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her.”

“Double no.” He pressed his hand to his forehead. Dang it all. She was the toughest princess he’d ever met, rushing off to save her family from an assassination attempt the likes of which the world hadn’t seen since the Romanovs. “Who took her?”

The officer shrugged. “It was the navy, I believe. The Secretary of Defense was on the phone with the princess for five minutes before she left.” He leaned closer. “She insisted on an escort.”

“Of course she did.” He would expect nothing less from the woman who had become a princess right before his very eyes. He needed to get to her. Who knew what kind of situation she was running into? Heading for the door, his only thoughts of Neese and being there for her, he was stopped by the officer before he cleared the hall.

“Hey now, where’re you going?” asked the short man with a bumpy bald head.

“I need to find Neese—I need to tell her—”

“You are going to the station to file a report. We’ll need ID and a phone number where we can reach you.”

“But—”

“Hey, the only reason you’re not in a cruiser right now is because that princess said you were one of the good guys. But that doesn’t mean you can run out on us. We need your help to make sure these guys are put away for a very long time.”

Tatum cursed.

Chapter Twenty

Nyssa ran through the palace, the warm breeze tugging at her loose hair and the tile stinging her bare feet.

While she was relieved and even joyful to be home, she had left a piece of her heart in DC. Pushing thoughts of Tatum aside for the moment, for they were never far away, she burst into the family room, where she could see her father on the patio, staring out at the sea. A strangled cry of relief surged forth and Father shot to his feet, his arms open wide to receive her crushing hug.

Nyssa fell into his familiar embrace and released the tears she’d battled with for the entire flight, the bumpy landing on the grass airstrip, and the boat ride in the middle of the night to the secret dock.

The US hadn’t been able to make contact with the palace. Nyssa made the call to go around the island instead of fighting through the blockade. The fight would have taken time—time she did not have. And she didn’t want anyone to die, traitor or not—they were Zimradians first, her brothers. She would extend mercy—for now. A royal had hard decisions to make.

Father cupped the back of her head, holding her against him. “I am so glad you are safe.”

“Me?” she laughed, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “You were the ones who were in real trouble.” I had Tatum. He would have died to protect her. She knew all the way through her island roots.

“My cousin is a coward. He left others to do his evil deeds and attacked the lone sheep.”

“I wasn’t alone.” She smiled, thinking of the relief on Tatum’s face when she’d climbed out from under the table.

“Marius was there for you?” Father let her go and stepped back, drinking in the sight of her.

“And another.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Marius was injured. He will recover in time.”

“He is a good man.”

“He is a prince.”

Father studied her for a moment. “You do not love him.”

“No.” She dropped her chin.

“Could you love him?”

That was one of the questions that had plagued Nyssa, keeping her feet from being still and her thoughts from settling. Could she marry Marius for the sake of her country and forget Tatum? “I could respect him and I could befriend him. But I do not think I could love him as a woman should.”

“Why not?” He seemed truly perplexed.

“Because once you’ve had chocolate turtles, no other chocolates will do.”

Father’s eyebrows shot to the puffy white clouds hovering overhead. “You’ve found someone? When did this happen?”

Nyssa ran her hands over her arms. “I’m—I’m not sure what I’ve found; it could be love. I didn’t have time to find out. But the possibility was there and will always be a part of my heart.”

Father placed his hand on her shoulder. “You are needed here.”

“I know, Father.” The knowledge burned down her throat and filled her stomach. Serving the people was more than weeding a woman’s garden, harvesting oranges, and reading to children. Real service meant giving of herself. “I will marry Marius and make a good life for us on this island with the people I love.”

“And what of your American ideals? Have you tossed those aside so easily?”

“Not easily.” She smiled sadly, aching for the small portion of the life she could have had, and turned to her duty.

They talked for several more minutes before her brothers arrived. Dark circles hung under Turk’s eyes, like shadows under the orange trees. He walked leaning slightly forward and hunched over. For all Nyssa carried with her to and from America, her brother bent under his load as future king.

Her younger brother was lighter, though he had new lines at the corners of his eyes and he continually searched the room as if suspecting trouble.

Hugs were exchanged, as were feelings of relief to be together again.

“Where is Mother?”

“She had a migraine and has taken to her bed,” replied Turk.

“Oh.” Nyssa had only had one headache as bad as the ones Mother got in times of stress. She wished there was something she could do. “I will peek in on her.”

“Do not jostle her,” cautioned Father.

“I won’t.” Nyssa snuck into the darkened room and pressed a kiss to her mother’s warm forehead. The herbs the doctors prescribed often made her sleep through the worst of the pain. For now, it was enough to see her chest rise and fall and color on her cheeks.

Her family was safe and they could move forward without Mahana’s influence. That was the most important development. She now understood what her mother had said about being

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