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The smile that had faded from the king’s face at Angelina’s initial reaction to hearing she wasn’t being relieved of duty—the relief she’d found impossible to keep from her expression—returned. “Very good, Lieutenant,” he said softly, his vivid green eyes gleaming with approval. “That kind of devotion is what I like to see in all my men. Especially those who are assigned to guard the queen. The queen,” he amended, “and now the prince.”
Like every Zakharian, Angelina knew the king would gladly sacrifice his own life to keep his wife and son safe. And like every loyal Zakharian on the three security details, love for their king made them fiercely protective of the entire royal family.
But the king was still speaking, and Angelina forced herself to focus on his words. “I heard everything yesterday from Captain Zale and others. I even had the US embassy’s regional security officer here—at his request.”
Alec? Alec talked to the king about what happened? Why did he not tell me? “I did not know that, Sire.”
“The US embassy’s RSO was my sister’s guest at the christening yesterday—you probably know he was once her bodyguard. When her husband told her of the danger, she apparently asked Special Agent Jones to assist in any way he could, which is why he... I think intervened was the word he used. But his involvement was after the fact. After you had spotted the would-be assassins. After you had accurately deduced their target and informed Captain Zale of the threat.” The king’s voice hardened. “After you had realized exactly what the would-be assassins were waiting for—the precise moment my son would be most vulnerable.”
Angelina suppressed a tiny shiver at the coldness in the voice uttering that last sentence. The king had gone from friendly and approachable to hard and implacable in seconds. “And after you had taken one of the would-be assassins prisoner,” he continued without pause, “ensuring he would no longer be a threat to my son.”
It was exactly what Angelina needed to hear. But she didn’t want the king to praise her for something that had been an accident. “I was not looking for threats at that precise moment, Sire,” she confessed. “I was watching the baptism...like most people in the cathedral. Thinking about the religious meaning of the ceremony. One of the cameramen happened to be in my line of sight. That is when I saw the gun half hidden in his camera. And I knew...”
She trailed off and took a deep breath. “When I looked at the other cameraman and saw he also had a weapon in his possession, it all fell into place, and I knew the crown prince had to be the target. Once I realized that—”
“You realized what they were waiting for. Yes, Lieutenant, I had already deduced that.” She watched as the king made a visible effort to relax the tension in his muscles at the thought of what had nearly happened yesterday. “Who can say what guides our thoughts, our actions? Divine intervention? Perhaps. But I have learned to my sorrow that God does not always intervene to save the innocent. He relies on us. And in this case, on you, Lieutenant. You did not fail God. You did not fail me.” He smiled his faint smile again. “So. How do I reward you for saving my son’s life?”
This is why every loyal Zakharian loves the king, Angelina realized as emotion welled up in her throat, threatening to overwhelm her. She swallowed hard. “That your family is safe is reward enough, Your Majesty.”
“Hmm.” He leaned back in his chair, observing her, and Angelina knew he was seeing more than she really wanted him to see. “I will have to think about this. In the meantime, Lieutenant, please accept my heartfelt thanks for a job well done.” He stood and held out his hand, and when she tentatively offered hers, he shook it firmly, decisively, giving her his trust so completely that she swore to herself she would never let him down.
* * *
Angelina had no sooner exited the king’s private office when Major Branko stopped her. “Colonel Marianescu wishes to see you, Lieutenant,” he said.
“But the king—” she began, almost blurting out that the king had cleared her of wrongdoing. Then, “Yes, sir.”
She headed down the corridor without another word, stopping at the door to Colonel Marianescu’s office. She drew a deep breath, tapped on the door and pushed it open at the strong command to enter.
“You wished to see me, Colonel?” she asked from the doorway.
“Come in and shut the door, Lieutenant.” When she did, the king’s cousin crossed the room to where she stood nervously by the door and offered his hand. “Thank you, Lieutenant, from the bottom of my heart.”
