“It’s okay,” Jannika says. “We’re safe here.”

I grind my teeth together. “He...he left me!”

“Rikard is impulsive,” Jannika says.

“It’s supposed to be our wedding day―our wedding night,” I say, feeling the sudden urge to cry.

“They will want to stage an offensive against the artillery positions,” Jannika says. “It’s the best way to prevent more civilian casualties―”

“But he’s the prince!” I say, grabbing her shoulders. “Does the king need to go in and fight, too? Is this the Middle Ages?”

Jannika bites her lip. “The generals will certainly be angry when they find out that Rikard joined the offensive.”

“Not as angry as me!” I say, feeling the rage burning in me

I’m not really mad that I’m missing out on my wedding night―okay, maybe I’m a little upset about that―but I’m mostly angry that Rikard could get himself killed less than fifteen minutes after marrying me. After vowing to be with me for the rest of our lives.

I’ll have to set that stubborn man’s priorities straight when he gets back.

If he gets back.

My family is all safe. They were still in the cathedral when the artillery hit, and the cathedral was―miraculously, some say―spared from any direct hits.

We’ve been told that the shelling has died down, but there are still hundreds of injured people, and I’m worried that there will be all-out war. The start of a war cannot be a good omen for a princess's wedding day.

“Jannika,” I say. “Do you think there’s any chance that…”

I trail off, not even wanting to say it.

“What?” she asks.

“This is sensitive...I shouldn’t ask it,” I say.

“You’re my sister now,” she says. “Ask.”

We’re in a small room within the fallout shelter. My family is in the cafeteria, but I have no appetite.

“Siegfried betrayed us...do you think Magnus―”

“No,” Jannika says. “We can trust Magnus. Not only because I know we can trust him, but think about it logically.”

“I’m no good at politics,” I say.

“Look,” she says. “Siegfried is in line after me, and then Magnus comes after him.”

“I know,” I say. “Why does that mean Magnus wouldn’t betray us?”

“Siegfried needs to kill as many competitors as possible to secure his position. He tried to kill Rikard, and I expect he’ll try to kill me, if he gets a chance. He’d probably like Magnus gone as well.”

“So why not bring Magnus in with him?” I ask. “So he’s not a threat?”

“If Magnus betrays Rikard, that means he’s not trustworthy, right?”

“I guess,” I say, shrugging.

“So then Siegfried has to watch his back, worried that untrustworthy Magnus will take him out, making him third in line rather than fourth. It’s much easier just to kill him, or even to leave him be.”

“I see,” I say. “So I guess I’ve asked the most invasive question already, now I’ll ask one that doesn’t seem as bad.”

“What’s that?” Jannika asks.

“Is Magnus gay?” I ask, thinking of Jake.

“No,” Jannika says. “He’s not. Why?”

“No reason,” I say. “Just curious…”

“Was Jake curious?” Jannika asks.

I bite my lip. “Maybe, but if he’s straight, then it’s a non-issue.”

“There are many strong gay men in the army,” Jannika says. “We can find one for Jake.”

I laugh at the idea of strong gay Nordian soldiers lining up for my brother, but I probably owe it to him after inviting him to a wedding that turned into a civil war.

“I’m wondering if I shouldn’t just get my family out of here as soon as the airport’s open,” I say.

Jannika nods to me. “It may be for the best. We’ve had peace for over fifty years, Jane, so it’s a shame that the timing was so bad for you and your family.”

I laugh nervously. “I’m almost worried people will think I’m some kind of cursed princess―like I brought this whole thing with me. The first attack happened only a few hours after my plane hit the tarmac.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Jannika says. “This was all brewing and bubbling up long before you arrived. No one will blame you.”

Superstitious people still might, but I don’t want to make Jannika have to keep reassuring me. I swallow the rest of my worries and just smile, letting her think that I’m okay.

I’m worried to death about Rikard. The explosions have finally died down―it’s been ten minutes since I heard one. That has to be a good sign, right? If Rikard’s attack failed, then the artillery would still be firing. Then again, what the hell do I know? Everything I know about military conflicts is from a few courses I was forced to take as part of my anthropology studies. I’ve only been interested in wars in as far as they disrupt human settlements and society. I’ve never given a rat’s ass about what kind of weapons or tactics were used during the actual fighting.

And now that my husband―God, it still feels so weird to even think that word, let alone say it―is neck-deep in an actual battle, I suddenly care a lot about military tactics.

“What will they do after they stop the artillery?” I ask.

Jannika bites her lip again as she gives it some thought. Then she says, “Unless it’s a total slaughter, I expect they’ll likely have to push forward even more and gain a foothold in Sydia.”

“Why?” I ask. “Isn’t it dangerous to just rush in on a counter-attack with no plan?”

“Well,” Jannika says. “There are plans. The generals have been drafting all kinds of contingency plans for almost a decade, ever since the Sydian separatists started rumbling about independence. Nordia and Sydia are like North and South Korea, meaning the capital is extremely close to the Sydian border.”

“Which is why they can hit us with artillery from there, right?”

“Right,” Jannika says. “And that’s why I expect they will try to gain a foothold deeper into Sydia. At least far enough that they can’t shell the capital again from the border.”

“I see,” I say. “Do you think Rikard will...stay there?”

“No,” Jannika says, shaking her head. “Everyone is already furious that he went out there in the first place. As soon as the fighting dies down a bit, I expect a squad will be sent in to pull him away from the fighting.”

“Thank God,” I say.