat at the table with the psychologist and her mind was fully engaged for the first time since that kiss.
“Thank you for your time today. I really appreciate it,” Abi said as she walked the psychologist to the door.
“It’s my pleasure,” the woman said gracefully. “You’re changing lives, and I’m honored to be a part of it. I know this work isn’t easy, and if you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you, Abi.” She extended her hand, and Abi shook it.
“I might take you up on that offer,” Abi said with a warm smile.
“Please do,” she said before turning to leave.
Abi locked the door and took the cups to the sink. She checked her phone, seeing a missed call from Asher.
Abi wondered if she would ever have to tell him her true identity. What would become of the relationship anyway? He needed to marry someone who was fit to be a princess, and Abi’s father aside, she still didn’t come close. A royal title meant she’d have to give up her freedom, her independence, and IFRT—many of their operations were illegal, after all, even if their intentions were good.
Abi shook her head.
Those were not sacrifices she was willing to make.
They’d shared one kiss. Nothing more. Asher was handsome, charming, a good man, and Abi wasn’t foolish enough to think she would have more impact on him than any of the other women he’d shared a kiss with.
Within a few minutes, she’d managed to convince herself that if the relationship went nowhere, there was no harm in continuing to keep her parentage a secret.
The hint of the romance between them could blow away in the wind; Asher kept his relationships private for a reason. This would be no different. She wouldn’t be outed, and he’d never need to know.
Abi sat, rubbing her hands over her face. She knew this was a bad idea, but she just wanted a few more stolen moments with Asher.
Her phone rang, startling her from her thoughts.
“Asher,” she said as her emotions welled in her chest.
“Hey,” he said, his voice smooth.
Abi smiled, despite herself. Her heart raced a little faster, and she felt giddy. Why did he have this effect on her?
“Hey. Nice deal with Adani, Asher,” Abi said.
“Thank you,” he said, sounding like he was smiling. “It’s some temporary relief and a step in the right direction. I have a long way to go, though.”
She paused. “Speaking of, isn’t it unusual that you are negotiating these deals? I don’t know how royal duties work, but I would’ve thought this would be Alistair’s job, if not your father’s.”
“It should be, truthfully,” Asher said, and Abi wondered if she detected a slither of guilt, or if she had just imagined it. “But Alistair isn’t making good choices right now, and my father needs someone he can trust. That leaves me.”
“Or any of the King’s brothers,” Abi pointed out, then quickly added, “with one exception.”
“Yes . . . except that one,” Asher said, his words deeply serious.
“Do you—?” Abi stopped herself a moment too late.
“Do I what?” Asher asked.
Abi bit her lip, knowing she was overstepping her bounds.
“What is it, Abi?” Asher asked, patient and encouraging.
“Do you think Alistair wants to be crown prince?” Abi asked, immediately uncomfortable.
“Would you want to be?” he asked bluntly. “I wouldn’t. It’s a position with tremendous responsibility, and I honestly don’t know how my father copes. It’s like suddenly having a family of millions—and you need to make sure they’re safe, they have good prospects, they have an economy that will support them, and they can live without war. Some days that feels like a fantasy given our fighting neighbors and struggling economy. But my father still believes it’s possible. He has always believed that, and he has great faith in Santina.”
“He’s a good king,” Abi said. Her father’s opinions aside, she had always thought well of the King, but had never had a safe space to say so aloud.
“He is,” Asher said. “And he’s been lucky to have my mother by his side. They’re a good team.”
Abi wondered if she and Asher could be the same.
In another life. She smiled sadly.
“Anyway, enough business. How are you? I’ve been thinking about you,” Asher said, and the way he said it made her pulse quicken.
“I’ve been thinking about you too,” Abi admitted. Too much. Far too much.
“Can I see you tonight?” Asher asked.
Abi inhaled, closing her eyes as she tipped her head back.
That’s not a good idea. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I need to sort something out for IFRT,” she lied.
“Okay,” he said, seeming to buy it. “What about sometime this week? I would like to take you to dinner, but I’d prefer if we kept this private for now,” Asher said, as if apologizing.
“I understand. How about Friday night?” Abi said vaguely, not knowing how to avoid him without causing offense—she could come up with another excuse later.
“I would offer for you to come over to my place, but that would involve smuggling you into the palace. There are spies watching everything we do there,” Asher said with a sigh.
“Spies?” Abi asked.
“My mother’s spies,” Asher said with a chuckle.
“I see,” Abi said, imagining a network of covert spies making their way through the palace. Oh, the things they must’ve seen. “Let’s keep to my place, then. I have no desire to be stuffed in a bag and dragged inside.”
Asher barked out a laugh. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind. What time suits you?”
Abi paused. It didn’t matter, because she didn’t intend to be there. “Anytime after six,” she said after a moment.
“Perfect, I’ll see you at six. I look forward to it, Abi,” he said and her insides clenched.
How am I going to get out of this?
Abi
Friday came around fast, and at five in the evening she found herself headed to Rian’s apartment. She’d fully intended to cancel the date with Asher, but they’d run into an issue, and now she needed help for IFRT—specifically the help of a prince. On the way to the apartment, she stopped and bought a bottle of wine.
“Ooh, very nice drop,” the cashier said with a whistle. “Is the prince coming for dinner?”
Abi’s mouth fell open, flabbergasted. It took her a moment to realize he was joking.
“I wish,” Abi said with a wink.
She ran back to the car, smiling despite herself.
While waiting for Asher, Abi tidied the apartment, opened the wine to let it breathe, and was polishing two glasses when her intercom sounded.
“Hello?” Abi said.
“Hey,” came Asher’s voice.
She took a deep breath. “Come up.”
She went to the foyer, waiting for the elevator. Her hands felt sweaty, and she couldn’t decide if it was guilt or excitement that was making her pulse race.
When the elevator doors opened, a smile beamed on Asher’s face.
He strode toward her and wrapped one arm around her waist, drawing her in, but she didn’t miss that he was watching her closely. She knew full well she’d given him mixed signals after their last kiss, so she wasn’t surprised he was acting this way.
He paused and then lowered his lips to hers. The moment they touched, her blood heated and her heart drummed wildly in her chest. When she pulled back, he was watching her as if she might run.
“What happened last time?” he asked. “I was half expecting to kiss you tonight and then be shown the door.”
Abi sighed. “Let’s be honest, Asher. Where can this possibly go? I run IFRT and do things you would never want to be made public, an
d you’re a prince. You need someone . . . well, someone totally the opposite of me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Abi. I like you, and while we can keep this private, I’d like to enjoy this. Us.”
His fingers entwined with hers.
Damn it. “Well, it’s a good thing I bought a nice bottle of wine then,” Abi said, meeting his gaze. “In fact, the cashier thought it such a nice drop he asked if the prince was coming for dinner.”
Asher tipped his head back, chuckling. “And what did you tell him?”
“I said, ‘I wish,’ and gave him a wink. The cashier laughed at me,” Abi said with a laugh of her own, forgetting all her problems as she looked up at Asher.
Asher drew her in, kissing her forehead. “So you’re talking about me already. Good to know,” he said playfully.
Abi smacked his chest. “Get a grip,” she said, though she didn’t know if she was talking to him or herself.
Asher scoffed. His eyes laughed at her as he shook his head.
“Come inside,” Abi said suddenly, acutely aware she was still holding his hand. She let it go.
“So, are you associated with IFRT on paper? Or does it all link back to Rian?” Asher asked, taking a better look at her apartment as they walked through it.
Abi paused, wondering if that was a question she should answer. “It all links back to Rian—she has multiple aliases. If I expose my true identity, it poses risks of being kidnapped.” Especially given who my father is, she almost said, catching herself just in time.
Maybe I should’ve said it.
“Do the risks scare you?” he asked, searching her eyes.
“Yes, if I think about them for too long,” Abi admitted. Thoughts of her mentor bombarded her mind, and she looked away.
Asher reached for her, and it felt good to be in his arms. Too good. She placed her hands on his strong forearms. Prince Asher made time to work out.
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