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Hannah straightened, realizing he was right. “I didn’t mean to pry. I was simply waiting upon my...that is, the...lieutenant.” She didn’t say husband or prince, for it would only fuel the man’s rage.

Fürst Karl stepped forward, his eyes burning. “I ordered both of you to leave my country.”

Hannah drew upon every facet of her training to respond. “I understand how angry you must be with us. But—”

“You understand nothing.” The coldness in his voice was lined with pain.

Hannah prayed that she could somehow ease the prince’s anger and reassure him. But this was a man who was about to lose everything. His home, his title...even his family. No words would take away the loss.

“You didn’t live here your entire life, did you?” she began. “Do you remember what it was like before the palace?”

The prince seemed taken aback by her questions. Rightfully so, she supposed. Royalty was never meant to be interrogated.

“I never lived anywhere else.”

“You might not remember it,” she offered, changing tactics. “But surely, if you think back to your earliest memory, you know of a time when you were frightened.” She stepped closer to him, her own fears quaking inside. “When you were but a small child, pushed into a world you didn’t understand.”

Careful, Hannah. Don’t make him angrier.

But his face remained blank, as though she hadn’t spoken at all.

“I can understand why you might resent Lieutenant Thorpe,” she said gently. “To find out that your life was not what you thought it was...anyone would be angry at the changes.”

“Nothing has changed,” the Fürst insisted. “And I won’t let him do anything to upset the queen.”

The Prince’s protective nature over his mother made Hannah’s heart ache. She doubted if Queen Astri had ever accepted Fürst Karl as her son. In her mind, Hannah imagined a lonely boy, trying to win his mother’s love. And never succeeding.

“Lieutenant Thorpe came to find out the truth. Not to hurt anyone, especially not the queen.” She could see the pain in his eyes, of a man whose life was crumbling at his feet. “Talk to him, I beg of you. If the two of you would come to an understanding, there might be a way to compromise.”

Her words made the Fürst stiffen. He crossed the hallway, coming to stand directly in front of her. “There cannot be a compromise, Mrs. Thorpe. Lohenberg is my homeland, and I will die before handing my throne over to a stranger who knows nothing of our country.”

“He is your brother, by blood,” Hannah said quietly. “And regardless of the conspiracies that happened years ago, the two of you should put your differences aside. Try to work together.”

The prince shook his head. “It’s not possible.”

Hannah looked into his eyes, noting the trapped frustration. “Lieutenant Thorpe is a good man. And I want to believe you are, as well.”

“I care little about what anyone thinks of me. Least of all, the wife of a lieutenant.”

Her expression grew strained. “I am the daughter of a marquess. Not the wife of a lieutenant.” Steeling herself, she admitted, “I lied about being married. It was merely a way to stay with him.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer, trying to keep the bottled-up emotions from spilling over. “I want him to be happy. Whether he is a soldier or a prince.”

The prince’s expression grew taut. “You want to become a princess.”

“No.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, I’d rather be a soldier’s wife.” Glancing toward the queen’s chambers, she added, “I know what it is to be imprisoned in a life like this. To be measured and inspected. And still never be good enough.”

The prince’s gaze met hers, and she thought she detected a softening. For a moment, she saw herself mirrored in him and wondered if he, too, craved his freedom.

“You will always be a prince here,” she ventured, touching her own heart. “A man who loves Lohenberg as you do would make a strong adviser.”

“I’d make a better king,” the prince responded. His chin raised up, and he added, “Your days in Lohenberg are coming to an end. Rest assured, Lady Hannah, I’ll let no one take what belongs to me.”

Hannah waited the remainder of the morning for Michael, but when he finally emerged from the king’s chambers, she caught only a glimpse of him before the servants led him away. After they disappeared down the corridor, the Graf hobbled out, sinking gratefully into the chair offered by his servants.

“They accepted him, then?” Hannah asked. “Did the audience go well?”

“It did. And I should imagine they will formally acknowledge him as the Fürst within a day or so.” The Graf gave a relaxed smile. “There’s no need for you to stay in Lohenberg any longer.”

Hannah didn’t return his smile. “I promised I would remain for a few days.”

“There are others who will help him assimilate. He does not require your assistance.”

“Trusted servants?” She shook her head. “Not yet. There were two attempts on his life already. He needs someone to watch out for him, to make sure he’s safe.”

“He’ll have guards for that.” The Graf motioned a servant forward. “Escort Lady Hannah back to my coach.”

“Forgive me, Graf von Reischor...” the maidservant curtsied “...but the queen has already ordered a bedchamber prepared for Lady Hannah.”

Hannah held back her sigh of relief. Her thoughts were so tangled, right now all she wanted was to rest in Michael’s arms, to feel the warmth of his body beside her.

But he hadn’t spoken to her or even glanced in her direction when he’d left with the queen.

She tried to ignore the disappointment settling in her stomach.

As she followed the maidservant to one of the guest rooms, she was startled to cross paths with some of the guests she’d met aboard the Orpheus.

“Why, Lord Brentford,” she greeted, surprised to see the viscount. “And Miss Nelson. This is a surprise.”

The viscount beamed, returning the greeting. “I was delighted that the Konig accepted my request for an audience,” he explained. “And, of course, we simply had to bring Ophelia to meet the royal family. My wife insisted on it.”

Miss Nelson glanced at her father, clearly uncomfortable. She twisted her hands, not offering a greeting or any remark to Hannah.

“Where is Lady Brentford?” Hannah asked, curious as to why the viscountess was not with them.

“She is out shopping.” The viscount winced. “She claims that Ophelia needs a more dramatic gown for tonight, and she’s having a gown altered.”

“Perhaps I’ll see all of you at dinner this evening,” Hannah offered.

“Perhaps,” Lord Brentford replied. “We are hoping Ophelia will be presented to the crown prince. After all, he has not yet chosen a bride.”

Hannah wasn’t certain how Lord Brentford had wormed his way into the Schloss, but it was clear he wanted an advantageous marriage for his daughter.

“Good afternoon to you both,” she bid them in parting. Lord Brentford’s broad smile never faded as he continued down the corridor.

The maidservant, Johanna, showed her to a room decorated in shades of green and cream. Though it was small, each piece of furniture was exquisite with warm shades of wood and shining brass handles.

Hannah gave instructions for her trunks to be delivered to the Schloss, along with her own maid Estelle. Johanna promised to make all the necessary arrangements.

An hour later, when Johanna returned with Estelle and the trunks, Hannah asked her maid, “Where is Mrs. Turner?”

“She remained at the Graf’s estate,” Estelle answered. “On his orders.”

Likely to keep her safe, Hannah mused. Still, she wished for the woman’s friendly presence.

Behind the two maidservants, a tall, elegant lady entered the room. Her gray hair was pulled into a neat coiffeur, and she wore a flounced maroon dress with draping sleeves.

“I am Lady Schmertach, head of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting,” the woman introduced herself. “There are certain rules that all guests must abide by, and I am here to see to it that you understand them.”

Were all guests greeted this way? Hannah wondered. She felt rather like a child in the schoolroom, preparing to receive instructions.

After Lady Schmertach seated herself upon the velvet sofa, she cleared her throat. “First and foremost, you are not to address the king or queen under any circumstances. Should they choose to speak with you, they will send an attendant to fetch you.”

Rather like a pet dog, Hannah thought. While she listened, Estelle and Johanna began helping her to dress.

She noticed that they had selected a rose damask gown flecked with silver threads.

It had not been one of her favorites, and she interjected, “I would prefer the violet tarlatan with the flowers embroidered on the overskirt.”

Lady Schmertach’s expression hardened. “I was not finished explaining matters to you, Lady Hannah. Please do not interrupt. Courtesy is another rule by which we abide here.”

Years of Hannah’s own training in courtesy prevented her from snapping out her own retort at the queen’s lady. She bit her lip. “You were saying?”

Estelle continued working with Johanna, fitting the rose dress over Hannah’s corset. Hannah hid her displeasure, waiting for the older woman to finish her lecture.

“You will be seated at the end of the table, along with the other unmarried ladies.”

A little pang squeezed at her heart. So, Michael had not told anyone that they were married. She should have expected it, for it gave her a means of leaving the Schloss without anyone noticing.

Lady Schmertach continued her long diatribe, explaining that she should not expect to dance with Fürst Karl or be introduced.

“Royal marriages are not fairytales,” she insisted.

“They are political alliances that benefit both countries. So you must not allow yourself to fall into the common belief that he will notice you.”