“He is ruining everything we have worked so hard to accomplish.” Abelardo ran a hand through his hair roughly, feeling sick to his stomach. Not only was Ludwig butting his nose into where it did not belong, he was throwing his money around as well. “We need—I mean, I need to press Angelica harder.”

Americo waved his hand, his expression full of disgust. “No, that plan is not working. The princess clearly has moved on and no amount of you wooing her is going to work.”

Abelardo frowned. “I’m not giving up on Angelica. She has some affection for me. All I have to do is find her weakness and capitalize on it.”

“You were supposed to be her weakness.”

Abelardo swept the contents on the table to the floor, glass shattering. “I am her weakness!”

Americo arched a brow, looking at the mess that Abelardo had just created. “If you are her weakness, then you must try harder. We are running out of time.”

“I know.” Abelardo nodded tightly, a grim look on his face. “I will ramp up my efforts. She will be eating out of the palm of my hand by the end of the week, I promise you.”

Americo didn’t believe him. He had seen the way the princess and Ludwig had looked at each other, how he had shielded her from the aftermath of the explosion. There was only one man in the princess’s life and it was not the man before him. “See that you do.”

Because if Abelardo failed, Americo suspected it would probably be the last thing he ever failed at.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” Angelica knocked at the doorframe of the meeting room and waved the ministers and assistants from getting up to greet her. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Understandable, Your Royal Highness. You worked late into the night helping our people.” Lord Agustin’s smile waned and his eyes rounded when he saw Ludwig entering the room behind her. “But-but, Ma’am, this is a confidential meet—”  

“His Highness, the Grand-Duke Ludwig von Kröenenbberg from Lektenstaten has been helping me since the bombing, milord. He provided invaluable assistance in the immediate aftermath. He’s also an extended member of the royal family as he is King Angus’s cousin, who is married to my sister. He is also an investor in Aragon.” With that, she quelled whatever concern they could have—or whatever gossip was churning in their minds.

She paused beside Valantín, who was sitting on the tall throne-like chair so many previous Aragon kings had sat in at the head of the table, and kissed his cheek. She waited for her brother and Ludwig to shake hands, before she moved to the other end of the long mahogany table and took her seat in a smaller throne-like chair.

As they had previously arranged, Ludwig sat himself in the chair at the end of the table to her right, closer to her than the chair would ordinarily be placed.

Valantín motioned to Guardia Civil Chief Ilda Bandres to continue. Angelica knew her well from the investigations conducted around her father’s death. His killer had yet to be found and prosecuted, but Angelica had grown to respect the chief and completely trusted her.

“As of this morning we had nineteen civilians and six policemen dead.” Chief Bandres’s voice was strong, though her green eyes were pinched. “It could’ve been much worse. Some might even say we were lucky.”

“How so?” asked Valantín.

“That close to the museum, even with the smaller bomb, there should’ve been more people dead.” Chief Bandres consulted her notes. “According to one witness, just before the ambulance entered the avenue in your direction, someone starting shouting ‘bomb’.”

Ludwig pulled his chair closer. “I saw her.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Valantín murmured, puzzled. “Why set up a bomb and then warn people to get away from it?”

Chief Bandres turned to him. “Did you see anything that could help? Can you describe her?”

“I was too far away to get a good look at her features, but she had the typical Spanish appearance. Long brown hair, light tanned skin. Beautiful traces. And…” He frowned for a moment and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “She was tall, a statuesque young woman, yet she was light on her feet. I clearly remember the way she got past the policemen.”

Chief Bandres jotted down his impressions. “I’ll need you to work with one of our forensic artists.”

Ludwig nodded. “Sure. I’ll be glad to help.”

“Is anyone taking responsibility for it?” Valantín asked.

“Al Qaeda tried to.” Chief Bandres snorted. “We have a few leads, though. I have two teams of detectives running down every lead we can get.”

“Do you believe that it has anything to do with the Democracy for Aragon?”  

Chief Bandres shook her head, looking up at Angelica. “I don’t doubt it. This is something they would do. But I doubt we will be able to tie them to it. They’re a slippery bunch.”

As the meeting proceeded with the chief describing what little evidence they’d gathered so far and going into technical detail on the type of explosives used, chemical signatures, and other technicalities, Angelica studied Ludwig surreptitiously. In all her tiredness, she forgot to ask him what he was doing there.

She’d gotten so accustomed to his presence and the natural feel of him by her side, it was only then that she realized how odd it was that he was sitting in this meeting between government officials and law enforcement.

Was her judgment slipping, or had she made some unconscious decision about him that was probably clear as day to everyone else?

“This is Police Inspector Alixandre Balaguer. Inspector, meet Princess Angelica Rafela de Castella y Aragon and…” She trailed off, gesturing to Ludwig.  

He rose and held out his hand. “Ludwig von Kröenenberg.”  

Chief Bandres frowned. “I thought you had a title of peerage.”

“I do, but I don’t like to use it in situations where it’s not relevant. It would just get in the way now.”

When he said things like that, Angelica found herself melting. The man was quite irritatingly perfect.

Chief Bandres nodded once but she reminded her detective, “Just remember he is of nobility. Treat him with the appropriate respect and get his statement.”

“One more thing.” Ludwig’s eyebrows lowered as if he was making a connection with something else. “When she jumped over the policemen—first jumping onto a mailbox, then leaping over them like she was an Olympic gymnast or…maybe a parcours athlete or something—another guy followed her, also shouting and brandishing a plaque which said Axe the Royals. I thought they were going to attack the royal limousine, but they were trying to disperse the people.”

The chief was very interested in this news and confused as well. “What did he look like?”

“I could maybe describe the man.” Ludwig chewed his bottom lip. “But I can’t say I got a good look at him either.”

“Let’s get you to the artist while your memories are fresh.” Inspector Balaguer smiled politely at Ludwig and gestured for him to follow.

Ludwig glanced at Angelica before turning and following the inspector. He wished he could fast-forward their relationship to a point where he could’ve taken her hand, kissed her on the lips, and let her know that he’d do whatever he could to help come up with a police sketch, then rejoin her, wherever she was.

But all he could do was raise his eyebrows and give her a hopeful smile.