At some point during his vigil, Sander’s hand slipped from Elias’s shoulder to his arm—the unbroken one—so he could wrap his fingers around his son’s forearm and intermittently squeeze. He remained seated while the doctors kept a close watch on the brain swelling and prayed each time for good news. Every second without Elias having to be wheeled away into the operating room was a positive sign in Sander’s book.

Four hours later, a flurry at the door drew his attention.

Chey rushed in, followed by their other three children, Emily, Erick and Eliana.

“No one would tell me anything. What’s going on? My God, is he all right?” Chey asked. She dropped her purse near the wall and hurried to Elias’s bedside.

“We have to keep it under tight wraps. The fewer people that know, the better,” Sander said. He glanced at Elias. “He’s holding his own for now. He’s got nonthreatening internal injuries, some lacerations that they stitched up, a broken wrist, and brain swelling. They’re monitoring that very closely.”

Chey stroked a gentle touch down Elias’s cheek.

They locked eyes across their son’s body. Sander read the same turmoil and fear that he himself felt inside.

Having been pulled from a diplomatic trip to a foreign country, Chey was still dressed in a classic business suit and heels, her dark hair swept back into a sleek knot. She straightened, peeled out of her suit jacket, and tossed it over a chair before resuming her soft touches on Elias’s skin.

“Tell me how bad it really is,” Chey whispered.

“I’m encouraged that the brain swelling hasn’t gotten worse in the last few hours. They haven’t had to take him into surgery. That’s got to be a good sign. We can get another update from the doctor now that you’re here,” Sander said.

Erick, Emily, and Eliana crowded around the bed.

“But what happened?” Eliana asked. “Was this an attack? An accident?”

“We don’t know yet,” Sander said. A muscle in his jaw flexed. “So far, all signs point to an accident.”

“No one else survived?” Erick asked.

“No.”

“I can’t think of any covert situations we’re involved in that might prompt an attack on Elias,” Erick said. “There hasn’t been any escalation in tensions with other countries—at least that I’m aware of.”

“Except Weithan Isle,” Eliana stated. “We did expose their princess as a lying fraud and bust her for attempted murder. Maybe the king is taking revenge.”

“I don’t think Kristo would stoop to that,” Sander said. Kristo Novak, king of Weithan Isle, had a reputation for nastiness but not of the murdering kind. Sander was fairly confident the king had nothing to do with Elias’s crash.

“What about Wolfe Novak? Elias is dating the woman he was in love with,” Erick said.

Sander stroked Elias’s arm and stared at his son’s slack face. Erick had a point. Wolfe Novak had lost his mother to arrest after her assassination plot, and had also lost the woman he loved to another.

To Elias.

Sander couldn’t be positive that Wolfe’s intentions were pure.

Still, they had no proof. It had been months and months since the debacle with Wolfe’s mother, Valentina, and Sander couldn’t start accusing people without evidence.

It might have been a simple matter of a bad road, bad driving decisions, and an unexpected car wreck.

He realized his children and Chey were staring at him expectantly.

“We’ll stay the course until we have news back from the investigators. If they find evidence of foul play, then we’ll dig deeper. Right now, Elias needs our attention focused on him,” Sander said.

Accepting silence fell over the room.

For a while, it was just the blip of monitors and the sound of their breathing. Elias’s siblings touched their brother on his cheek, arm, shin. Any place there weren’t bandaged wounds.

Again, Sander met Chey’s eyes across the bed. Hers were filled with tears, although none had escaped to trickle down her cheeks. Sander marveled at her strength, but he also knew she was hurting. Scared. He pushed from his seat and rounded the bed, coming up behind Chey to slide his arms around her shoulders.

Her breath hitched then steadied.

Sander tightened his arms and dropped a whisper near her ear. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

The words felt like a lie in his mouth, no matter how desperately he wanted them to be true.

Click.

Beep.

Time ticked on.

“Dare, can I talk to you?” Leander said from the doorway.

“I’ll be right there.” Sander shifted in his seat and pushed to a stand. Chey had fallen asleep in the chair next to him, her cheek resting on Elias’s bed. After a gentle stroke of his hand over his wife’s hair and a glance at Elias, Sander stepped away and met Leander in the hall.

It was late, pushing midnight.

Leander thrust a hand back through his cropped brown hair. Salt streaks near the temples gave evidence of creeping age.

“Initial findings are in. There’s no evidence of foul play,” Leander said in his forthright, blunt manner. “A small section of road at the cliffside collapsed. The investigators think the Hummer got too close to the edge and the wheel sank in. From there the vehicle slid off the road and rolled.”

“Did they get the lab work back on the driver?” Sander asked. He knew each man had been tested for drugs and alcohol.

“Yes. All of them, down to Elias, came back negative. Seems it was an accident in the truest sense of the word. The driver might have even swerved to miss an animal or something and didn’t realize how close to the edge he was, or that the edge would give way.”

“All right. If you hear anything else, let me know. Also, I need you to lock down all information channels between this incident and the outside world. I don’t even want the council or the advisors to know yet. Make sure all the emergency responders, nurses, doctors—everyone involved keeps Elias’s condition under wraps.” The last thing he wanted was for other countries to think Latvala was in a vulnerable spot.

“I did that hours ago, but I’ll go back over it and reissue the order. I figured you wouldn’t want this getting out yet,” Leander said. “What about Inari?”

Inari Ascher, future queen of Somero, was Elias’s current love interest. The two were close, but hadn’t been together that long. Not years. And they weren’t engaged. Sander trusted Inari to keep the news to herself, yet he hesitated. It wouldn’t just be Inari who knew. Her personal security guards would know as well as a few others intimately involved in Inari’s schedule. That was the thing about dealing with royalty. Someone else always had inside information.

“Let’s see how Elias does overnight first. We’ll contact her tomorrow if Elias holds his own,” Sander said.

Leander nodded and stepped away down the hall.

“How’re you doing, Pop?” Eliana asked.

Sander turned to face his youngest daughter, who had snuck into the hall at some point. While Emily resembled Chey, Eliana resembled him. She even wore half her blond-streaked hair pulled back from her forehead. Her jaw was femininely square, also taking after him, though the rest of her features were soft and pretty. Rather than frilly dresses or ultrafeminine fashion, Eliana preferred leather, suede, and denim. Hiking boots were a constant. She was his daughter to a tee.

“I’m fine, Ellie. Any changes?”

“No. But nothing for the worse either, so that’s good news,” she said. “I know you’re a rock, but I’m worried about you. And Mom.”

Sander set a hand on Eliana’s shoulder. “We’ll be all right. We have to stay strong for him. Stay strong and hope for the best.”

Eliana studied his eyes while he studied hers. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his whiskery cheek, an atypical show of affection. It wasn’t that his daughter was lacking in feelings. Eliana preferred to only show them now and then, however, usually during difficult or trying times, or when she knew someone really needed support. Sander smiled and cupped her cheek in his palm.

He loved his kids so.

A flurry of movement through the window to Elias’s room drew his gaze. Several nurses hurried around Elias’s bed, checking monitors and flipping switches. Chey had backed away from the bedside, one hand over her mouth.

With a sharp curse, Sander brushed past Eliana and entered the room at the same time as the lead surgeon, who had left the nurse’s station at a jog.

“We’re going to have to take him into surgery, Your Majesty. The swelling is increasing,” he said.

Sander strode for Chey as the staff prepared to wheel Elias into the surgical suite. Eliana had followed him inside and stood near Erick and Emily. They had less than a minute to lay hands on Elias’s shoulder and whisper their love before the gurney whisked out the door with monitors still beeping.

Sander watched it all through a strange haze. None of it seemed real. For a while, he’d had high hopes that Elias was almost out of the woods. Now his son was fighting for his life.

Chey trembled in his arms, bringing his attention down to her agonized face.

“He’ll make it,” Sander said, wishing he felt as confident as he sounded. “I’m going to go get hooked up so they can draw blood in case Elias needs it.”

“All right. We’ll be here,” Chey whispered. She kissed his cheek, hugged him tight, and went to stand with Emily, Erick, and Eliana.

Sander spent a few seconds studying his family before stalking into the hallway. He pushed up his shirtsleeves and gestured to a nurse.

“I want to give blood in case he needs it. Let’s go.”

No sacrifice was too small to help save his child.