Brynn snorted. "If only we had instant replay, I'd be totally vindicated."
"But we don't." He shifted his attention to Nicky and me. "You see my point, don't you? She's going to be putting her life at risk. She won't be able to communicate with me—or with anyone else. We won't know if she's alive or—" He broke off, his jaw clenching.
"I'm not an idiot, Milo. I know how to take care of myself, and I've been in this business for a very long time." Brynn's voice was crisp, and her eyes snapped with heat. "Think of the good I could do. Think of the information I could potential retrieve—and the lives that could be saved."
"And think of what it'll do to me if your life is sacrificed for all of that good!" Milo bellowed before he seemed to recall where he was. His eyes were like storm clouds as he stood abruptly, dropping his napkin on the table alongside his plate. "Apologies for interrupting this meal. If you'll excuse me, please—" Without waiting for any response, Milo pushed in his chair and stalked from the dining room.
"Damn." Brynn buried her face in her hands for a moment. "I'm sorry, Kyra, Nicholas. I thought we could put this disagreement on pause for Christmas. I didn't realize that Milo planned to recruit allies to persuade me to his side of the argument."
"Brynn." I touched her shoulder. "Do you think . .. I mean, does Milo have a good point? If whatever this mission is requires you to be in danger—if Milo's really worried—should you do it?"
She flashed me an enigmatic smirk. "Et tu, Kyra? Are you really taking his side?"
"It's not taking a side so much as wondering if you should consider his point of view," I corrected. "Milo's not exactly inexperienced in undercover work."
"Yeah, I know. And he might be right—at least, a little bit," Brynn conceded. "I wasn't sure I was going to take the assignment—I just wanted to discuss it with him. But then he got all bull-headed. He actually tried toforbidme to take it." She sighed. "So I got my back up and said I was doing it, no matter what."
Nicky glanced at me without saying a word, but I knew what he was thinking.
"I understand that all too well," I admitted. "Take it from one who knows—if one of you doesn't take a breath and try to be reasonable, this could end in disaster."
Brynn was quiet for a moment and then she stood. "I'm going to see if I can find Milo . . . and while I look, I'll try that taking a breath thing. Sorry again, Kyra. I'll see you later."
I watched her hurry out of the room and turned to my husband. "That was some surprise, sweetie. I have a hunch you got a few shocks yourself."
"True." Nicky rubbed his forehead. "I thought seeing Brynn would make you feel a little better. I can see you're still struggling."
"I think the question isn't why I'm upset, Nicky. It's why aren't you?" I kept my voice low, aware that we were already attracting stares from the extended family around the dining room. "Bria and Rhys eloped rather than share their wedding day with us. Brynn and Milo are on the verge of breaking up and destroying their happiness. Daisy is lonely and miserable, and the Queen is grieving the loss of her husband." I rose to my feet slowly. "I appreciate that you're trying to help, but I think—I think I just need a little space. A little time to myself."
Without another word, I slipped away from the table, fleeing even as a lump in my throat nearly choked me and tears burned my eyes.
ChapterSeven
There was no end to rooms in which to hide at Windsor Castle, but my safest space had always been outdoors. So it wasn't strange that when I ran away, it was through a small wooden door that led to the Queen's private gardens.
The air was cold, heavy with a moisture that might have promised snow at some point. The thin silk of my pretty green dress didn't do a damn thing to protect me from the chill, and I was half tempted to sneak back inside for a coat. But that warmth came with a risk that I'd run into Nicky or another family member who would want to talk, and talking was the last thing I needed at the moment.
So I kept my head down and plunged forward past the dead and browning bushes and shrubs, the empty patches of dirt where roses would bloom in the spring.
But spring felt a very long time away.
I knew there was a bench just ahead. It might be colder to sit still, but I didn't feel like pacing the garden paths. However, just as I turned the bend, I saw a small figure already sitting on the marble bench. From the headscarf and the familiar beige coat, I recognized who it was and nearly pivoted on my heel to leave before she spotted me.
I hesitated a moment too long, though, and either she heard me or somehow sensed that she was not alone. Her face lifted, and those famous blue eyes met mine.
"Hello, Kyra."
The Queen smiled and beckoned to me, and I walked toward her, pausing a few feet away to dip in a curtsy as required.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to intrude." I wrapped my arms around my waist, shivering a little.
"Not at all, dear." Her gaze, which seldom missed anything, took me in, up and down. "I'm assuming this was not a plan stroll in the gardens. You're not at all dressed for December."
"No, ma'am. I didn't—I mean, I wasn't going to come out, but I was at lunch, and there was—Milo and Brynn—" To my frustration and embarrassment, my eyes welled up again, and a tear spilled over onto my cheek. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. It just feels as though I haven't found my joy this season. Which probably sounds stupid and trite, and especially in light of—" I thrust a hand toward my grandmother-in-law. "Your loss, ma'am."
"Kyra, we're alone here. Please, call me Granny." She unbuttoned her coat, and I saw that she had a cardigan beneath it, which she quickly removed and handed to me. "And put this on. You'll catch a cold out here, and Nicholas will be cross for Christmas."
"Oh, thank you, m—um, Granny." I accepted the sweater and put it on, appreciating the thick, warm wool. "I knew I needed a coat, but I had made a dramatic exit, and I was afraid I'd run into someone who would make me second-guess that choice."
