I looked up at him."And then a few weeks ago, Captain Steiner told me I was kidnapped from a palace garden when I was two years old.Suddenly my whole life made a different kind of sense.All those years of unexplained fear, and it turns out my body remembered something my mind couldn't."
Archie was quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable."That must have been strange.Learning that about yourself."
"Strange is one word for it.I spent twenty years in therapy trying to understand why I was scared of things I couldn't name, and it turns out the answer was international kidnapping."I laughed, but it came out a little shaky."My therapist is going to have a field day when I tell her."
"You haven't told her yet?"
"I haven't had time.Being a princess is surprisingly demanding."I met his eyes."You're actually the first person I've talked to about this.The connection between the fear and the kidnapping, I mean."
Something shifted in his expression.He reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine, and the touch sent warmth spreading up my arm.
"Thank you for telling me," he said."That means something."
"Thank you for listening without making it weird."
The main course arrived, and I lost the ability to think about anything except how good the food was.We talked about lighter things: books we'd read, places we wanted to visit, the differences between American and European coffee culture.
"American coffee is a war crime," Archie declared."That watery substance you call drip coffee should be classified as a human rights violation."
"Excuse me, I was a professional barista.I made excellent coffee."
"Espresso-based drinks, yes.But regular American coffee?The kind you get at diners?"
"Is delicious and comforting and I will die on this hill."
"You'll die alone on that hill.No European will join you."
"Your loss.You've never experienced the joy of unlimited diner coffee refills at 2 AM."
By the time dessert arrived, I'd almost forgotten about the security detail scattered throughout the restaurant.Almost.One of them had shifted position during the main course, and I'd caught the movement in my peripheral vision.But it felt less intrusive than I'd expected, knowing they were there to keep me safe.
"Can I ask you something?"I said, pushing tiramisu around my plate.
"You've been asking me things all evening."
"Something more serious."
"Go ahead."
"Why are you being so nice to me?A week ago you were cold and dismissive.Now you're taking me on romantic dates and investigating saboteurs on my behalf.What changed?"
He was quiet for a long moment, and I thought maybe I'd pushed too far.
"I was apprehensive," he said finally.
"Of what?"
"Of you.Of what you represented."He set down his fork."My whole life, I've known exactly what was expected of me.Marry strategically, produce heirs, maintain the monarchy.It was all very clinical and predictable.Then you arrived, and suddenly I was supposed to spend my life with someone I'd never met.Someone who might hate me, or whom I might hate.The uncertainty was terrifying."
"So you decided to hate me preemptively?"
"I decided to keep my distance.It seemed safer than getting attached to someone who might be miserable here."He met my eyes."I was wrong.About all of it."
"What made you realize that?"
"Watching you handle impossible situations with humor and grace.Seeing you care about healthcare programs you invented on the spot.Learning that you thank the serving staff even when protocol says you shouldn't."He smiled slightly."You're not what I expected, Betty.You're better."
I didn't know what to say to that.So I did something that might have been a terrible idea.
