Two men come into the room, both wearing suits and business-like expressions. One sits opposite me and one stands. I don’t say anything, and they both look at me hard for a long moment.

Then the man sitting down leans forward.

“All right, Prince Bruno,” he says. “Let’s hear what happened.”

I tell them, as simply as I can: the princess being absent, looking for her, following the noises in the dungeon, grabbing the unused garden equipment from where it was stored in a cell, fighting Sven’s men. I’m fully aware that, somewhere close by, Dom’s telling the exact same story.

I can’t tell if they believe me.

They ask minute, detailed questions about every aspect of it. I describe the same thirty-second period over and over until I feel like I might be making it up, and yet, they don’t stop.

And then, at last, both men flip through their notes. They’ve both removed their suit jackets and are pacing around the small room, looking like they want a cigarette.

“The only thing I don’t understand,” one says. “Is why all this happened. Wasn’t Sven going to marry the Princess anyway?”

I stay silent, staring at the wall.

“Why would he feel the need to do it now, by force?” he goes on. “And why were the two of you the ones to rescue her?”

I keep staring.

“You know what I think,” the other man says. “I think maybe they put Sven up to it so they could be heroes, and things got a little out of control.”

“That’s not what happened,” I finally say, looking at them.

“You sure?” the first man asks.

I clench my teeth together. I take a deep breath. I look from one man to the other.

Between Dom and I, I’ve always been the guy who does stuff. Who takes action. He’s the guy who knows what to say.

“Because it sure seems like that’s what happened,” the second man says.

I clear my throat.

“Prince Dominic, Princess Katarina and I have a somewhat unusual relationship,” I start.

* * *

It’s almost sunup when they let us go to our chambers again, but they let us go, so I don’t care what time it is. I’m under heavy guard, and they station several men outside my door, but I hardly notice.

All they’ll tell me about the Princess is that she’s fine, so that has to be good enough for me.

I’m on house arrest for the next two days. I’m brought my meals in my chambers — which are a small suite of rooms — so I don’t get to leave. I can’t even communicate with Dom, even though I ask the guards again and again to let me speak with him.

I can only assume he’s also under house arrest.

The third day, I’m lying on a couch, staring at Tomassian television without watching it, when there’s a knock on the door, and I nearly throw the remote across the room answering it.

Katarina’s standing there, four armed guards behind her.

“Princess,” I say, relief finally flooding through my body that she’s here, she’s okay, she’s definitely okay.

She turns to the guards behind her, thanks them, then steps inside my chambers. I shut the door behind her, and then we’re alone.

“Bru—”

I just wrap her in my arms, holding her as close as I can, practically crushing her against me. She holds me tight too, and we just stand that way for a long time, until I finally let go.

I kiss her, gently and sweetly and tenderly, all the ways she should be kissed, and then pull away, staring into her eyes.

“I love you,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry about all this, but I love you.”

She puts one hand over mine, lacing our fingers together, and smiles.

“I love you too,” she says. “And you won’t be under house arrest for too much longer. I’ve been talking to my father, and I think he’s coming around.”

I raise both my eyebrows in surprise.

“Coming around to letting us marry you?”

Katarina just laughs, the sound so bright and happy that I smile, too.

“Right,” she says. “I think me nearly being kidnapped might have softened him up a little.”

I kiss her again, anticipation pounding through my veins. Our princess married to us — both of us. It’ll be a little weird. It’ll get some taking used to, but I think we can make it work.

I want it to work.

“I can’t stay,” Katarina says, pushing my hand out from under her skirt. “I’m sorry. They’re coming in after five minutes, and the last time we got caught...”

I sigh, leaning my forehead against hers.

“I know,” I say. “I love you. I can’t wait.”

“Me either,” she whispers, then kisses me and leaves.