I sit up straighter. “I’m done playing defense. Mr. Harris might have fired me, but he doesn’t own the company. I’m calling HR in Orlando to file a formal complaint. I won’t let him get away with blackmail and trying to ruin Theo.”
“Have I ever mentioned you’re my hero?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see it. “I’m no hero, Alice. I’ve spent my entire life being told to stay quiet. To find the middle ground. You know how it is. Princesses aren’t supposed to make waves. We’re supposed to smooth them over.” A bitter, shaky breath escapes me. “But I’m finished being polite. I’m not going to sit here in silence while that man ruins lives for sport.”
“That,” she says firmly, “is exactly what a hero sounds like.”
My cheeks burn. I’m grateful she can’t see me. “No comment.”
Alice laughs softly. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll be at my flat studying if you need anything at all.”
We hang up, and the silence of the room rushes back in. I set my phone on the nightstand, but before the screen can even go dark, a new alert pulses across the glass.
UPDATE: EXCELSIOR COO CLAIMS “SHE WASN’T ACTING ALONE.” THEODORE RIVERTON PLACED ON ADMINISTRATIVE LEAVE.
A cold dread settles in my stomach. He isn’t done.
Twenty-Two
The rest of the morning and early afternoon crawl by in slow, unbearable minutes.
I pass the time unpacking and repacking the few things the embassy staff retrieved from my hotel, reorganizing the desk in the sitting area, straightening objects that don’t need straightening. I make tea. Forget about it. Make another cup. Nothing helps.
Desperate for a distraction, I ask the staff to purchase some yarn and a crocheting needle, and spend an hour hunched over, watching a “Beginning Magic Ring” tutorial, hoping it’ll calm my nerves. It does the opposite.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, glaring at the fuzzy pink bird’s nest tangled around my fingers. “Crocheting shouldn’t be this hard. It looked so simple in the video.” I flop backward onto the sofa with a groan and toss the half-made disaster aside. “Maybe I missed my calling. Maybe I should’ve been a sailor. At least they know what to do with a mess of rope.”
“You know,” a familiar voice says, “if you want to learnto sail, I’d be happy to take you out when we get back. Plenty of good spots in the Florida Keys.”
I bolt upright to see Leon leaning against the door frame, looking remarkably casual for someone standing in a high-security embassy.
“Leon! I’m glad you made it!” I exclaim.
“Hope I’m not interrupting you,” he says, pushing off the wood.
“You aren’t.”
A woman clears her throat.
My attention travels to the maid standing next to Leon. “Is there anything else we can get for you, Your Highness?”
“Oh, um, no. Thank you.”
The maid bows and retreats out of the sitting room.
“So, do I have permission to enter the royal chambers?”
“Oh—yes, of course.” I stand up quickly, tugging my ponytail free from the neckline of my jumper.
He steps inside, glancing around at the silk wallpaper and mahogany furniture. “Do I need to bow or something? I didn’t get the memo on the protocol.”
“No,” I stammer, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Never. Please don’t. I—just don’t.”
“Relax, kiddo,” he snorts, his voice softening into that familiar, steady tone. “Nothing’s changing between us just because you’re a princess. To me, you’ll always be Kaori—the first person I’d pick for a trivia team and the third person I’d call if I were stranded on a deserted island.”
I blink, momentarily distracted from my misery. “Third?”
“My kids come first. But you’d be ahead of Riverton.”
