Where is she?

I checked my watch—again. It was nearly 11:30. The narrows roads were dark and icy. She shouldn’t be out there.

Henrik knocked on the open door of my office. I set my glass down on the table in front of the sofa and stood.

“She just called Gretchen, Your Majesty. She wanted to know if someone would be manning the gates at this late hour.”

I scoffed and shook my head. What did she think this was, a youth hostel with a napping night clerk? “Take a car out and meet her at the gates. Don’t let Shakespeare Jr. onto the grounds.”

“Of course, sir.”

“You should’ve told me when she requested to be driven into town earlier.” Cara had spoken to him about getting a ride after the children had gone to bed. I’d been in a call with some business associates on the other side of the world, so Henrik hadn’t notified me.

“My apologies, Your Majesty.”

I had to be careful. It wasn’t him I was frustrated with. I wasn’t even sure it was Cara. I was just… frustrated. With a sigh, I gestured to the bottle and cups on the small table. “Would you like a drink, Henrik?”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I must respectfully decline.”

I sighed. My choice for drinking companions around here was limited to tea with my mother or juice with my children.

“Of course. Let me know when Cara is back.”

“Yes, sir. And one more thing, Your Majesty. Mr. Hollister sent over his itinerary. They’ll arrive here Tuesday, around noon.”

That, at least, was good news. I hadn’t seen my old buddy Blake and his wife since I left the States. “Thank you, Henrik. That’s all.”

He nodded and left. I stood in front of the fireplace for a few moments, enjoying the warmth. Then I drained my glass and moved to my desk to catch up on some work, but I couldn’t concentrate. Weird how that kept happening this past month.

When Henrik called to say Cara was heading up to her room, I took a side entrance from my suite and intercepted her.

It was almost midnight, and she still looked animated. She was bundled up in her belted red coat with a white hat and scarf. She stopped dead when she saw me, clearly startled.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

She had her hand to her chest. “Trying not to have a heart attack. You popped out like an evil jack-in-the-box.” She paused, tilting her head to the side. “Is a jack like a prince? In playing cards, there’s a king, a queen, and then a jack. I never thought about it before.”

She was absurd. Every time I saw her, I was surprised by something that came out of her mouth. “I have no idea.”

This didn’t deter her. She looked past me curiously, trying to see into the dark rooms behind me. “I’ve never noticed that door before. Does it lead to the children’s quarters?”

“My office is back here.” I moved to the side and held the door open for her. She glanced up into my face, her blue eyes vivid against her rosy flush on her cheeks. Then she stepped inside.

I led her back to my study where she immediately went to stand in front of the fire, pulling off her gloves and rubbing her hands together. She looked small in comparison to the oversized room. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were nearly twice her height, and she could’ve curled up and taken a nap on the leather sofa without touching either end.

She bounced on her toes, trying to warm up.

“Where were you tonight?”

Cara turned to me at once. “I’m sorry. I tried to let you know, but Henrik said you had a business call.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I was helping Von.”

Which I presumed, but it was irritating to hear her say it. “I thought you were only supposed to meet with him once a week.”

She nodded, but her eyes sparkled. “That was the plan, but the most amazing thing happened. I emailed one of my old professors from the theater department, and he wants to see Von’s play! That’s why we’ve needed some extra sessions. Von’s going to send the first act this week. And I have a friend in London who’s got some contacts. She thinks she can find someone who’ll want to see it as well.”

Cara looked up at me eagerly, as if expecting me to share her excitement about Von’s news.

Not likely.

“Where do you and the puppeteer work on his great opus?”

A hint of a frown crossed Cara’s face. “In the coffee shop off the main square. The one by the church.”

“Doesn’t that close at nine?” I wasn’t familiar with the shop, but it was a safe bet. Almost everything closed early in town.

“Yes, it did, so we went back to his house.”

“His house? Need I remind you that women alone in a foreign country probably shouldn’t go home with strangers?”

“He’s not a stranger,” she fired back. “He’s my friend. Besides, his mother was there.”

“He lives with his mother?”

“Yes,” Cara said, her eyes blazing. “So do you.”

For a moment, I just stared at her. Then I turned abruptly away—not out of anger, but because an entirely inappropriate laugh was threatening to escape my mouth. She was like a tiny mouse fiercely standing up to a lion. Very few people around this place ever called me out on anything.

But that didn’t change the fact that she’d placed herself in danger, going off with a man she barely knew. And then having him drive her on those narrow, twisty roads. She could’ve been injured or worse. I turned to find her still glaring at me. “What does the puppeteer’s mother think of the play of the century?”

“I didn’t meet her, she was asleep.”

It had been just the two of them. For a moment, I pictured them huddled together at a kitchen table, laughing and brushing against each other as they worked in harmony—while their chaperone slumbered obliviously in another room.

Cara bristled at the expression on my face. “Remember, Your Majesty, I was hired to take care of your children. It’s not your job to take care of me. I don’t need your protection.”

I winced, though I didn’t let it show. She couldn’t know how her words affected me. Take care of and protect. That’s what my mother had asked me to do when she’d first told me her friend’s daughter was coming to the US to study. I was supposed to look out for Lisette—yet she’d died on my watch.

Trying to tamp down the memory, I studied the young woman in front of me. She was so energetic. So full-of-life. When had I last felt like that? With Cara, it seemed to be her default state.

Suddenly, my irritation found a new target. “For god’s sake, you’re inside. Why are you still bundled up like you’re about to run the Iditarod?”

“It’s cold in here,” she said, but she did pull off her knitted cap. For a moment, her fair hair floated around her head, buoyed by static electricity. Then she shoved her hat in her coat pocket and ran her fingers through her glossy mane.

How could anyone still be cold while standing in front of a fire? Cara was definitely built for California, not Central Europe. “Do you like whiskey?”

She blinked rapidly, perhaps surprised by my change in topic. “I’m not sure. I haven’t had it much, but it’s my brother-in-law’s favorite drink.”

“Let’s find out. Take a seat.” I jabbed my finger at the sofa, and she hesitated, and then unbuttoned her coat. She smoothed out the red jacket somewhat self-consciously and then laid it over an armchair. Then she sat where I indicated. “And it’ll warm you up.”

She was perching on the edge, and it irritated me that she didn’t lean back and relax. But then I realized she probably couldn’t—her legs weren’t long enough for the deep couch. She seemed to realize that, too, because she scooted herself back and tucked her legs underneath her. She was wearing faded blue jeans and a rose-colored V-neck sweater with a white shell underneath.

I poured two glasses and handed her one, sitting down beside her. “Prost,” I said, using the German word for cheers. We clinked our glasses together and I was pleased she made careful eye contact as she repeated the word. Not many American knew that that was an essential part of the toast.

I downed half my glass, but Cara took a dainty sip of the amber-colored liquid and immediately began coughing. Her face turned red, but to her credit, once she’d recovered, she tilted the glass to her pink lips again.

“What do you think?” I asked when the second round of coughing subsided.

“It certainly does warm you up,” she conceded. “Not sure if I like it though.” She sniffed at the glass. “And by the way, I like cats.”

My eyebrow raised of its own accord as I tried to make sense of her non sequitur.

“Before, you said I looked like I was ready to be part of a dogsled race. But I’m a cat person.”

Bemused by the way her mind worked, I watched her take another cautious sip. Not that I’d thought about it, but she would’ve struck me as a dog person. Cara was open, eager, excitable. Those seemed more like dog qualities than cats.

For a while, we sat quietly, side by side, looking at the hypnotic flames in the hearth. At last, Cara tapped her fingernail against the rim of unfinished glass of whisky. “I think it would almost taste good if I could just stop coughing.”

“Perhaps.”

“I like the initial blast of heat. And the color.” She held her glass up, swirling it around slowly. “It reminds me of your eyes.”

What? I took in a sharp breath. “My eyes are hazel.”

“I know. Usually they look almost green.” She was still looking at the whiskey. “But when we were outside in the sun the other day, I saw some flecks of amber.”

She wasn’t supposed to notice that kind of thing. Just like I wasn’t supposed to notice how lovely she looked tonight with her pale skin still slightly flushed from the cold. Her golden eyelashes framed her wide-set eyes. Her legs were folded up gracefully beneath her, giving her added height.

I liked seeing her at eye-level. Figuratively speaking, no one was at my level around here. The queen was above me and everyone else was supposedly below. It would be nice, just for once, to have an equal. Someone to talk to. Someone to be myself with.

But that wasn’t why she was here, and I needed to remember that. Especially since she was only here for half a year. “About earlier… it’s not that you can’t have friends outside of your working hours, but your job has to come first.”

“It does,” she protested.

“Maybe, but tonight, making my staff stay up late to let you back in, you caused a disruption in everyone’s routine.”

Her eyes suddenly looked ashen. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think of it like that.”

Her sincerity was apparent. “It does take some getting used to. When I was a kid, every year when I’d return here after school was out, it would take a week or two to adjust. This isn’t an easy place to live.”

“No, it isn’t,” she said slowly. “Not for me, and definitely not for Derrick and Elyse.” She paused so long that I was sure she wasn’t going to continue. But then she said, “Maybe not even for you.”

I ignored that last part, but her point about the twins hit a little too close to home. Abruptly, I set down my glass and stood up, going over to my desk. “It just takes a little forethought. This came for you yesterday.” I picked up the small brown box. “If you’d warned Henrik that it was coming, he could’ve let the guards know to expect it.”

I sat down and put the box on the sofa between us.

“It’s open!”

“Yes,” I said gruffly. “This is the royal palace of Falkenberg, not a Holiday Inn. All incoming packages are examined at the guard station. And the time you spend browsing online for Playwriting for Dummies is time you’re not focusing on the children.”

“It’s not—”

“Whatever it is, it’s taking time away from the twins.” I reached in the open box and pushed aside the packing paper, pulling out a thick white paperback with a brightly colored cover. For a moment, I just stared at it.

Shit.

With a sigh, I held the book out to her. “This is for Derrick, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She took the Field Guide to Birds of Central Europe out of my hands. “It took forever to get here.”

“Most things do.” I balanced one elbow on the armrest and rubbed my eyes, feeling like a jerk. “You don’t have to buy things like that for the twins. If there’s anything they need, just let Gretchen or Henrik know.”

“I don’t mind,” she said in a small voice. “I just figured Derrick would want to know the English names for the different kinds of birds up on the roof.”

Every word she said was making me feel like an even bigger moron. “He talks about it nonstop now that his secret is out.”

“He could watch them for hours. We go up to the rooftop at least once a day. Elyse even came one time.”

Unbeknownst to Cara or the children, I’d had my maintenance staff thoroughly check the route they used to get up there. And once a day, someone went up to inspect the area and make sure there wasn’t anything unsafe. “Thank you for getting this book for him.”

“You’re welcome.” Cara’s voice was somewhat formal. I didn’t blame her after the way I’d acted.

Nevertheless, the silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable. Cara declined my offer of more whiskey but seemed content to stare into the fire by my side.

At last, she unfolded her legs and slid to the edge of the cushion. “I should probably—”

“I wanted to tell you something,” I said, interrupting her.

She turned to me with questioning eyes.

“Some friends of mine are coming on Tuesday. An old college buddy from the US and his wife.”

“That’s good you’ll get to see them.”

I nodded. “I’m looking forward to it. Blake and Penny have two kids. The girl is four or five, and the little boy just turned one. In the afternoon, perhaps you could plan a playdate for them with the twins.”

“I think they’d like that, Nico.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that rose to my lips. In spite of my somewhat less than gallant behavior with Cara tonight, it seemed a good sign that she was still calling me by my first name. “Then after the kids eat, we’ll have a more formal meal.”

She nodded. “I’ll keep them out of your way.”

My brows drew together as I stared at her. Her blue eyes looked impossibly huge in the firelight. “No… I mean, I’d like you to join us for dinner.”

The slow smile on her face denoted both surprise and pleasure. “I… I’d like that. Thank you.”

“It’ll give you a chance to talk with your compatriots.” I stood up and held my hand out to her.

She took it, rising gracefully to her feet. “Yes, it will.”

I handed her the coat and book, and showed her to the front door of my office. “Do you know how to get back to your room from here?”

“Of course,” she said, her voice more confident than the expression on her face.

“Good.” She turned to the right and I subtly tilted my head in the other direction.

Cara smiled up at me as she swung around. “Good night, Nico.”

“Good night, Cara.”

As she walked away, I watched to make sure she turned the correct way at the end of the long hallway.

At least I told myself that’s why I watched until she was out of sight.