Saved by the Monarch. Dana Marton

thing annoyed him to no end and didn’t fill him with optimism regarding his future wife’s character.

      He would marry her anyway. He was prepared to make that sacrifice. She could be key to uniting the country again. Her father had been an extremely popular lord and political figure, a son of the Italian minority living in Valtria. Her mother had been a descendant of the Austrian-related branch of Valtrian nobility. Her marriage to him would be far more than just a happy occasion for all the people to come together at last and celebrate. Their joining would be symbolic, could even start the country on the path of healing ethnic wounds if it were played in exactly the right way.

      “I’m an American citizen. I got that when my stepmother adopted me. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.” She threw him a so-there look that was haughty enough for a princess while also incredibly hot.

      “Valtrian-American,” he corrected and wondered if that, too, might not have some use yet. She’d spent most of her life outside the country. She had no alliances yet, no preferences, no past here to dredge up. She could be seen as a fresh breath of air to the royal family, impartial, sympathetic to all the people of the kingdom. Something to discuss with the chancellor when they had a sane minute.

      His cell phone rang. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have picked it up in the lady’s presence, reserving his full attention for her. But at the moment, he was glad for any diversion from the disaster their meeting was turning into. Seeing the chief of security’s number on the display made his decision for him.

      “What happened?”

      “Two bodies were found in the catacombs. Palace guards.” The man’s voice was grave and apologetic at the same time.

      “Procedure followed?”

      “Yes, Your Highness. Emergency procedures for the possible infiltration of the palace are being put in place. The royal family will leave for a weekend hunting holiday to Maltmore within the hour.”

      He loved Maltmore, a fine hunting castle, had fond childhood memories of the place and Monsieur Maneaux, the Frenchman who had taught the young princes sword fighting there. Under the current situation, to remove the royal family to the castle from the royal palace for a few days was the best course of action.

      Which was going to be questioned by the media, since it had been unscheduled, but the chancellor would come up with some innocent reason. Maybe even involving the arrival of Lady Judit.

      “Very well.” His ancestors had built Maltmore in the foothills of the Alps, a location as majestic as it was well defensible.

      But also a hundred miles from the capital. Which meant he would have a hard time investigating the goings-on at the royal palace from there. “I shall be staying in residence.” The rest of the “Brotherhood” could just investigate from the safety of the castle walls. Actually, that suited him pretty well.

      “Your Highness, I must advise—”

      “I shall be staying in residence with the Lady Judit.” The perfect excuse for him to lag behind his family.

       The prince and the future princess are getting to know each other. Courting.

      The press would turn it into something mushily romantic, and nobody would guess the dire situation at the palace, news of which could not come out under any circumstances. With all the upheaval in the country, the supposed Freedom Council that worked to bring down the monarchy would capitalize on information like that, use it as proof that the people were fed up with the royals. The council would gain more power, and their power was even now almost too much to handle.

      His mother was ill—she had to leave. His brothers, if they stayed, wouldn’t be able to help themselves, but would try to investigate and look for any excuse to perform some heroic deed. He could never hope to keep an eye on all of them. They were better off at Maltmore. But he should be able to keep a close eye on Judit. How hard could it be to keep track of one young woman? And the monarchy’s enemies didn’t know her yet anyway. She wasn’t a target.

      “We’ll talk when I get there.” He hung up the phone, then addressed Lady Judit. “I’m sorry, but your official schedule will have to be changed.”

      Under the circumstances, maybe it was best if she weren’t out there, prancing around the countryside. He’d see to it that she would be kept busy at the royal palace, while guarded heavily. They might even spend more time together than originally planned. He found that he didn’t altogether mind that prospect.

      “I don’t have an official schedule.” She glared at him.

      The chancellor drew up his shoulders and shook his head, nonplussed. He seemed completely out of sorts and taking this mix-up badly. He probably felt responsible.

      “If we were engaged all this time like you say, how come you never contacted me? If I hadn’t decided to come here, would you have just forgotten about it and let it all go?” Judit asked.

      “I’ve been busy. I’ve been patient, trying to give you the time you needed.” And relieved that she’d stayed away, to be truthful. He had a full life, a career in the army, a pretty busy schedule. It’d always seemed that they would have plenty of time yet. Which led the chancellor to his ultimatum. Might as well tell her some of that.

      “If I hadn’t made arrangements before my fortieth birthday—” he felt a moment of embarrassment “—you would have received an official contact from the royal family that requested your presence here. Chancellor Hansen would have organized the confirmation of our engagement.”

      “When is your fortieth birthday?” she inquired.

      “At the end of summer.”

      “Procrastinate much?” She actually looked amused for a second.

      His turn to glare at her.

      “I think you want this as little as I do,” she observed.

      “I want to do my duty.” That was all he ever wanted. Whatever it took to help the country and the monarchy. When one was a prince, personal feelings did not figure into the equation.

      “I don’t want anyone to marry me out of duty,” she snapped, as if offended. But then she added on a softer voice, that suited her much better, “Can you understand that?”

      “Lady Arynak mentioned none of this to you?” Miklos asked.

      NOT REALLY. JUDI SAT ramrod straight on the leather seat, not allowing her shoulders to slump. Don’t let them see you scared.

      The limousine felt smaller than a Mini Cooper. The prince had what could be called an imposing presence, his intense energy filling the space and then some. Grainy pictures in tabloids were one thing. Sitting face-to-face with all that charisma was vastly different, heaven help her.

      She wondered for a second if anyone had ever naysayed him. That probably didn’t happen too often. A man like him wouldn’t be used to resistance from women.

      “My aunt is a sweet old lady.” She sounded defensive even to her own ears, but couldn’t help it. She loved Aunt Viola. Who was sweet. Too sweet, even. She had a tendency to say whatever anyone wanted to hear. But, hello, that was exactly why she was so very likable and had a gazillion friends.

      “She did bring up from time to time that I should visit Valtria.” But Judi had always put it off, focusing on her studies at first, then on her career. And her aunt had mentioned marriage, urged her more and more often lately to consider that it might be time to start thinking along those lines, but Judi had been reluctant.

      Not that she was commitment-phobic, although she’d been accused of just that by more than one ex-boyfriend. But it did seem that everyone she’d ever truly loved always ended up dying. Her mother when Judi had been three, her father when she’d been five, her stepmother when she’d been ten.

      Maybe she was scared to fully fall in love and commit to a man. And her aunt hadn’t pushed or played matchmakers