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“Ma’am, it’s just the two of you now, I’m afraid. Neither of you has married. You understand.”
“A monarch’s duty is to produce an heir,” Elizabeth replied, repeating the words her mother had said to her a long time ago; but she had also said them nearly in jest as they’d laughed as a family about the many rules they all lived by that were centuries old and oftentimes, came from an entirely different country.
“Yes, Ma’am. And when you’re ready, we’ll need to discuss that as well, but I trust you can handle that part on your own.”
“Having babies?” she asked, surprised.
“Finding a consort, Ma’am; a husband.”
“Right,” she managed out, covering up the choke in her voice.
“I have a meeting with your security team after this. We’re still reviewing what happened and who on the team should be held responsible. Someone missed something, and I want to know who and why.”
“Yes, so do I.”
“We’ll be taking more aggressive security measures for the foreseeable future. We will keep you and the Princess safe, Ma’am; I promise you that.”
“Victoria can move to the cottage, but I’d prefer to have her here until after the coronation. We both lost our entire family. We need each other right now.”
“Of course, Ma’am.”
“Is that all for today?” she asked.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Okay,” she said and waited for him to go. When he didn’t, she asked, “Mr. Jameson?”
“Ma’am, I can’t stand until you do.” Albert motioned with an open palm toward her.
“Oh, right. Apologies.” Elizabeth stood up slowly.
The Prime Minister did the same and gave a slight bow.
“Majesty,” he said as he walked backward out of the room.
After he exited and closed the door behind him, she said to herself, “No one is permitted to turn their back to the Queen; I forgot that one.”
CHAPTER 2
“Palmer, you’re already there. Come on. This is a big story,” her boss encouraged.
“I was here on vacation,” Palmer argued. “My vacation is over.”
“We’ll pay for it. I’ve already got Cynthia calling your hotel and booking you a room for the next two weeks.”
“Two weeks? Why would I stay here for another two weeks?”
“You’re a reporter, Palmer.”
“I’m a reporter who packedoneweek’s worth of clothes because she wanted one lousy week away from reporting,” Palmer replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at her already packed suitcase.
“Are you really trying to tell me you’re not at all interested in writing this story? You were there when it happened.”
“I wasn’t at the hospital; I was at the spa.”
“You’re in the country that half the world has never heard of.Ihad to look it up when the story broke.”
“I got a deal on the flight and the room. I wanted to see the Northern Lights, and it was cheaper for me to go here than going to Norway or Iceland. Now, I just want to come back home. The cops are everywhere. It’s like a witch-hunt out there.”
