Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)
I took a deep breath. The door opened and I walked into the sun. Only this time I didn’t shield myself. There was only one way this would work. I had to prove I could walk in the light.
2
Kenley
“Are you sure the cabin is clear of all alcohol?” I asked the flight attendant.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve checked three times, including the butler’s pantry.”
I should feel relieved, but I wasn’t.
“Absolutely sure?” I pressed. “You’ve looked in all the compartments?”
She eyed me. I didn’t care if I annoyed her. What she thought didn’t matter. Dominic would be here any minute. He was what mattered. The prince was my only concern.
The royal hostess scurried to prepare hot tea. I had flown with Liddy before. She was unusually opinionated for someone on the flight crew. I would have a conversation with her once we landed in Freychon.
I stopped to look in one of the mirrors. My dark blond hair was pulled back in a bun. My lips were pink and I wore the appropriate amount of makeup for a woman on the royal staff. Enough to not look pale, but not enough to be noticeable.
I was supposed to be a pleasing accessory, not a centerpiece. I should be able to blend into the background when prime ministers and presidents were in the room. I should be charming and convincing enough to persuade the same leaders to change their minds about trade deals and social policy. I also had to know the entire royal family’s whereabouts and the innermost details of Prince Dominic’s position. Getting the makeup right was as important as remembering how many wives and children the Prince of Saudi San had. I sighed.
My long-sleeved silk shirt was tucked into the subtle blue pencil skirt. A string of pearls hung around my neck. My pulse beat faster when I heard a car outside the jet.
I was afraid to look. I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together. I had a job to do.
“He’s here,” a valet whispered to Liddy.
“How does he look?” she asked.
“Hold on. I’m trying to get a look at him,” he replied, too eager for my liking. They were worse than the paparazzi.
I stood motionless. I should be at the top of the steps when he exited the car, but I was frozen. I should be standing there to greet His Royal Highness. After all, I was his manager. The person responsible for his entire schedule. The woman who organized his life.
My head snapped when I heard the car door slam shut.
“Have to say I think it’s the first time he doesn’t look hungover.” The valet chuckled. “But I’m sure it won’t take long.”
I glared at them both. “Shut up, immediately. I never want to hear that again. I’ll have your jobs for saying anything disrespectful about his majesty,” I hissed. “Get back to work. Tea. He needs tea, not your judgement.”
“Yes, ma’am.” They lowered their eyes and stopped gawking. “So sorry.”
I forced my feet to move toward the landing in front of the cabin door. My knees wobbled. I had switched into higher heels this morning. It seemed absurd in this moment.
He was on the staircase now. Any second he would walk through the door.
I swallowed hard and flattened the front of my skirt. I didn’t know why it suddenly felt tight against my thighs. Why my shirt felt hot. Why my pearls were about to strangle me.
It had been fifty days.
Fifty days since I deposited him in the secret facility. Since I had to walk away. Fifty days that I had to fill on my own without him. Without his laugh. Without his dark green eyes. Fifty days that felt as if I was trapped in a prison of my own.
What was a royal manager without a royal to manage?
“Your majesty.” Liddy curtsied.
The valet bowed. “Good morning, your highness.”
“Good morning to you as well,” he replied.