“No, you won’t. You’ll stay at the damnedparty and act like you’re having a grand time, like the Princess of Monaco is supposed to. You’ll fulfill all your duties, and then you’ll take that damned medicine tomorrow if I have to have Quentin hold you down and force it down your throat.”
The doctor had given Pierre the abortion drugs.
“If you say so, Pierre.” She strolled out of the throne room toward the Princess Grace suite.
Whenshe got to her rooms, the silence overwhelmed her.
She started walking toward Alina’s bedroom before she remembered that she was utterly alone in the Prince’s Palace.
She sat on the couch in the living room and stared at the swimming pool, willing herself to keep her composure.
A few minutes later, a knock on her door preceded a cart being pushed into the room.
“Your Highness,” the man pushingthe cart said, “Your lunch.”
Flicka looked up from the crumpled tissue in her hands and into the ice-blue eyes ofMagnus Jensen, the Rogue Security guy who’d been outside the church at Rainier’s funeral.“Magnus.”
He held his finger to his lips. “Your lunch, as you ordered.”
Under the silver dome, three hard-boiled eggs, still in their shells, sat with a selection of bananas, and a brown tablet.
Odd.
Except that it would be exceedingly difficult to sprinkle abortion-inducing drugs on an unpeeled banana or egg.
Flicka almost laughed.
Magnus winked and said, “The vitamin pill is from us, so it’s safe. Be ready.”
