“Deacon, dude!” Z walked into the Prancing Pony Pub that Friday, relieved beyond measure to see his best friend in the flesh. His old SEAL buddy had a stopover in Prylea on his way back to America following a secret mission in Russia and was on a four-hour layover. They shared a back-slapping bro hug then took a seat in the booth Deacon had saved for them.

“Hey, man,” Deacon said, sliding into the booth seat opposite Z’s. “Long time no actual see.”

They ordered their drinks and a couple appetizers, then started catching up.

“So, how’s it feel to be a married man now?” Deacon asked after thanking the server for his pale ale. “And a baby on the way, too. The times they are a’changing.”

Z exhaled slow and took a long drink of his dark brew. “It all still seems unreal sometimes. But then, none of it is real.” He winced slightly at the words and sat back. “I told you about the offer she made me months ago. I’m just fulfilling my end of the deal.”

“Uh-huh.” Deacon sat back narrowing his dark gaze on Z. “Sure. I remember that conversation, all right. But I also see the man sitting across from me now and I have to say that I’m seeing a different guy. You look happier, man, more comfortable in your own skin.”

Snorting, Z shook his head. “Maybe. I don’t know. Things have been pretty nuts around here lately.”

“Job-wise?”

“Yeah. I work hard to keep security tight around Es, especially with the kid on the way. But lately, the threats have reached a new level. I don’t want to be that guy who cries wolf all the time, but I also can’t watch Es every second of the day either, you know? It’s tough.”

“I bet.” Deacon sat back as the waitress brought two trays of appetizers—loaded potato skins and Asian barbecue chicken wings. Both guys loaded up their plates and ordered seconds on their drinks, then dug in. “I heard on the news they had some big parliament thing earlier this week?”

“Yep. That went off without a hitch, thank goodness,” Z said around a bite of chicken. “But I still can’t help feeling like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. At first, I thought something would happen at her father’s funeral, but nothing did. Then I thought maybe at the parliament session, but nope.” He finished off his chicken wing then tossed the bone aside. “Now, I’m looking ahead to the coronation.”

“They do that in utero?”

Z chuckled. “Nah, man. For Esme. She’ll be ruling in our son’s stead until he’s old enough to take the throne himself. So, parliament will hold a coronation ceremony for her now and then later, again, for our son.”

“Our son, eh?” Deacon wiped sour cream from a potato skin off his mouth then grinned. “Sounds mighty cozy to me. You sure this is just business, bro?”

Sighing, Z shoved half a potato skin in his mouth to cover the awkward silence. That was exactly the problem. It wasn’t just business anymore, not for him. But he had no right projecting that onto Es. She had more than enough to deal with right now without his unrequited love on top of it.

“You care about her, don’t you?” Deacon asked, always far too perceptive for his own good.

“Of course I care about her,” Z said, swallowing hard. “We made a baby together. But it’s not like that, at least not for her. I don’t think she feels the same way about me.”

“Hmm.” Deacon polished off several chicken wings and half his beer before answering. “What’s your gut telling you?”

“My gut?”

“Yeah, your instincts saved our butts more than once out on the battlefield. If you’re feeling this strongly for her, I can’t imagine she’s not at least reciprocating those feelings a little bit. Not to get all mushy or anything on you, but you two need to talk. Before the baby comes.”

“Yeah. I know.” He toyed with an uneaten bite of potato skin on his plate. “I just… there’s so much going on right now. So much stress and worry on both our parts. Most days we barely see each other, and when we do, I’m always on edge because of some new threat or other. It’s gotten to the point I hate to even let her out of my sight. Coming here tonight was like torture, man. No offense.” He gave Deacon a sheepish look. “Your company is great as always, but I can’t stop thinking about Es. There’s this weird tension gurgling inside me, like trouble’s on the way, like something’s going to happen and I’m not going to be there to stop it.” He sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I think the royal tailor is going to kill me.”

Deacon laughed. “Is that a credible threat? And I never even knew there was such a thing as a royal tailor.”

“Oh yeah. There’s pretty much a royal everything around here, dude.” Z laughed too. “It’s crazy. But the poor guy’s been by three times already to fit me for my tux for Es’s coronation ceremony and he still hasn’t been able to finish because I’ve been called away every time on one crisis or another. Crazy. Thank God my team’s able to pick up the slack because otherwise I’d never leave work. Like now, the only way I could be here with you is because my team is trailing Es while she goes to her florist appointment. Apparently, fresh flowers in the winter are a big deal at this coronation thing too. Symbolizes life eternal or reborn or some crap.”

“Huh, sounds hectic as hell,” Deacon said, taking the last chicken wing.

“You have no idea, man.”

Z was just reaching for the final potato skin when a commotion sounded near the front doors of the pub. He turned to see one of the security guards from his team hurrying toward their booth. His stomach fell to his toes as he and Deacon exchanged a look.

“Looks like trouble has arrived, my friend,” Deacon said.

“Unfortunately.” Z shifted his attention to the panting security at their table, the guy out of breath and sweating like he’d run all the way over there. “What’s going on? What’s happening? Is it the princess?”

“They took her, sir,” the guy managed to get out between wheezes. “We were watching her the whole time, but they were too fast.”

“Took her?” Z was out of the booth and on his feet in seconds, pulling his sidearm from the holster at his waist and checking the magazine before slapping it back into place and jamming it back into his holster. “Where? Tell me exactly what happened.”

He started to walk out with the guard when Deacon called from behind him, “Hey, wait for me, bro! You know I always got your back and I’m here until tomorrow.”

“Hell yes!” Z said, waving him over to follow them out. “Come back to the palace with me and we’ll get this figured out. I’ve got a pretty good idea who took my wife, but a swear to God if he harms one single hair on her head, I will kill the bastard with my bare hands!”