Amy had chosen Veronica Angeloff for her impressive resume, but in person she was...even more impressive. As in, she was stunning. She had auburn hair that matched Prince Artur’s and dancing brown eyes, and the two of them were already deep in conversation about the marine life around Primorsky. Amy’s heart did a funny little twist. She hadn’t known Artur was that interested in ocean life. Then again, when the facts were coming from Veronica’s mouth, it wasn’t altogether surprising.
And Veronica had another advantage—she was already technically a princess through her mother’s side, though her mother’s country was a small one nestled next to Stolvenia that had given up the monarchy in all but name.
Unlike Dina, she didn’t pretend Amy wasn’t in the room. “You must be Amy,” she said, greeting her with a genuine smile. “Stolvenia is lucky to have such a genius PR professional on their side.
“It’s wonderful to meet you in person,” Amy said. It was true.
“You’ll come with us on the tour, won’t you?” Veronica’s eyes flicked down to Amy’s belly. “There’s no pressure, of course, if—”
“Of course,” Amy said quickly, and Veronica seized the moment.
She really was gorgeous, even wearing sensible shoes and sturdy pants, and Amy tried her best not to feel somehow inadequate while Veronica led them out toward the cliffs and then down a steep staircase. With every step, Amy wondered how she was possibly going to climb back up. She was in shape, but—
The steps were the least of it. Veronica led them on a punishing climb through the outcrops at the base of the cliffs, stopping often to point out other rock formations. It was clear from the outset that she was passionate about her work, and Amy felt herself drawn in...when she wasn’t completely out of breath. Artur couldn’t put his camera down.
Photography was known to be one of his hobbies, but Amy had assumed it was more of a pretext than a real hobby—an excuse for all his glamorous Instagram photos of beautiful people at the fabulously decadent parties he attended. But even in just a few days on this tour with him, she’d realized how seriously he took it—the time and attention he dedicated to capturing the perfect angle, the perfect composition, the perfect light. And despite what his Instagram would suggest, landscape pictures seemed to be his favorites. He must have taken two hundred photographs by the time they paused at the base of the staircase, Veronica looking out over the ocean.
“Most of the life in the world is aquatic,” she said. “Some ninety-five percent of it. When we stand on the shore and feel small, that’s accurate in more ways than one. We’re the minority on the planet.”
Amy certainly felt small standing next to the vast ocean, watching as Artur and Veronica looked out at the waves together.
“Thank you,” Veronica said suddenly, her voice rising over the wash of the water on the shore.
“For what?”
Amy was as curious as Artur seemed to be.
“For listening to me.”
Listening to her?
“You know,” Veronica went on, “a lot of people don’t seem to hear what I’m saying. They’re looking for...something else entirely from me. Something more in keeping with what they’d expect from a princess. I know this was supposed to be a romantic date, but...” She laughed. “It was the first time in a long time I’ve gotten to talk about what I love with an interested party.”
“It’s a fascinating subject,” Artur agreed, shooting a glance over at Amy. “I’d like to hear more about it, if you’ve got the time.”
“Prince Artur, you don’t have to ask if I have the time.” Veronica grinned up at him, and Amy looked away. They were too much of a handsome couple.
“What do you think, Amy? Should we have some sandwiches brought down so we can hear more from Veronica?”
“I’m—” Veronica was looking at Artur, eyes shining. “I’m happy to go up,” said Amy. “But you’ll have to meet me at the top. So many stairs!” She ran her hands over her belly.
Artur nodded. “Of course. We’ll be right behind you.”
Amy hadn’t planned on an island, but that’s how the day had gone.
Veronica had taken them to a garage with a dune buggy, and the three of them brought sandwiches from a local shop in the back. It was a longer way to the beach, but the scientist had insisted the view would be worth it, and Amy had to admit that it was.
The island was only accessible during low tide, and Amy stood in the sun, letting the ocean breeze play over her face as she tried not to watch Veronica and Artur picnic together at the edge of the sand. A little outcropping of rock rose up out of the water in front of them.
Where were the photographers when you needed one? Amy could see from here that the shot of Prince Artur sitting on a piece of driftwood with Veronica would be media gold. It was her job, after all, to engineer these kinds of opportunities, so she’d take matters into her own hands.
Amy’s own sandwich was long gone by the time she strolled out toward the sea with her phone, pausing next to the rocks. They were...deceivingly close to the ocean. In fact, as the tide rose, they’d be covered up. On one side it was all sand, and on the other, all water. And it was deeper water than Amy had thought. She’d been expecting a few inches of water, but this looked more like a foot. Maybe two.
She turned back toward the couple on the beach, shading her eyes with her hand. “I want to get a photo,” she called over the sea breeze.
Worry flashed through Artur’s eyes. “Don’t we already have photos? From before?”