The lobster arrives on a large platter. Its red shell looks even more vibrant under the dim candlelight, glistening in butter.

Jane closes her eyes, takes a deep whiff, and smiles. “This night is too perfect.”

I bite my lip and smile. It will be even more perfect once I get her to bed. There’s nothing like fucking when it’s snowing outside, warm in bed when―

I hear a low droning noise, and some kind of soldier instinct deep within me is set off.

I look up, but I don’t stand. I don’t want to panic Jane unless―

Suddenly there’s a shout, and I hear the radio crackle from just inside the doorway.

As I jump to my feet, I see one of the guards posted inside the cathedral with us jump out into the aisle and into our view. Wooden splinters are flying behind him.

I hear another radio crackle, and a second guard rushes into the aisle from the other side. “Prince Rikard, get―”

He doesn’t need to finish speaking. I grab Jane and kick the table over. It falls in front of us, its big wooden mass landing between the door and Jane. I pull her down behind the table and look her dead in the eye.

“Stay here. Do not move.” The look I send her is serious, and I’m praying she won’t fight me on this. She nods hastily, and I jump out from behind the table.

“It looks clear!” the guard shouts back to me.

Each guard is standing on either side of the entranceway. There’s a big stone wall blocking my view of the door, but from the guards’ angle, they can see it.

“Looks like a bus, Your Highness,” one shouts to me, never taking his eyes off the gun’s sights.

A bus? What the hell?

But fuck. Why here? The restaurant isn’t even supposed to be open today, so the only reason they’d attack here is to get to me. Then my blood chills. Or to get…to Jane.

There’s a commotion from the kitchen, and I see chefs and serving staff peering out its doors nervously, and then they’re all ducking away when they notice the drawn guns.

I shout back to them. “Is there a back exit?”

At that moment, I hear screams coming from the kitchen as machine gun fire erupts.

Chefs and wait staff start pouring out of the kitchen door into the main room. I see a cook struggling desperately to close the door behind him, even as another woman tries to escape. She coughs up blood and collapses, blocking the door.

“Kitchen!” I shout to one of the guards.

Jane rushes out from behind table and catches up to me. I grab her hand as the guard turns his back from the main entranceway and raises his rifle to the kitchen door. I reach his side, and I pull his pistol out of its holster, bringing a third gun to our aid, even if it’s just a pistol.

I spread out from him, not taking my eyes off the kitchen, or my hand off Jane’s.

“Front door still secure!” the other guard shouts back.

Fuck. I know there’s a shooter in the kitchen, but I don’t know what’s going on with the bus.

“Can we get out the front?” I shout.

“Not easily, Your Highness,” the guard furthest from me says. “The bus has broken through, but the vehicle is blocking the way out. You’d have to crawl through the length of bus, and―”

I raise a hand, silencing him.

They probably just have one or two men with eyes on the bus. Anyone dumb enough to crawl through the splintered door would be easily picked off.

The cooks and wait staff rush toward the bus anyway, and from this angle I can see it now. The front of the bus was crumpled so bad from the impact that the door is only a few inches wide. They start shouting at each other in panic. Some boost each other up to fiddle with the windows. I see a man grab a wooden chair and smash out a window. It won’t be long before they are climbing up and out into the bus.

I can’t spare any attention to focus on them, not yet. Jane is my only priority, and I know that whoever is opening fire in the kitchen will likely make their move on us soon.

But I’m wrong.

From high above, the sound of shattering glass catches my attention, and I look up to see dozens of stained glass windows shattering apart. The shards of glass rain down in a prism of color dropping at our feet… and then I see the first grenade.

I leap back, grabbing Jane. I fall flat on my back, cushioning her fall, and the moment I make contact with the ground, I roll over and cover her body with mine. I should be able to absorb the brunt of the―

The grenade goes off, and the blast nearly blows my ears out, but I don’t feel any shrapnel hitting my body. There’s a blinding flash, and―

Fuck, a flashbang!

I grab Jane and pull her to her feet. She obviously didn’t shield her eyes properly because she’s squinting and disoriented. I’ve been hit with dozens of flashbangs in training. I know what it means.

I raise my pistol toward the broken windows, as does the guard.

We see at least six men rappelling down from the vaulted and painted ceilings, like black angels.

“Stay down!” I shout to Jane. Can she even hear me? My ears are still ringing. I can’t hear me! Either way, I shove her down under another table. She doesn’t even have to tip it over to be safe now.

I open fire, but the men don’t fire back even as I hit the first one. He loses his grip on his rope and crashes down onto the stone floor, crunching onto the stained glass shards.

Another flashbang hits the ground, clanking and rolling toward us.

Now, I realize, I’m fucked.

If I ignore it, I’ll be too blinded to hit a target. If I take cover, I’ll be a sitting duck.

I open fire, and the guard beside me does as well. If we can hit as many guys as possible before it goes off, maybe we’ll stand a chance.

I hit another terrorist, but then the flash goes off.