Page 47

Bekah couldn’t see the man, but she’d bet he rolled his eyes so far he could see his brain.

He turned toward her. “Your Royal Highness, would you be so kind as to accompany me into the conference room?”

Setting the magazine to the side, Bekah stood, grateful she didn’t have to wear the towering heels she’d seen on so many other women in royal families. She hated those things.

The man stood to the side and allowed her to enter first.

On the other side of the table sat several older men, all looking quite grumpy. The man who’d come to get her joined them.

Her side of the table held two barristers she’d met with several times in the last couple of days, Thor, and an empty chair she figured was for her. The way the seats were arranged, the king was clearly with her group but seated at the head of the table.

Made sense.

Well, it only made sense in whatever world she now inhabited was - one where she’d married a prince, but only after her late husband, and someone she’d considered a friend, planned to kill her sister.

The gentlemen on her side of the table all stood as she walked toward them. Thor held the empty chair for her.

Once she was seated, the man directly across from her began to speak. He seemed to be in charge. Maybe?

“Ms. Vogel...”

“No.” Benjamin’s voice was quiet but carried significant authority.

The man looked over at him. “What’s the problem,sir?”

“The princess is a part of the Quatremaine family. You would do well to remember that.” The tone carried an implied threat, though Bekah didn’t know what the threat was. She guessed the other man did.

“Your Royal Highness, please tell us what you knew about Ian’s dealings with Steve.” She could hear the undertones of snark when he said the title.

“They were friends. That’s all I knew. I don’t know how they met or what they talked about when I wasn’t around. When I was around, it was pretty innocuous stuff. Their families, my family, dinner, the next wrestling match or whatever bloody, fighting thing it was they were going to watch. Things of that nature.”

“Did either one of them ever mention Øyanord to you?”

“Not to my recollection.” She was supposed to use that phrase or one like it a lot when she was pretty sure something hadn’t happened but wasn’t absolutely sure.

“Did you know you were a native Øyanordian?” Another man asked this question.

“How is that relevant?” one of the barristers asked.

“We believe it is,” the head guy replied.

She didn’t know their names. Maybe she should make some up. Larry, Moe, and Curly? Except the guy she would call Curly was bald.

Larry, Darryl, and Darryl? Few people of her generation would get that joke.

Kirk, Spock, McCoy? Luke, Han, and Chewie? The Hanson Brothers?Amigo Uno, Amigo Dos, y Amigo Tres? Her high school Spanish teacher would be mortified to discover Bekah didn’t remember much more than that.

“Ma’am, please answer the question.” Yep. Curly could turn on the snark while still being just polite enough not to get called out on it.

“No.” Short and simple. Her inclination was to explain, but they’d told her not to unless the question absolutely required it.

“Did you believe yourself to be native to the United States?”

The barrister to her right held up a hand. “Are you aware of the connotations that statement could have in the United States?”

The three men looked at each other. Curly spoke for them. “I’m afraid not.”

“I would recommend rewording your question.”