“Gwyneth.” She had an adorable lisp, and I smiled.
“What a pretty name for a pretty girl. Are you ...” I cast my eyes up, pretending to consider. “Let’s see, four years old?”
“Five!” She held up her hand, all fingers extended. “I had a birthday last week. My mummy made me a princess party. I got to wear a crown, just like you.” Frowning now, she studied my head. I was wearing a very chic straw hat, but apparently it wasn’t what young Gwyneth hoped to see. “Where’s your crown?”
“Well ...” I lowered my voice, as if speaking confidentially. “You see, all the crowns in this land belong to Her Majesty the Queen.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “You know, Prince Nicholas is her grandson. And she is so kind and wonderful that sometimes, she allows me to wear one. But she keeps them all in a special, secure spot. They’re guarded by very brave people.”
Her eyes went round. “Are they big men?”
I smothered a giggle. “Some of them are—but others are brave and smart women. No worries, all of the crowns are safe and sound. If you watch television sometimes, you might see me wearing one, but the secret is that you can be a princess even without a crown.”
“Really?” She dimpled up. “Like it’s an imaginary crown sometimes? My mum told me when I wanted to wear my birthday crown to school that I had to imagine I had it on.”
“That’s exactly right,” I agreed. “The thing to remember is that even when no one else can see our crown, we must still behave like a princess. And that means listening to our teachers and parents, and being sweet and kind to others. That’s how everyone will realize that we are princesses. All right?”
Gwyneth nodded her head vigorously. “Yes! I can do that.”
“Excellent.” I shook her hand solemnly. “Then Princess Gwyneth, I wish you a good day.”
“Good day, Princess Ky.”
As I stood up, another hand touched my arm, and a pair of blue eyes that were identical to the little girl’s met mine. “Thank you so much, Your Royal Highness, for being kind to my girl. She’ll never forget this day!”
“She’s beautiful and very smart.” I nodded. “Must come from good mothering.”
The woman gazed at me sharply. “I’m thinking you’re shortly to know something about that.”
Surprise took my voice. No one else had hinted at my pregnancy so far; I had been congratulating myself for keeping the secret.
Gwyneth’s mother leaned slightly toward me. “It’s not visible, ma’am ... I’m known to have a bit of the Sight. I can always tell when a woman’s, ah ...” She slid her eyes sideways to the other people pressing in on us. “Well, you know. Before she can tell, even.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “Blessings on you and yours, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” I managed to squeak before Lady Marjorie guided me away.
“We need to move inside. We’re really quite late.” My former mentor didn’t sound censorious, merely resigned.
“Yes, all right. I just wanted ...” My voice trailed off as a movement in the crowd near us caught my eye. A familiar face, several rows back in the group nearest us, made my body go numb. A wave of dizzy terror that had nothing to do with pregnancy rocked me.
The eyes that met mine were mocking and knowing. The last time I’d seen them, the man owning those eyes had grabbed my arm and threatened me ... just before my world came crashing down.
“Harold.” I reached blindly for my protection officer. “Harold, that’s him. That’s—the man from Viscount Weymouth’s party. That—Scott Gorman. He’s in the crowd.”
Harold didn’t hesitate. He moved his body between mine and the people and guided both Lady Marjorie and myself quickly into the safety of the school. As he walked with us, he spoke tersely into his communicator.
“Simon will know him,” I reminded Harold, trying not to stumble as we moved quickly. “But get Nicky to safety. What if that man’s here to hurt him? Get me my husband, Harold. Go take care of him.”
The moment we were inside, a swarm of police officers surrounded us. Harold saw that we were safe before he glanced down at me.
“I will, ma’am. I’ll have him to you shortly.”
Lady Marjorie led me to a nearby chair inside an empty classroom. “Your hands are like ice, ma’am. Sit down. You need to be careful of shocks at a time like this. It’s not good for you, in your condition.”
I jerked my head up to meet her eyes. “You know?”
She smiled slightly and chafed my fingers, warming them. “Of course. We all do. We were briefed before the trip—what if something happened and you needed medical help? We’re all very happy for you and Prince Nicholas.”
“Thank you.” At the mention of Nicky’s name, my anxiety ratcheted up several notches. “Where is he? I hope they can catch that man.” I shivered violently. “What was he even doing here?”
“Try to be calm, ma’am,” Lady Marjorie advised. “The security officers are doing everything they should. We’re safe here, and you know their first priority would be protecting His Royal Highness. Your job right now is to trust that it’s all going to be fine.”
