Page 45

T hree days later

“Lady Hannah, you simply must wear white,“ her maid Estelle argued, holding up one of her mother’s lists. “Lady Rothburne specifically listed this gown in her instructions, should you attend a formal occasion.”

“No, I disagree. White would make her brown hair stand out too much,” Lady Schmertach argued. “She needs something softer, more feminine.”

The two ladies were battling between an embroidered ivory silk gown and a pale sea-green gown trimmed with antique lace.

Tonight, the king was planning to formally acknowledge Michael as the crown prince to the people of Vermisten.

In turn, Michael intended to announce their betrothal.

The entire palace was buzzing with the news.

Hannah ignored the two bickering ladies and opened the door to her wardrobe.

Staring at her choices, she selected a crimson silk gown trimmed with ribbons and pearls.

It would bare her shoulders, with only slight wisps of fabric as sleeves on her upper arms. With long white gloves, the gown would be vibrant, commanding everyone’s attention.

“I will wear this.”

Both women gaped at her. “But, Lady Hannah, that color is too scandalous,” Estelle burst in.

“It’s the sort of dress a courtesan would wear,” Lady Schmertach interjected. “Not a princess.”

No, it wasn’t at all the dress a princess would wear. At least, not a princess who would be subservient to the wishes of those around her. Not a princess who would hide behind lists and rules, wondering if she was behaving like a proper lady.

No, it was the gown that a confident woman would wear. A woman who was making her own rules.

Hannah’s smile was serene. “I have made my decision.”

“But, my lady, you can’t possibly—”

“You will abide by my wishes, or you will both find yourselves in another post.” Hannah sent them a cool, commanding look, and her message was clear. After exchanging looks, both women dropped into curtsies.

My goodness, that felt good. Liberating, actually. She’d never given orders before, always letting others dictate her decisions.

“Do you...wish to wear the diamonds or the rubies, my lady?” Estelle ventured.

“The rubies,” Hannah decided.

She held out her arms, waiting for them to finish dressing her. Estelle clamped her mouth shut and obeyed. Though Lady Schmertach appeared horrified, she, too, assisted the maid. When they had finished, a soft knock sounded at the door.

Lady Schmertach answered it at Hannah’s bidding, and a footman came forth with a message.

“The king has requested your presence, Lady Hannah. He wishes to speak with you about your betrothal.” The servant bowed and stepped back into the hall, waiting to escort her.

She couldn’t exactly keep the king waiting, so she followed the footman with Lady Schmertach trailing as a silent chaperone.

Hannah felt more than conspicuous in her red gown, particularly for a royal summons. It was one thing to wear a shocking dress for a court ball—it was another to wear such a garment in front of a dying king.

The footman led her into the king’s chambers, where she saw the monarch seated in a high-backed, upholstered chair.

Hannah fell into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty, I received your summons.” It was the first time she had ever been in the presence of a king. Her nerves grew rattled, and she was afraid of somehow saying the wrong thing.

The king was not old, but illness had drawn away his strength.

His gray hair hung at his shoulders, deep wrinkles set within his eyes.

Yet she sensed a ruthless air of authority.

His gaze passed over her gown with disapproval.

“I understand that my son wishes to marry you. And that you are the daughter of an English marquess.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Why would you believe that you could possibly understand the role of a princess? Do you think yourself capable of ruling at his side?”

No, she didn’t know anything about ruling a country, any more than Michael did. But beneath his pointed questions, she saw a man who was trying to intimidate her.

Be polite , she warned herself. “I can learn what I need to know.”

The king regarded her with dismissal. “You haven’t any idea what the life of a princess is like. I suppose you believe that princesses sit around all day wearing diamonds and choosing new gowns.”

His callous remark sent all of her years of good manners and training up in flames. Hannah counted silently to five, then ten. “No, that’s not what I believe at all.”

“You want to marry my son because you want to become royalty, isn’t that right?”

“I am going to marry Michael Thorpe,” she said firmly. “Not a prince or a Fürst, or whatever else you want to call him. I am going to marry the man I love, not his title.”

Before the king could add another sardonic remark, she plunged forward. “And, yes , I know exactly what the life of a princess is like. She has rules to obey, expectations to live up to, and countless advisers telling her what she should and shouldn’t do.”

Hannah picked up her skirts and stood directly in front of the king. “And I would likely be the worst sort of princess you’d ever have. Do you want to know why?”

The king shook his head, but she spied a gleam in his eyes.

“Because I refuse to live like that. I don’t care at all whether I should be wearing a white gown or pearls or a crown. Or whether I should host a garden party or an evening soirée.” Her hands clenched into fists at her side.

She gathered the edges of her temper and continued.

“I care about whether the man I love is safe at night. I care about a widowed woman, Mrs. Turner, who risked her own life to save his. And I care about your other son who is about to lose not only his kingdom tonight, but his own father. Just because he was born on the wrong side of the sheets.”

When she was finished, her lungs were burning. But Hannah met the king’s enigmatic gaze with no regrets.

“You’re wrong, Lady Hannah,” the king said. “You wouldn’t be at all the worst sort of princess. You’d be the kind of princess I would want my son to marry.”

He reached out for her hand, and smiled. “After the ceremony, I have no doubt you will tell me all the changes I need to make to my kingdom.” He coughed, signaling to a servant for his medicine. Then he leaned back against the chair to rest.

Hannah’s face turned the same shade as her dress. “My mother would be appalled at what I’ve just said to you.”

“I prefer a woman who speaks her mind. And—” the king’s smile turned wicked “—that is a fetching gown, I must say.”

For the ceremony, Michael had ordered thirty guards to surround them, with more men disguised as townspeople to infiltrate the crowds for the greatest protection.

“We don’t need an army,” Hannah protested, taking his hand in hers. “It’s only a ceremony and a blessing. The king will acknowledge you as his son, and there will be a ball tonight. You’re behaving as though we’re about to go to war.”

“I’m going to keep you safe.” Michael studied every angle of the men, ensuring that each one was in his place.

Stealing a glance toward Hannah, he added, “As beautiful as you look tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else tried to take you away from me.

And I’d rather not murder a man in the midst of the ceremony, all things considered. ”

“I’m so glad you decided to take your place as prince.

” Hannah leaned in and pressed a kiss upon his cheek.

The diamond-and-aquamarine ring sparkled upon her hand.

Though the queen had tried to get her to wear an heirloom betrothal ring that belonged to one of his great-grandmothers, Hannah had refused.

“I don’t have a choice,” Michael admitted, “but it’s the right thing to do.”

Though he had not been raised to a life of privilege, he could use his past experience to help the people.

He could be a better prince, precisely because he understood their hardships and could relate to them.

The guardsmen, in particular, had already begun treating him as their ruler.

Word had spread about how he had led them against Lady Brentford’s men and saved their lives.

“You should consider Karl as one of your advisers,” Hannah suggested, with a smile. “I’ve never met a man so devoted to his country.”

“I don’t entirely trust him.” Michael still felt a lingering resentment that Karl had found Hannah first. And despite her claims that the Fürst had been honorable, Michael couldn’t believe the man’s motives were selfless.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I asked a guardsman to check on Lady Brentford,” Hannah said. “Even though the king sent away the viscount and his daughter, I have a bad feeling about her imprisonment.”

“There were three men guarding her,” Michael insisted. What he didn’t tell her was that he, too, had gone to ensure Lady Brentford remained imprisoned. The viscountess had laughed at him again, swearing that he would never become king.

“Nothing will happen,” Michael promised.

“I hope not.”

They could not engage in further conversation, because it was time to join the king and queen on the dais.

Hours of political speeches preceded the king’s formal announcement.

Though Konig Sweyn had to lean upon his servants to stand before the people, his proclamation was clear and undeniable.

Michael was his true son and would inherit the throne.

Michael hardly heard a word of the king’s speech. His gaze studied each and every member of the crowd, for fear of someone threatening Hannah. But when the archbishop approached to give the blessing, Michael had no choice but to leave her side.

A flicker of motion caught his attention. He saw Karl, standing amid the crowd, only a few feet away. There was a look of determination in the former Prince’s eyes, just as he raised his revolver.

Michael threw himself toward Hannah and the gun exploded.