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Benedikt strode down the corridors towards his office. He knew he was scowling, jaw clenched, yet couldn’t yet mask his discontent. The few staff members he met scurried out of his way.
Great. They probably thought the honeymoon period with their new monarch was over and he was reverting to type. His father’s type. King Karl had been renowned for his bad temper when things didn’t go his way.
That was enough for Benedikt to rein in his anger. In his darker moments he’d recognised his father’s influence, his early years learning about the world and relationships from a ruthless narcissist.
He was lucky the old man had grown bored with parenthood so increasingly Benedikt had been raised by his mother. Karl had mainly intervened to interrogate his son on his learning, set impossible goals, and chastise his failures. Or use him as a hostage to the Queen’s compliance, ensuring she acted the devoted consort even when their marriage broke down.
Eventually Benedikt had been allowed to summer each year in the US when his mother vacationed there, visiting her father. Without that Benedikt might have grown as monstrous as Karl.
Away from the palace he’d learned right from wrong and how to control his impulses rather than reach out and take. But it hadn’t been easy and even now he sometimes had to step back and consider his decisions.
Benedikt slowed, doing his best at least to look unperturbed.
Technically he’d got what he needed. Annalena was here where he could keep an eye on her. Where she couldn’t get up to more mischief before this crisis was resolved.
But the woman had an uncanny ability to make him lose his cool. He’d had a lifetime to learn to mask his thoughts and feelings because his father had always played on emotions and weakness to his advantage.
With this one woman Benedikt felt too much.
He couldn’t pin her down, alternately thinking her a liar or deluded.Surelyher allegation about his father was untrue. As for the secret marriage, that must be a romantic fable concocted by her grandmother.
Yet something about the Princess Annalena had an authentic ring. A reluctant laugh huffed out. Even dressed like a milkmaid, she had more imperiousness in her little finger than some monarchs he’d met.
And charm too, when she chose to use it. He’d seen her with Colonel Ditmar and felt jealous of the old man. That smile…
Despite her wince when he called her Princess, she had the hauteur that came from a blue-blooded pedigree. She’d made him feel like an oaf though he’d been raised as Crown Prince.
She’d reminded him that he hadn’t invited her to stay, but ordered it. As if he were his father’s son in the worst possible way.
She was right. In that moment you’d happily have ordered security to stop her leaving.
Because they needed secrecy until this was sorted.
Or did the need to make her stay say something about his disturbing reaction to her?
Benedikt raked his hand across his scalp. He didn’t have time forreactionsto any woman.
Having her here was necessary. He needed to control the spread of her preposterous story until he could disprove it.
Yet you didn’t confiscate her phone. It would only take one call from her to the press.
No matter how tempting that had been, he was determined to prove himself different to his father. He was a fair-minded man, not a tyrant, even if he was determined to take control of this situation. Besides, if she’d planned to wreak immediate chaos, she’d have done that already.
He couldn’t work her out. She demanded he take her claims seriously, yet in the next breath talked about giving up the crown if he’d stop the dam.
Surely that proved this was a scam. How many people would give up the chance for wealth and royal privilege?
Despite his difficulties untangling his father’s more dubious arrangements, and reminding palace staff that they worked for the people as much as the King, there was no denying there were benefits to being ruler.
He entered his office, walked through to Matthias’s desk in the next room and propped his hip against the desk. ‘Any news?’
‘Nothing conclusive. Sorry.’ Matthias leaned back in his seat. ‘The Grand Duchess and her lady-in-waiting will be interviewed tomorrow and I’ve arranged for an expert to view the original documents.’
‘An expert?’
‘Someone who knows about fraudulent documents. The police and courts have used him.’
‘And the Grand Duchess is happy about that?’