The king and queen, Hex at their side along with Gregor and half a dozen palace guards, wait for us outside the massive garage, and the greeting party likely confirms Freya’s suspicions.
“I will kill him,” she mutters as I slow the bike to a stop.
Hex winces and slinks behind his father, the first sign of fear I’ve ever seen in him.
Ignoring my offered hand, Freya climbs off the motorcycle and walks with surprising meekness toward her parents. She may be a grown woman, but even the bravest soul would wither under those disapproving expressions. The queen is holding nothing back tonight as she scowls in the misty rain. “Mum,” Freya says, her voice thin. “Dad.Traitor.”
Hex snickers as he steps from his hiding place. “Hey, I gave you a head start. You’re alive, yeah? You should bethanking me.”
“Hendrik,” Queen Ingrid says in a warning tone, and then her attention is back on Freya. “What were you thinking, going out in the middle of the night? And on your own?”
Freya squares her shoulders. “I need to understand our people if I am to serve them.”
“That answers neither of my questions.”
“Was it you who told the palace guard not to let me out of the palace?”
“Freya.”
“You?” She looks at her father, who lifts the corner of his lips in an empathetic smile. Turning back to the queen, Freya straightens to her full height, hands in fists at her side. “If I am to be queen, you cannot be an obstacle in every direction I try to go!”
“I agree with the queen,” I say, still sitting on the bike. I’d rather keep a physical distance from the family feud, and I’m a lot more comfortable with a quick escape route if I need it. After the way I handled Freya in the city, I don’t see this evening going in my favor. “Her decision was clearly for a good reason.”
Freya’s eyes are fiery, reflecting the lights of the courtyard when she turns to me. “You forget your place, Mr. Reid.”
The sound of a second motorcycle cuts over the top of her anger, growing louder until Sander drives into the courtyard on the bike I took and comes to a stop a few feet from where I’m sitting. He tugs the helmet from his head, reading the situation quickly as he looks at his family and the gathered guards.
“Sorry, mate,” he mutters to me.
I nod to acknowledge him. I’m glad he was with the princess, but he never should have let her go in the first place.
“Aleksander,” the queen says, her tone measured. “You and I need to discuss the night’s events, along with Mr. Reid, so we might determinewhether—”
“He needs to go.” Freya folds her arms and fixes a glare on me. “Reid. I want him out of this country immediately.”
Well, I had a good run.
“Freya, be reasonable,” Stellan says, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
She jerks away from his touch. “Reasonablewould be arresting the American for putting his hands on me,” she snarls.
All eyes turn to me, and my stomach tightens as I lift my hands in the air. “I was only trying to get her back here safely.”
“I saw it through the window,” Sander says. He’s fighting a smile and losing the battle. “He did what I would have done in that situation.”
“Other witnesses?” At the sound of Gregor’s rough voice, I meet the security head’s hard gaze.
“No,” Sander says.
“None that I saw,” I add carefully, “but I didn’t have time to do a thorough sweep.” I can only hope there weren’t any cameras. Witnesses are one thing, but photographic proof of my less-than-proper methods would likely injure not just me but the royal family as a whole. If I had had more of a warning, I would have been better prepared.
“He was entirely out of line,” Freya snaps, then turns to me. “You are dismissed.”
“No,” the queen and Gregor say in unison.
Honestly, I can’t decide if it would be better if I did go. Derek was wrong, and the princess and I clearly don’t work well together. But I’m not usually one to quit, so as long as Gregor wants me in his employ, I’ll be here.
“It is evident Mr. Reid is exactly the protection you need,” the queen says, and Gregor agrees with a sharp nod. “More so if you are going to act the childish fool.”
