“I knew I could pull it off,” I snap. “And I did. No casualties.”

“There were six casualties,” Ekdhal says.

I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean, sir.”

“Breivik’s dismissal was your fault, Your Highness,” Ekdahl says.

“Please drop the ‘Your Highness’ shit,” I snap. “I’m being debriefed as a soldier.”

“With respect, Your Highness,” Ekdahl says, “but a soldier cannot disobey orders. Only a spoiled prince can.”

I glare at him. He’s strong and compact, but at least a foot shorter than me. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Then I realize he is my superior in the chain of command. I can’t ask for treatment as a soldier one moment, then play the royalty card the next.

“The contradiction,” I say, “is that was I not the spoiled prince, I would have been able to fully make use of my training, sir. Only because of my place in line for the throne am I ordered not to take part in such operations. Sir.”

He scowls at me. “You want to protect this country? If you were a regular soldier, we might ask you to give your life to protect the future king. Since you are the future king, Your Highness, we ask you to protect yourself.”

“And I did,” I say. “Not a scratch on me.”

“While your father is indisposed, you are on forced leave,” Ekdahl says, “I don’t even want to see you in uniform.”

I glare at him, knowing there’s no way I’ll get out of this.

“Understood, sir.”

“I also hear that you brought an American woman into the palace. What if she hears about your father?” Ekdahl says.

“She wouldn’t talk,” I say with confidence.

“Curious,” he says. “Don’t you think? She was in the castle at the same time as the separatists, and she was the only one in there who spotted you. Six trained soldiers didn’t see you, but plain Jane from America did.”

“Are you insinuating that she is some kind of Sydian spy?” I ask.

“It’s my job to be suspicious,” Ekdahl says.

“And what is my job now, sir? Now that I’m on...leave.”

Ekdahl shrugs. “Find a new hobby, Your Highness. You lack the discipline required to be a real soldier.”

I stare him down. If my father doesn’t make it and I become king, Ekdahl will be first on the chopping block. He knows that, too, so why would he take such a hard line with me?

“Noted, sir,” I say.

“Your Highness,” he says standing stiffly, and I take that as my cue to leave.

I spend about fifteen minutes freshening up and changing into a suit, and then I take the elevator up to Jane’s rooms.

The elevator doors open, and I see something I’m quite sure I wasn’t supposed to see.

Jane is standing completely naked in front of the Roman bath. Her big, full breasts are so perky that her nipples are pointing straight at me, and I can see that she’s cleanly shaven between her thighs, a gap forming between her legs and letting in a hint of diffused light from the huge light on the ceiling. I notice that she’s closed the sunroof so that I can’t peek in from my room, though here I am peeking right in front of her.

“Wow,” I say, grinning.

She turns red in an instant, and she struggles to cover her body, but she’s only able to cover her breasts, and I still have a perfect view of everything else. She looks around―probably in search of a towel―but failing to find one, she dives into the pool.

I laugh, and my laugh echoes off the high ceilings and marble columns.

“You dick!” she shouts. “You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“I suppose I did tell you to call me ‘Dick,’ I say, “but within the palace, Rikard will do―”

“Dick!” she says, jabbing a finger at me. I can no longer see her body clearly through the water, and I focus on her eyes, which are still burning with anger. Her cheeks are flushed red.

“What kind of design is this?” she snaps. “The bath is right in front of the elevator door, which apparently anyone can just appear through without warning?”

“It’s my fault,” I say, taking a few steps closer toward the bath. “No one has the key but me and you, and I...I probably should have let you know I was on the way.”

“Give me the key,” she snaps.

I grin and pull it out of my pocket. “Want me to throw it into the water?”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, hold onto it, but promise you won’t come up again without calling first.”

“I promise,” I say.

Her shoulders heave with relief, but she stays ducked down low so the water covers her body.

“I’ve got my swimming suit on underneath this suit,” I say. “If you’d like me to join you, that is.”

“Who wears a swimming suit under a suit?” she asks.

“The same swimming suit you’re wearing,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

Her face gets even more red than before, and she points back toward the bedroom. “Go into the bedroom, then take the door into the living room...and wait for me there! And shut the bedroom door behind you once you’re in there.”

I smile. “I was just thinking that since I’ve already seen you naked, it would only be fair if―”

“Go!” she snaps, pointing toward the open doors.

I put up my palms toward her, admitting defeat―for now―and head toward the bedroom. I’m somewhat tempted to look around the bedroom, but I’ve already invaded her privacy enough as it is. I walk right through the room, close the door behind me, and sit down in the living room while I wait for her to get dressed.

It feels like it takes ages, but finally the door opens, and Jane steps into the living room. Her hair is still so wet it’s dripping down onto the marble floor.

“Don’t rush on my behalf,” I say.

“I assumed you’re busy, and―”

I laugh. “I was just put on leave, so it seems I won’t be very busy in the near future.”

“Put on leave?” I ask.

“They can’t fire me,” I say. “But they can force me on vacation.”

She’s wearing a white bathrobe, but it’s wrapped tight to keep everything out of my view―not that each and every curve isn’t burned into my memory―and she puts her hands on her hips and scoffs.

“What?” I ask.

“As an adjunct,” she says, “I don’t ever get a real vacation. Any time I take off is unpaid, and even that is rare. You’re so spoiled that vacation is a punishment for you.”

“Looks to me,” I say, “like you’re on vacation now.”

I point to the marble columns, reminding her that she’s in the Nordian palace.

“I’m not getting paid, though,” she says.

I laugh. “Fair enough. So how are you enjoying the palace?”

“It’s…” she says. “Honestly, Dick―”

“Rikard,” I say.

She ignores me and continues. “It’s very fancy, but I felt pretty uncomfortable getting in here. You had people take my stuff from my hotel without even asking me, and some security guy gave me the full-blown TSA treatment at the gate―”

“I’m sorry,” I say, cutting her off. “I should have simply gone with you. It would have made things easier. As a prince, I’m used to people moving my things without asking, or making me deal with paranoid security procedures that can often delay me for hours. You’re not a princess, and you’re just…”

“Common,” she says, giving me a slight smile.

“Not the word I’d use,” I say. “But technically, it’s true. I apologize that I didn’t put myself in your shoes to realize what would make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Apology accepted,” she says. “Now apologize for barging into my bath.”

I flash an evil grin. “I can’t say I’m sorry about that―”

“Rikard,” she says, raising a finger to me.

“Alright,” I say. “I apologize for the act, but not for the―”

“Apology accepted,” she says, not allowing me to share any further innuendo with her.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this,” I say.

Shit, why am I telling her this? Is it because I trust her? Or because I want to get back at Ekdahl? Maybe both.

“But the king, my father, had a stroke.”

She puts a hand over her mouth.

“He’s stable now, but there’s no way of knowing if he’s going to recover, or if―”

She rushes closer to me, takes my hand in hers, and locks eyes with me. “He’ll be okay.”

“I appreciate the optimism,” I say, running a finger along her hand and looking down at her. “But my father raised me to be a realist. The doctors don’t know yet, and―”

“He will be okay,” she says, so resolutely that I almost believe her.

“If he’s okay,” I say, “and recovers quickly, then I’ll do what I can to get…”

I trail off, realizing she doesn’t know that my actions today got General Breivik fired, and that this asshole Ekdahl took over.

“I’ll do what I can to right things,” I say. “And to return to active duty.”

She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t really see where I’m going with this.

“If he doesn’t recover,” I say, “I will take his place, and, well…”

She locks eyes with me. She knows the Nordian law. She knows I’d have to marry a commoner before I could take the throne. Does she really believe my father will recover, or is she just trying to reassure me?”

“My flight back to the U.S. is in six days,” she says.

“To be honest with you,” I say, still holding her hand. “You’re the only commoner I’ve ever spoken more than a few words to.”

“What about your maids?” I ask.

I laugh, thinking about marrying one of my maids.

“Let’s just assume you are right,” I say. “And that my father will be fine. Let’s assume we have all the time in the world…”

“In that case,” Jane says, finally letting go of my hand, but smiling wider, “I’d like to see you again tomorrow, Mr. Nordgaard.”