My head almost bumps the mirror over the sink in the bathroom. The wheels on the train are screeching as it comes to a lurching halt—only a few seconds after we’d started to move again.

The chill running up my spine makes no real sense—it isn’t as though I should know that this has anything to do with Andrew. And yet, I somehow do.

I rush out of the bathroom and into the dining car. The glut of people are no longer seated—they are all fighting for a space at the window on one side of the train, trying to see some commotion going on outside.

And then I see the sidelong glances the passengers are giving each other. Hear the whispers.

“Prince Andrew jumped.”

“I knew it! He really was trying to kill himself in that airplane.”

“The pressure is too much.”

“He’s not fit to be a king.”

I don’t even allow myself to think or wonder why Andrew might have jumped from a moving train.

This is my fault. I never should have slept with him again. I shouldn’t have given him any sort of hope at all that we could be more than friends. Part of me hoped he understood that what happened in that private compartment was some sort of farewell sex or something. That it didn’t have to mean anything. That he could go back to his real life now.

And instead—he jumped?

Maybe he didn’t want to go back to his normal life. Maybe the two of us being together again hurt him in some way I can’t imagine. I know he’s been dealing with a lot. The whole pageant thing hasn’t helped at all. And he hasn’t been quite right since the plane went down.

And then it hits me. Maybe he wasn’t right before the plane went down.

Maybe I don’t know Andrew at all. Maybe he’s more depressed than I realized. Maybe he really has been holding on by a thread all this time and I just didn’t see it.

I weave my way through the crowd to get to an exit—the train had only barely begun to leave, but only the last few cars are even near the platform.

Another crowd has formed outside, though it’s smaller than the group still fighting to see through the windows on the train.

I stand at the edge of the platform, watching the group crowded around Andrew.

And something is wrong. People are trying to help him, I think—my German isn’t very good, but what I can make out sounds like offers of assistance.

But Andrew is thrashing against them—waving his arms wildly, saying something in German I can’t understand. But then he yells—in English—and it’s clear what’s going on.

“Get away from me! I need to find her!”

My heart twists with guilt. What he’s saying can only mean one thing—he’s trying to find me. He thought I left him.

So he jumped?

I walk over to him, edging my way past a couple of men who are trying to hold Andrew back—I’m not sure what they’re saying to him, but whatever it is sounds almost threatening.

“Andrew.” I try to keep my voice even. “Andrew, what are you doing?”

His shoulders drop and he freezes—everything seems to freeze for a moment—and he slowly turns.

His mouth falls open when our eyes meet.

I look at each of the men surrounding Andrew, nodding with gratitude to each of them.

They finally begin to leave, a couple of them patting Andrew on the shoulder as they do.

And he stands there, his jaw almost on the platform as he stares at me.

I let out another long breath. “What are you doing?” I repeat my question.

He shakes his head ever so slowly, as though he thinks he’s imagining me.

I walk over to him after the last man has left and take his elbow, leading him into the train station.

I ignore the stares as we walk through the crowded area and out to the street.

We cross the street and weave through the people on the sidewalk until the crowds thin out a little. I see a cafe across the next street.

I finally turn to Andrew. “Do you have any money?”

His eyebrows draw together with confusion. “Money?”

“Yes, Andrew, money. I had to leave my bag back there on the train to come after you. The bag that had my wallet. And my money.” I close my eyes for a moment before looking back over to him. “Not to mention my passport and identification.”

“I…” He shakes his head and looks behind him in the direction of the train station. “We’ll have it replaced. When we get back to Montovia—”

I sigh. “I’ve already told you. I’m not going back to Montovia, Andrew. But you didn’t answer my question. Do you have any money?”

He frowns, nodding. “I have my wallet.” He pats at his back pocket before he turns his gaze back to mine. His eyes widen as he pats his other pockets. “I…I had a wallet. It must have fallen out—”

“During our romp through the private compartment? It figures.” I frown, not sure if I’m more disappointed that I’ve lost my identification or that I won’t be able to get a much-needed coffee.

I spot an empty bench a short distance from the cafe. I motion for him to follow me to it.

Andrew follows close behind, sitting down next to me.

I turn to him. “Phone?”

“I beg your pardon?” His forehead crinkles.

“Do you have it? Your phone?”

He blinks at me a few times before he shakes his head. “I left it with the driver. I…I didn’t think I was going to be staying on the train.” His eyes close. “I have no idea what’s happening to me.” He runs a hand through his hair before opening his eyes and turning to me. “It isn’t like me to leave my phone. Or to lose my wallet.”

I lift an eyebrow. “What about jumping from a moving train?”

His eyes are wild, and there’s something choked about his voice. “I…I thought you had gone. You…you kissed me on the temple. You said something to me before you disappeared—”

“I said I needed to use the bathroom. If I had known it was going to make you jump off a train, I probably could have held it till we reached Prague.”

He shakes his head before dropping it into his hands. “You must think me a fool.”

“I don’t think you’re a fool, Andrew.” I reach over and touch his shoulder. “I think you probably need someone to talk to. I think…I think I’m concerned about how you’re dealing with—”

“If you think I jumped from the train for any reason other than to find you, you’re mistaken.” He lifts his head just enough to meet my gaze. “I was only trying to find you.”

“I get that. I suppose I haven’t been the best at facing our issues. But I didn’t run away this time. I only went to use the restroom, I swear.” I blow out another long breath. “But I am concerned about how you’re choosing to deal with things.” I lower my voice, though there’s no one around listening. “The thing on the tower is very concerning. And when you add that with what happened today and what happened when the plane went down—”

He sits upright, regaining his regal posture. “I assure you, Victoria, there was nothing untoward about our flight from Los Angeles. I had no intentions of doing anything that day other than taking you back to Montovia.”

My brow furrows. “Did you have intentions on another day?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, though it doesn’t look like it’s a denial. It looks a lot more like he’s trying to convince himself that he hasn’t been thinking about ending it all than he is trying to convince me.

“Okay.” I’m not about to argue with him about his suicidal ideations on the streets of Salzburg.

After we sit in silence for another moment, I ask about the other pressing matter. “Is there a consulate in Salzburg?”

“The Montovian consulate is in Vienna—”

I try not to roll my eyes. “The American consulate. So I can get my passport replaced. And my identification.”

“Oh.” He frowns. “The American consulate is only a short distance from Montovia’s. In fact—”

“I don’t need to hear any trivia about the Montovian consulate and the American consulate. I just need to get a damned passport so I can get the hell out of Europe.”

“You’re still on about that?” His brows knit together. “I had thought that after what we shared on the train—”

“It was just sex, Andrew. It meant nothing.”

He winces like I’ve just slapped him. “I said I love you, Victoria.”

“As a friend. You said you love me as a friend. And I love you, too, Andrew. As a friend.”

My heart feels like it’s being crushed under my own words, but there’s no way I’m going to let him in on that little secret. No way I’m going to tell him that I feel so much more than friendship for him. It’s best to try to walk this all back as much as I can. And to make sure I never let him anywhere near my heart again, no matter what.

He props his elbows on his knees and drops his head into his hands. He turns slightly to look over at me. “I never said anything about friendship.”

“Yes, you did. You asked if a friend could love me. I think we both know that’s a different kind of love.” I frown. “And I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want to be your mistress. What happened on that train was a one-time thing. A last-time thing. It can’t happen again.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

We’re silent for another moment before he speaks. “Is it just me, or does the coffee at that cafe smell like the most divine thing that has ever been?”

I clench my jaw. “It’s not just you. I didn’t have the pleasure of eating breakfast this morning. Quick exit and all.”

He chuckles, running a hand though his hair before he sits upright again. “I, too, did not eat breakfast. Lady Clarissa deemed it necessary to throw glass objects at my head when I broke the news that she and I would never be a couple.”

I shrug. “Never say never. You never know. She might age gracefully—or you might have already given her that heir you always wanted. Either way, she’ll probably mellow the fuck out at some point.”

“There would be no way for her to have given me an heir. I barely gave that woman anything. And certainly not that.”

“Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about her popping out your kid for a little while, then.”

“I suppose not.”

I look over at him. He’s peeking at me through his fingers as he holds his head in his hands. “Andrew, there still is the very real problem of us having no money to get a late breakfast.” I straighten. “And the even bigger problem of us figuring out how we get to Vienna so I can get my passport replaced.”

He frowns. “No phone. No money.” He shakes his head. “Do you have any ideas?”

I lift a brow. “Think I’d be asking for your opinion if I did?” We’re silent for a moment. “What about the consulate?”

He shrugs. “What about it?”

“How far is it from here to Vienna? It can’t be too far, right? This is a pretty small country—”

“It’s about three hundred kilometers. And know that if we do somehow manage to get there, my father will need to become involved.”

“Mm.” I frown. “Is there someone else you can call? And I guess it’s going to have to be a collect call since neither of us seems to have any money…”

He shakes his head, rubbing his chin for a moment. He lifts his gaze to mine, finally turning fully toward me. “There is one person.”

I lift a brow. “Leopold? I thought he disappeared out of the country and no one could find him?”

“No, not Leopold. He frowns and glances over to a nearby payphone. “Not Leopold.” He turns his gaze back to mine. “William.”