“It certainly changed Wulfram’s life.”
“Yes—well—I hadn’t meant to bring that up.”
And now Flicka had Dieter’s mother on the ropes because Flicka was, after all, a princess with more social acumen than the vast majority of people. “It doesn’t matter, I’m sure. It was a long time ago, before I was born.”
Sophie’s teeth worried at her lower lip as they sped down the dark highway. The car’s headlights cut swaths out of the darkness, sometimes touching the SUV driving in front of them. The one trailing them occasionally shone white light through the rear window.
Sophie said, “I’d forgotten about that.”
“It’s rather an important event in the Hannover family. The ostensible heir to the throne—if therewere a throne, of course—murdered in broad daylight, and the second son seriously wounded, too.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, Raphael—” and that still felt weird, “—took over Wulfram’s security quite a few years ago. He’s very talented.”
Sophie snorted. “I can only imagine. He’s certainly good at remaining undercover.”
“He’s kept Wulfram alive all these years. I don’t think anyone else could have.”
“That’s good to know,” Sophie said, though she sounded troubled.
Flicka turned in her seat. “I’m just going to rest for a few minutes. It’s been a long day.” Even though she had napped on the plane.
“Of course,” Sophie said. “I’ll wake you when we’re close to the house.”
Yes, the house that Raphael had tried to keep them out of.
Flicka didn’t think she would actually sleep.
Wait—
Not Raphael.
Dieter.
Her Dieter, herLieblingwächter.
The tires growled on the road under her feet, and Flicka remained motionless in the seat, trying to look serene and asleep so she could think.
Every mile brought them closer to the Mirabaud house.
