If things were crazy before, they’d hit a boiling point.

They’d hit a point of no return.

I was in love with Adele. Completely, utterly, and forever in love with her. She was everything I’d missed in my life, and there wasn’t a chance I was going to let go of that.

So it was time.

It was time to put it all on the line.

I dressed slowly in that room in King Lucian’s palace, knowing what had to be done. The case had been building for months, and I’d been putting it off, because I knew bringing it to light could mean my life.

Literally.

To simply say Queen Mallory wasn’t as “nice” as the Queen before her wasn’t fair, that I’d grant her. She’d stepped into a role that had big shoes to fill, and if she hadn’t cared much to try and fill them, so be it. I knew that life sometimes wanted you to be something you didn’t want to be all too well.

And if that had been it, then so be it. So what if Mallory was mean? Surprise, queens were mean all over the world.

Except I’d learned more.

The deal to bring an end to the fighting with the separatists had been my idea — King Lorne wasn’t wrong about that. I’d been fighting with my own countrymen for too long, and it had to end. My own contacts within the “enemy” ranks confirmed that both sides wanted a truce, too, except for that little dark secret that came to light after I finally bribed and prodded the right people.

And when I found out, it’d shook me to my core. After all, it was big — bigger than big.

You see, it was well-known that Mallory was pulling the strings. Everyone knew King Lorne’s new wife was speaking through him. But again, wives did that sometimes, especially wives of kings.

Except it turns out that she was doing a lot more than talking behind the scenes.

She was plotting.

The day I found out the separatists movement was being funded by Mallory was a dark one. When I found out the bankroll for the whole thing was coming from her — through shell corporations of course, but confirmed by a few trusted sources — I knew it might mean my life. After all, what the hell could I do with that? If I brought it to light, I was likely to be killed standing up against a firing squad wall by a vengeful king who didn’t believe me and tried me for treason. Or if he somehow didn’t do that, I’d be killed in my sleep by a vengeful queen whose dirty secret had been revealed.

So I’d sat on it. I’d sat on it, and kept my mouth shut, waiting for more information, so if I ever did say something, it would be beyond refute.

But the timetable had just moved up, because Mallory had overplayed her hand. With her threats to Adele about how she’d “find someone for her” if she didn’t find a suitor tonight, she’d shown her cards, to me at least. Because I knew what that meant. That meant marrying Adele off to a separatist loyalist — a Mallory puppet. God knew what that meant for King Lorne, but I had a feeling it meant not waking up one day. After that, Mallory would have control of the country, through Adele and her puppet husband.

Couple that with the fact that I was in love with the Princess?

Well, it meant Mallory had just poked the bear. The time to act was now, come what may. I straightened my tie and fixed the collar of my tuxedo jacket. It wasn’t the uniform I usually wore into battle, but it’d have to do tonight.

I stalked back through the ball until I found her. This time, I didn’t shy away about touching her. Fuck it, and fuck all these people. I took her by the hand, spun her around, and there, in front of all those fancy royal types, the big scary soldier man kissed his princess for the whole damn world to see.

I kissed her with everything I had in me, searing every single feeling I had for her into those sweet lips, before I pulled away.

“Let’s go.”

She nodded, her hand tightening in mine as I pulled her from the room, not giving a shit about everyone staring at us.

“And where might we be going?”

“Home.”

The helicopter pilot, Martin, was a friend of mine from the Royal Guard, and after I’d pulled his ass away from a grenade in Kabul? Well, let’s say he owed me this one. He nodded through the windshield as we stepped onto King Lucian’s helipad, the rotors already going.

“Damon!”

I turned, grinning at her as the wind whipped around us, her gown billowing in the air from the rotors as she shook her head and smiled at me.

“What are we doing?”

“Saving the kingdom, baby girl.”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?”

She smiled as she stepped into me, kissing me softly.

“Always.”

“Good, cause I’m going to need it when I tell your father that his wife is trying to take over the kingdom.”

Her jaw dropped

“I’ll explain on the ride. Oh, and Princess?”

I grinned as I pulled her close. “I’m also going to tell him I’m in love with his daughter, in case you’re curious.”

It took Martin blaring a warning fire on the helicopter’s foghorn to get us to finally pull apart. And after that, it was back to Berne, back to face the music, and back to tell my boss and my King that I wanted to marry his daughter.