Alexei nodded, waiting.
“But I don’t see how the public could disagree with the project, regardless of who’s involved.” Armin noted the subtle sigh Alexei gave before he continued speaking. “This is necessary work. The building itself, as you know, is nearly eighty years old. The piecemeal repairs aren’t enough to keep it standing for much longer, and the interiors are insufficient to house the number of children they take in. We need to do better.”
“I agree, but—”
“I plan on making this a comprehensive rebuilding. The entire structure needs to be revitalized. I also want an educational wing added so that the children who live there can enjoy access to the same books, technology, and other programs available to other children in the kingdom. I won’t have them left behind by the rest of the country. These children have lost their parents, so that means it’s up to all of us to fill that role and make sure they’re provided for. Do you understand?”
“I do, Prince Armin. I do understand. And might I say, you’ve done a truly remarkable thing in taking those two dear children as your daughters. It’s a fine example for the rest of us, and—”
Armin’s assistant came quietly into the room and around behind his desk. “The nanny has returned with the girls,” she whispered.
He nodded back to her.
“We’ll continue this discussion later, Alexei. Remember that the people who partner with me on this project will be remembered as doing good for all of Stolvenia.” Without allowing the man to reply, Armin rose to his feet and exited the room, heading for the girls’ nursery.
It was time to find out what the hell Katie had been thinking.
Armin pushed open the door to discover…
…utter tranquility.
Katie sat in the window seat with the girls, whose heads were bowed over matching notepads.
They were doing their homework.
All three of them looked up at him when they noticed his presence.
“Hi,” Lily said shyly, and he couldn’t help giving her an affectionate smile. His heart sank a little when, as usual, she didn’t return the smile.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He focused his attention on Katie. “Can I see you outside for a moment?”
She gave each of the girls a pat on the head. “I’ll be right back in. Work on these problems, okay?”
“Okay,” they chorused, and Katie followed him out and into the hall. She gently shut the door behind them.
By then, Armin’s anger was back, full force. It was a struggle to keep his voice down. “What on earth were you thinking, taking them out against the schedule?”
He could see her bracing herself. “The girls were…well, Prince Armin, they were exhausted from the lessons. They needed a break. They need some time to have fun, and play.”
“Playtime is already in their schedule. They have several hours each afternoon and evening to do as they please on the castle grounds.”
“That’s true,” she said, but there was a fire in her dark eyes. Katie lifted her chin and met his gaze. ?
??But it’s also true that they’ve experienced a great loss. A tremendous loss. They feel…out of control. They’ve been swept up in a totally new lifestyle. I’ll be the first to say that it is a lovely one—but it’s still strange and unfamiliar, and they needed a little bit of control back this afternoon. I gave it to them with a trip to the park.”
Armin couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. “Oh, so now your part-time experience as a nanny qualifies you as a child psychologist?”
She set her jaw. “No. The fact that I lost my own parents when I was a little older than they are now qualifies me to speak on the matter. I’d say that’s pretty relevant experience.”
Armin was rendered speechless for several moments, and he was not a man who was easily rendered speechless.
He had been thoughtless, he realized. Totally thoughtless. Though when it came to his daughters, he knew he had the tendency to overreact. Even though they didn’t care for him nearly as much as he cared for them.
“I’m—I’m sorry, Ms. Crestley. I didn’t know.”
She accepted his apology with a gracious nod. “It was a long time ago. It still hurts, though—even now. So I know what they’re feeling.”
“I only want to ensure that…that they’re safe.” He was not used to having to explain himself at all, and the words came out a little roughly. “I want them to have the best future possible, and give them a way to honor their parents.” His throat tightened painfully. No—not here, not in front of the nanny. “They were some of my closest friends. Some of my only real friends.”