We enter the “war room,” which is covered in big flat panel screens displaying maps and live feeds from scouting drones. It’s basically a huge command center several floors below the ground, hardened against EMPs or conventional bombs.

Magnus and the king turn to look at me, and for a brief moment seem surprised to see me with my husband, but then they just nod in acknowledgment and go back to studying their maps.

I’m wearing my crown since Rikard said it would be appropriate in this situation, giving weight to my position.

I thought Rikard might stop me from coming with him, but it seems that the Nordians aren’t completely sexist. They won’t allow women in the armed forces, but they’ll allow them in the war room. At least they will, it seems, if it’s the princess.

“Settling in well?” the king asks me.

I give him a slight bow, as I’ve been practicing. Now that I’m princess, I’m not supposed to bow too deeply to him, lest I offend him. But, as I’ve been learning, royalty is a tricky thing. If I don’t bow at all, I offend him. If I bow too much, I also offend him.

“Yes, Your Highness,” I say. “I just heard about the ceasefire, so I asked Rikard if I could join him.”

“I see,” he says. “It will give us time to regroup and plan for anything that might come next.”

“It will also give them time to regroup after their humiliating retreat last night,” Rikard says.

The king scowls at him, and I do my best to retain a calm, neutral expression.

“I was going to send a messenger to notify your family,” the king says, directing his attention to me. “To let them know that the airport is re-opening, and I’ll have them transported here in armored, guarded vehicles so they can leave during the ceasefire.”

“Oh, I can tell them,” I say, and smile. “Thank you for your kindness and generosity.”

The king smiles in return. “Give them my apologies, as well. I’m sorry they had to be here during these troubling times.”

“They’re glad they were able to attend the wedding,” I say. “Even with the little hiccup.”

I probably shouldn’t call artillery bombardment a hiccup, but the king laughs at my choice of words.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he says, turning to Rikard. “But we will meet with their leaders on the border.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Rikard asks. “Not you―”

“It needs to be me,” the king says. “At this point...you’re more valuable than I am, Rikard.”

I feel uncomfortable hearing him say it, but I realize he’s being practical and realistic. If Rikard was killed or kidnapped, Jannika would become the next heir in line. Not that she isn’t or wouldn’t be a capable leader, but she hasn’t been preparing for the role like Rikard has been, and she’s not married either. If the king was killed, Rikard would assume power.

“It should be me,” Rikard says. “I know how Siegfried works.”

The king throws up his hands in frustration. “I’ve known him since he was a boy. I thought I knew how he ‘worked,’ too, but can any of us claim we know him? Who among us anticipated his betrayal? Did you? I certainly didn’t.”

Rikard grinds his teeth, but his expression is one of defeat. He knows the king is right.

“They want to negotiate anyway,” the king says. “They stand to gain little from becoming hostile during negotiations, since that would all but guarantee the outbreak of total war.”

I see something flicker in Rikard’s eye. Maybe that’s the real reason he doesn’t want Rikard to go. I can easily imagine Rikard just taking Siegfried out during the ceasefire, forcing the conflict to erupt, and it end in a ‘unified’ Nordia.

The anthropologist in me agrees with the king rather than Rikard. You don’t convince someone to stay in your club by beating them up when he tries to leave. Even if you beat him unconscious and drag him back into the clubhouse, how long will it be until he tries to leave again?

“I want you and Magnus to help General Breivik plan a counter-attack,” the king says. “Princess Jane, you should spend as much time as you can with your family before they leave. It’s best to get them out as soon possible.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” I say, bowing my head.

* * *

“Thank God,” my mom says. “I was worried we’d be stuck…”

She trails off, realizing this is my country now.

“It’s fine,” I say. “I didn’t want you to be stuck in a warzone either.”

“You should go, too,” Dad grumbles.

Mom rolls her eyes at him. “She’s the princess, Frank. How would that look?”

“Can’t be princess if you’re dead,” Dad grunts.

“Don’t say that!” my mom shouts.

I step between the two of them. This is always what spending time with my parents was like. I prefer it when they are separated.

“I appreciate the concern,” I say. “But I want to stay here, with my husband.”

My dad raises a finger at me, but I give him my best ‘princess stare.’ It’s a look Jannika helped me learn, and one I’ve been practicing. You think of how important you are and how much authority you have, and you channel it all into one reproachful look. It tends to shut up almost anyone.

My dad slinks back, and I do my best not to smile in satisfaction.

“You’ll come to the airport with us?” my mom asks hopefully. “To see us off?”

I nod. “Of course.”

Dad shrugs. “I’m going to get some more free palace food before they kick me out of here.”

I see my mom mouth “Thank God,” but thankfully she doesn’t say it out loud.

Dad turns around and walks out of the room, and my mom looks at me and announces that it’s time for her nap.

James is slouched in a chair reading a book, trying his best to ignore Mom and Dad fighting, but I noticed he has been reading the same page for at least five minutes.

I sit down in the chair across from him and smile. He drops his book to his lap and looks at me like he’s exhausted. “You think being princess in a war is hard? Try staying with those two for forty-eight hours.”

“I’m older than you,” I say. “I have two extra years with those two on you.”

James shudders. “No wonder you ended up to be such a strong person.”

“You ready to go then?” I ask.

He sighs. “I have clients back home, so I really can’t stay, even though I’d like to.”

“There’s a ceasefire, James,” I say, “but there could very well be a war. There’s no reason to stay here.”

He gives me a stubborn look.

“Magnus is straight,” I say. “I asked Jannika.”

“Damn it,” he says, picking up his book and slamming it shut. “I guess I’m ready to go then. I’ll visit you again after this crazy-ass war is over.”

I laugh. “You asshole. You’d stay here for Magnus, but not for me?”

“If that man was gay,” James says, “it would be too good to be true, so yes, I would have stayed in a heartbeat. But it is too good to be true, which is why he’s not gay.”

“I was feeling the same way about the war,” I say. “Everything would be all flowers and sunshine without it.”

“It’s like thirty degrees outside,” James says. “And the sun came out for a few hours during your wedding, otherwise it’s grey. There are no flowers. No sun.”

“You know what I mean,” I say, my mind thinking back specifically about how amazing the sex was last night.

James grins. “I know, I was just being intentionally dense to give you a hard time.”

“Thanks,” I say, rolling my eyes. “What will I do without you?”

* * *

My family is loaded into armored Humvees, and I’m astonished at the number of extra military vehicles and soldiers all standing by ready to escort us.

“This seems like too much,” I say.

Rikard shakes his head. “It’s barely enough. It’s the most we could afford to spare from the border.”

“There are like fifty men,” I say.

“Enough men so that a small squad couldn’t touch you,” Rikard says. “They can’t get more than five or six soldiers through the border on us. Fifty is just the right number.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

Rikard leans down and kisses me, and I clutch onto him and kiss him back. We kiss for longer than is likely appropriate given our surroundings, but they’ll forgive us since we are newly married.

I feel a glow filling me when he finally pulls away, and he nods and walks off.

Magnus tips his head to me. “You’ll be safe.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I say.

Then I feel something near my shoulder, and I turn around to see James standing behind me. He’s looking at Magnus with a dumb grin on his face, and Magnus is trying to ignore him.

I elbow James, but he doesn’t move.

“I’ll make sure Rikard stays put,” Magnus says.

I sigh with relief. “You promise?”

“Yes,” he says. “He’s not going anywhere. He’ll be here for you when you come back.”

“Magnus,” James says.

I feel my chest tighten, worried about what idiotic thing James might say to him.

“Yes?” Magnus asks, looking past me toward James.

“If you have to fight, be careful,” James says. “I’ve only ever shot people on Xbox-Live, so the only advice I can give you is to stay behind cover.”

Magnus laughs. “Good advice. And I’ll jump around and move wildly from side to side. Maybe I’ll even jump and crouch in mid-air to make myself into a smaller target so they can’t hit me, either.”

James laughs. “Kill ten guys in a row, and they’ll let you call in an airstrike.”

Magnus laughs, too, and grabs James by the hand, shaking it with vigor.

James beams at him, and I feel extremely embarrassed. “Well then,” I say, pulling James away. “We need to get going now. I’ll be back in a few hours!”

“See you soon, Princess Jane,” Magnus says.

When I get in the Humvee with James, he lets out a sad sigh. “Jane, I made him laugh. Did you hear his beautiful laugh?”

“I heard it,” I say. “But he’s still straight.”

“If only there was a joke so witty that it could turn a straight man gay,” James says.

“That one wasn’t it. I didn’t even get it. What the hell were you guys even talking about?”

He huffs at me. “I tried to get you to play Xbox with me, but you never wanted to. Seems like Magnus has played Call of Duty.”

“Every boy has,” I say, “but that doesn’t make you two soulmates or something.”

“I know,” he says. “Don’t worry, Princess Jane, I’m just giving you a hard time again. I just wanted to tell Magnus to be safe without creeping him out, so I made an innocent little joke.”

“He had better stay safe,” I say, “and keep Rikard from doing anything crazy.”