Page 47 of Royal Guard
I felt that fluttering in my chest again. The same surge of loyalty I always felt around the Princess. He wasn’t anything like the slimy politicians I’d met. I felt...humbled.But not talked down to. “You’re welcome, Your Highness,” I mumbled.
The Princess told her father that Sebastian, Aleksander’s assistant, was a traitor. He nodded gravely. “I’ll have him arrested and interrogated. Hopefully, he can give us a lead on the assassins.”
There was a tiny sound behind me, a barely audible moan. When I turned, Caroline was standing there, her dress twisted in her hands, her eyes brimming with tears. She bolted from the room.Poor kid.I knew what it felt like to be betrayed. But this was worse, in some ways, than what had happened to me. She’d been in love with him and those feelings don’t just switch off. She didn’t want to think of him chained and interrogated.
“The FBI found the three men killed at your father’s ranch, Mr. Buchanan,” said the King. “AllGarmanians, members of Silvas Lukin’s squad in the war.”
The Princess caught her breath and drew her arms tight around her. All I wanted was to march over there and sweep her into my arms, pull her tight against my chest and make sure nothing could ever get to her. But I forced myself to stand still.
“They could be an extremist group: men out for revenge for the war,” said the King. “But we can’t ignore the possibility that they’re backed by the Garmanian government. Their Prime Minister denies all involvement but Aleksander thinks he’s lying.”
“If Garmania ordered my assassination, it could restart the war,” whispered the Princess.
The King leaned forward. “I amnotgoing to let that happen,” he said. “Have a safe flight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And the screen went black.
We called down for room service and wound up ordering about half the menu: we hadn’t eaten properly in almost two thousand miles. I took a long, hot shower, changed the dressings on the wounds on my legs and then the clothes Caroline ordered arrived. I dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt, and, damn, it felt wonderful. I wandered out of my bedroom to check on the Princess and—
Stopped.
She was just coming out of her room wearing one of those big, white, fluffy hotel bathrobes. Her skin was freshly-scrubbed and gleaming, her hair still damp. She was stripped of her fancy clothes and shoes and tiara and it didn’t matter. She’d have looked like aprincess in a sack.
She caught my gaze. Held it. I’d taken three steps towards her before I realized I was moving, called to her by something I couldn’t explain or fight. I finally got my feet under control and stopped just before I reached her. But I still couldn’t look away.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” she said at last. God, that voice, like having every aching muscle in my body caressed by smooth, cool glass. She turned to look out of the window. “New York City. When my father said I had to attend a meeting here, I was so excited. In the end, I didn’t get to see anything except the inside of a limo and a few meeting rooms at the UN. She walked over to the window and put her hand on the glass. “Tomorrow I’ll be back in Lakovia. Even once your FBI catch the assassins, I doubt my father will ever let me come back to America again. It’s too dangerous here.”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I’d known this was goodbye but hearing her say it...I’m never going to see her again.I felt...blessed, just having had her in my life, even just for a few short days. I knew that, my whole life, I’d never again know anything this special. And it made me want to do something for her.
“Come with me,” I said.
I took her hand and led her out of the suite and up to the top floor, then hunted around until I found a stairwell that led up to the roof. When we stepped outside, the rain clouds were right overhead. The storm was going to break any second but we were okay for now.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
She nodded immediately.
“Close your eyes.”
She closed them. I walked behind her, my hands on her shoulders, threading her through the maze of air conditioning ducts, telling her when she needed to step over a pipe. My eyes were locked on her bare calves, where they emerged from beneath the robe.
We reached the edge of the roof. I helped her step up onto the parapet, wrapping an arm around her waist in case she swayed, and then said, “Your Highness: open your eyes.”
She drew in her breath. New York was laid out before her, glittering canyons of skyscrapers with rivers of glowing white flowing between them. The Flatiron building, the Chrysler building, the Empire State, all dressed in lights.
“Figure we haven’t given you the best welcome,” I said. “Wanted you to see the good in this country, before you go.”
She looked down at the arm wrapped around her waist. “I’ve seen the good in this country.”
I stayed silent.
“When we get home,” she said, “I’ll be giving the guards medals for their service. I wish I could do something for you. Obviously, you’ll be rewarded—”
“I didn’t do it for money.”
She craned her head around to look at me. With her up on the parapet, we were eye-to-eye. “Anything you want.”
Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe. I remembered standing in the FBI office, thinking about that old line from the stories.All I ask for is a kiss from you, Your Highness—
But life ain’t no damn fairy tale. I said nothing. And after a second she gave a sad little smile and a nod and looked back to the city. I could see the lightsreflected in the tears in her eyes. “I’m going to miss America, Mr. Buchanan.”