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“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I just realized…” Victoria’s eyes welled with tears. “Lizzy, Dad won’t be there. No one will be there for my wedding; for yours, either, one day.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth wrapped her arms protectively around her younger sister in what she was hoping was a comforting hug. “I’ll be there in person, but they’ll all be there in spirit. You’re going to make a beautiful bride. And if you want me to, I can give David the speech Dad would have given him. Remember the one he gave your first boyfriend?”

Victoria laughed through her tears and said, “Yes, he tried to pull out that deep voice to scare him.”

“It worked. He brought you home early, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Victoria replied, pulling out of the hug now. “Small, Lizzy. Can I please have a small wedding?”

“I’ll do the best I can, but youaretechnically heir to the throne right now – weddings for direct heirs aren’t exactlysmallaffairs.”

“Maybe David and I can have a long engagement. You can meet someone and get married first. Then, when you’re pregnant, he and I can get married, and I won’t be the heir anymore,” Victoria suggested as she wiped her eyes.

Elizabeth allowed herself to laugh and said, “We’ll see.”

???

“Ma’am, may I have a moment?” Rebecca asked, entering Elizabeth’s office.

“Come in,” Elizabeth replied. “Can you give us a moment?” she asked her head of security.

Then, she stood, allowing him to stand as well. He bowed and left her with Rebecca.

“Have a seat,” she told Rebecca, sitting down herself.

Rebecca sat across from her and asked, “Any news?”

“They believe they’ve identified the man responsible for running the faction of anti-monarchists. They’ve not been able to find him yet, but they’re working on trying to get a location and to bring him in.”

“That’s great news,” Rebecca offered back.

“I want him to tell me why,” Elizabeth added. “Do you think he will?”

“If he does, Ma’am, I doubt it will be enough.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“May I present you with something, Ma’am?”

“Present me?”

“Yes. I wasn’t sure I was going to, but – I don’t know – she asked that I giveyouthe choice, and I think that’s the right thing to do.”

“What are you talking about, Rebecca?”

“There’s an American reporter in St. Rais. She got my phone number from someone. I’m not sure who, but she asked me for a meeting, and I went because I was curious.”

“You met with her?” Elizabeth leaned forward in her chair.

“Ma’am, I said nothing. It wasn’t an interview. She didn’t record me, and she didn’t take any notes, either. I’m not even sure she knows what my position is on your staff. We met at a café. She would like to do a story.”

“On the bombing?”

“No, and that’s what’s most interesting: she’s more interested in our history, the monarchy, and presenting you to the world, I think.”

“Me?”