The moment Katie had a plan, the devastation wasn’t so intense. Katie held her head up high and headed for the front entrance, which was flanked by two security guards.
She was stopped by a small red ball running into the pointed tip of her high heel.
“Oh!” a small voice cried from somewhere off to her left. “I’m sorry, miss!”
A blur of red and white—a red dress over a white shirt with a precious Peter Pan collar—flew across the hallway, stopping abruptly in front of Katie’s shoes. The little girl scooped up the ball in her hands and peered up at her.
Katie had no right to say anything. The obvious choice would be to keep walking, right out onto the street. This was Prince Armin’s daughter, Lily—Katie recognized her from the sole picture that had been made available to the public. How she has escaped the staff that was supposed to keep her out of the public areas of the building, Katie didn’t know. But she was still utterly and completely off limits.
She was also adorable.
Five, maybe six, with blonde hair that fell in fine curls down her back and big blue eyes that held all the sadness of the world. But there was hope, too—hope that Katie recognized. She’d felt it so recently.
“I—” What should she say to this little girl? She looked so sad. The longer the moment held, the more Katie felt for her. She wanted to know her story, but more than that, she wanted to know what she could do to make her happy. Even if it was a small thing. Did she have anything in her purse she could give? No, that would probably be very frowned upon by palace security. Could she—
“Miss, do you have any biscuits?”
Her voice, with its British lilt, was so pure, and so soft, that it very nearly broke Katie’s heart.
She took a furtive glance around the hall. The two guards at the door were busy looking out onto the street, and Ms. Mirzoyan was nowhere to be seen. A maid bustled out of one room and into another. As far as she could tell, no one was looking. Still, her heart beat hard and fast. The last thing Katie wanted was for the guards to throw her out of the palace in front of the press. That would be international news in no time flat.
But Lily stood before her, waiting for an answer.
Katie crouched down so that she was at eye level with the girl. “I’m so sorry. I don’t have any biscuits.”
“My name’s Lily,” the girl offered.
Katie smiled down at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, sticking out her hand. Lily shook with all the confidence of someone who lived in a royal household. “My name is Katie.”
Lily’s face turned to a thoughtful frown. “No biscuits at all?”
“None at all.”
“My sister will be sad.” Her eyelashes fluttered
down to her round cheeks.
“Your sister?” Katie didn’t know how to approach this. She had, of course, looked up this information, but she didn’t want to seem utterly creepy. So she’d gone with a vague question.
“My sister, Seraphine,” Lily said seriously. “She wanted biscuits, which made me want biscuits, and when the ball rolled out here, she said I should go get it. And find some biscuits. Now I haven’t.”
Katie looked in the direction Lily had come from and spotted a girl in an identical dress, hovering near a doorway. She looked remarkably like Lily, except that her hair was dark where Lily’s was light. They were twins, Katie knew from her research. Fraternal twins. Katie gave her a little wave. Seraphine waved back shyly.
She knew she was supposed to walk out of here and never look back, but an expectant energy hung in the air. And, honestly, if Katie got kicked out of the palace, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d lost a job in disgrace. The least she could do was give these little girls some happiness.
“I don’t have any biscuits at all,” she said. “But how about a story?”
“Yes!” cried Lily, reaching out and taking her hand. “Come this way. We’re supposed to be in the sitting room while Ms. Mirzoyan does the interviews. You can wait with us.”
That stung a little bit, but Katie could hardly say no. Within five minutes, she found herself ensconced on an overstuffed sofa, one girl on either side. It turned out that the private, residential part of the building was easily accessed by a short hallway—likely installed to allow the prince rapid access from his office to his home. A curtain had been hung over the door, probably in an attempt to hide it from the children by someone who didn’t know children at all. They’d found a dusty children’s book in one of the den’s shelves. Thankfully, it was in English, so Katie read it to them. She read it once, then twice, then a third time.
And then…time got away from her as the girls got Katie talking about herself. She explained about her love of journalism—something that had started when she was not much older than them—and they had been enthralled.
At some point, the girls dug a notepad out of a desk in the corner. Katie had just explained what an interview was, and both of them were interested in asking her hard-hitting questions, such as what is your least favorite food and are puppies better than kittens. All three of them were giggling when the door swung open and in walked none other than Prince Armin.
She had to stifle a gasp at the sight of him. The photos of him on the Internet did the man no justice. For one thing, he was much taller than she expected. For another, his hair wasn’t orange—it was a deep auburn that begged her to run her fingers through it. And he was muscular. So muscular. The suit he wore set his body off in a way that made her short of breath.
Katie leaped up from the couch, grabbing her purse. He was so attractive.