A Duel, Of Sorts
Flicka von Hannover
If she wanted to spar,
I could spar.
Flicka and Dieter latched Alina’s car seat into the rear of Sophie’s car and in the middle of the seat, against Flicka’s better judgment. She wanted to sit between Sophie and Alina, but surely everything would be all right.
Surely Sophie wouldn’t hurt her granddaughter, whom she was teachingto say “grandmother” in French.
As they bent over the seat, wrestling with the buckles from both sides, Dieter whispered to Flicka, “Don’t believe a word she says, but don’t argue with her. Pretend you believe her.”
Flicka was shoving her hand behind the seat, trying to find the latch by blindly poking the seat crack with the clip. “Is this dangerous? Should I stay with you?”
He braced himselfon his arms and looked over the seat at her. “I think it’s less dangerous to humor them, at least for tonight.”
Flicka yanked the belt one last time and then shook the seat to make sure it was ratcheted down firmly enough. “What did you and your father talk about on the plane?”
“He was catching me up on my sisters’ and other peoples’ roles in the organization, plus family stuff. There’s history.”
Flicka blew a straggling hank of hair off of her nose. “Yeah, no kidding. Not that I know any of it.”
“I’ll tell you more when we’re alone.” He looked behind him. “They’re coming. Just don’t believe her, okay? Believe what you know about me. I’m not that man anymore.” He pushed off and walked toward where two of the burly men were standing by an SUV.
“Wow.” Flicka crawled backward out of thecar and smiled brilliantly at Sophie Mirabaud.
Sophie had picked Alina up. The toddler had her chubby arms wrapped around Sophie’s neck and looked a little limp as she blinked her huge, green eyes sleepily.
Sophie smiled at Flicka and inclined her head toward Alina. “I think someone’s ready for bed.”
Flicka nodded. “I’ll belt her into her seat.”
Alina reached for Flicka as she took her fromSophie. The baby snuggled down in Flicka’s arms, and Flicka was pretty reluctant to strap her into the seat. If they’d been at home, she might have tucked the kid in beside her on the couch while the three of them watched the sports report, taped from the night before.
But, safety and all that, so she buckled Alina into the car seat and made sure the straps were snug, cooing to her about bucklethis and buckle that.
Sophie settled into the other side of the car, behind the driver’s seat. Two tall and bulky men who were certainly not mere chauffeurs sat in the front.
Flicka forced her body language to be languid, just another princess being casual and elegant, as she buckled her seat belt.
Sophie looked over Alina, who was staring at the ceiling with that thousand-yard stare of exhaustionthat babies get. “I’m surprised to see you with Raphael.”
There were a thousand interpretations of that phrase, everything from insinuating that Flicka wasn’t good enough for her son, to a reference that the plan had been to hand Flicka to Pierre in Vegas or even to kill her over international waters. “Well, here I am, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You know about Raphael, don’t you?”
Flicka stretched her face into her most pleasant smile, the one that she reserved for princess duties such as visiting children with cancer in hospitals or touring the rubble of people’s homes in disaster zones. “I’ve known him since I was twelve years old.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon.”
Flicka wasn’t sure how much she should say. Anything she said might get Dieter into troubleor, considering what he’d said about his mother, might be used against them later. “He met my brother a long time ago. My brother brought him home on weekends sometimes, so that’s when I met him.”
Tiny lights in the car’s doors illuminated the interior just enough for Flicka to see Sophie over the toddler between them. “Oh, that’s right. Your brother raised you after his twin brother—well—” Shetrailed off.
“After Constantin was murdered,” Flicka supplied.
“Yes. That was tragic.”
