Princess in Peril

by Rachelle Mccalla

  Her brown eyes were warm under their thick lashes, and for a moment all Levi could think about was the kiss they’d shared earlier that day. It would be so easy to close the last few inches between them and kiss her again. So easy and yet so far beyond what he’d been called on to do.

  When his father opened the door a moment later, Levi was infinitely glad he’d chosen not to kiss the princess. As it was, Nicolas Grenaldo raised an eyebrow at the way Isabelle was wrapped neatly in his arms.

  Levi made no apology but stepped out of the room and away from Isabelle as she accompanied his father toward the lectern. Her hair was back up in its trademark high-piled arrangement, and she wore a simple pantsuit that looked elegant and professional.

  The gathering of reporters was small enough to suit Levi. He didn’t want a throng. Far from it. The news stations could share footage all they wanted once Isabelle was in the air. For her safety, he didn’t want to have to deal with any more people than was absolutely necessary.

  His father made the announcement—that Isabelle was alive and returning to Lydia to sort out what had happened there and try to determine if any of her family members had survived. When the inevitable deluge of questions for Isabelle began, Nicolas Grenaldo raised his hand.

  “Her Majesty has endured a horrible ordeal. Your prayers and support are far more necessary than answers at this point. She will share more with you when she has more to share.”

  That silenced them.

  Isabelle leaned toward the microphone. “I appreciate your concern. Please pray for the well-being of my family.”

  Thankfully, rather than another barrage of questions, a few considerate reporters clapped and the rest quickly did the same, showing Isabelle their support.

  She took a step back, and Levi was immediately at her side.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Her nod was slight, her royal smile still aimed at the reporters, but her words were clear enough. “Let’s go.”

  Sleeping on the flight back to Lydia was more difficult this time, perhaps because her fears outweighed her exhaustion. Isabelle struggled to find a comfortable position in the tiny window seat.

  “Worried?” Levi asked softly.

  Isabelle had hoped he was sleeping. It would have been nice for one of them to be well-rested, at least. “I have a lot to worry about.”

  “You don’t have to face Valli.” Levi’s expression was frank.

  “I know.” Isabelle studied his face, from the cuts that appeared to be starting to heal, to the bruises that were even uglier now. “But the world knows I’m alive now. They know I’m going to be in Lydia. If Valli tries anything, he’ll only draw attention to himself. There are too many eyes on Lydia right now for him to risk harming me under the circumstances.”

  “He might yet find a way.”

  She mustered up a smile. “That’s what you’re coming along for.”

  They fell into a somber silence, broken several minutes later by Levi. “Is this going to be too difficult for you?”

  “I—I don’t suppose—”

  “What I guess I’m asking is—can I do anything to help? I mean, besides trying my best to protect you.”

  Isabelle’s thoughts flew to the kiss they’d shared at the airport. But as her cheeks warmed with a deep blush, she realized that wasn’t what he meant.

  Levi must have sensed her discomfort. “Are there particular people or situations you wish to avoid? You mentioned not wanting to see Valli. Obviously that’s unavoidable at this point, and I suppose your ex-fiancé won’t be around—”

  “I should hope not.”

  “And the scene of the—” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’ll want to avoid … “

  “Oh, that.” If possible, Isabelle felt her blush deepen. “No, Tyrone’s attack on me didn’t take place in Lydia. We were in upstate New York, actually, at a place he owns in the Adirondacks. There’s a riding stable near there, and it was such a peaceful place. I was just finishing college at Dartmouth, so it was only a two-hour drive away. I’d hoped to get to know him better. I had sensed for some time that something was wrong.” She frowned, realizing she’d spoken more to Levi about that painful time than she’d shared with anyone in the two years since.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s in the past. I got through that, and I suppose I’ll get through this, too, with God’s help. God has never let our family lose the nation of Lydia, not in almost two millennia. They’ve fallen back and lost territory and even gone into hiding before, but as long as the nation of Lydia has existed to bring glory to God, the Royal House of Lydia has never been snuffed out. And I pray we never will be.”

  Levi extended his hand toward her. “Would you like to pray?”

  His offer was far too welcome to pass up, even if she wasn’t sure how she’d react to holding his hand again. Their prayers in the alcove off the chapel earlier had been a great comfort to her, as had his close presence supporting her. She slipped her hands into his. The burns he’d sustained had finally been treated and were healing nicely, not that he’d ever let them slow him down.

  “I’d like that.” She dipped her forehead near to his. This time the words came in whispers, in starts and stops, with Levi filling in requests for strength and protection, but she was finally able to give all her fears to God.

  Levi was infinitely glad that Isabelle had managed to fall sleep. Their prayer time appeared to have eased her fears. He was grateful for that. Their mission was precarious enough without the added distraction of fear.

  Though he’d hoped their arrival would be smooth, he saw immediately upon landing in the Lydian airport in Sardis that they wouldn’t be that fortunate. News crews from stations around the world were clustered on the tarmac.

  Isabelle met his eyes. “So much for staying off their radar.”

  Half a dozen soldiers made their way through the news crews.

  “The second one.” Levi pointed through the plane window. “Isn’t that—”

  “Sergio Cana, my brother’s friend. The one who warned us at the Embassy.”

  Levi felt a moment’s relief that the soldier hadn’t been removed from his position. Then he wondered why not. Had he struck a deal with the insurgents to avoid a stiff punishment? “I’m still not sure we can trust him,” Levi warned Isabelle as they prepared to disembark.

  “I agree.”

  They descended the steps of the plane, and the next several minutes were a blur. Reporters shoved microphones at them, and Isabelle did an excellent job of ignoring them until they reached the door to the airport. But Levi had watched her ears growing redder, and she spun around in the doorway and faced them all.

  “Where are all of you when I travel to Africa to dig wells? Where are you when I visit orphanages and hospitals in Third World countries? Twenty-four thousand children die every day from preventable causes. So why do you care so much about my family?” She gave them all a pleading look before she turned and hurried inside.

  The soldiers led them to a waiting limo.

  Isabelle balked at the sight of it.

  “It’s not—” he started.

  But she shook her head. “All our limousines were destroyed in the attack. This one belongs to the U.S. Embassy.”

  “It looks unscathed.”

  “All the more reason not to trust Valli.”

  Isabelle ducked into the car, and he followed so closely that she no more than sat and he was seated beside her. She slipped her hand into his.

  He wondered if she realized what she’d done. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze.

  She squeezed back.

  “You did a good job handling the media.”

  Isabelle blushed. “I shouldn’t stir them up, I know, but they’ve never been on my side. They maligned me so badly when I broke off my engagement to Tyrone.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Levi assured her, giving her hand another gentle squeeze. “I thought you handled them very well.” />
  Isabelle looked away through the window, and Levi got the distinct sense she was finished with the conversation. Had his words upset her? Or did she simply have so much else on her mind?

  He felt her tense every time the limo paused, but they arrived at the Hall of Justice, as planned, to meet with Prime Minister Gloria Emini. Their footsteps echoed through the marble halls as they made their way to the Chamber of Parliamentary Session. Four of the six soldiers went ahead of them and two behind. When they reached the heavy wood-inlaid doors, the two head soldiers each pulled one open, stepping each to the side so the princess could pass.

  Although their meeting was technically only to be with Prime Minister Emini, Levi saw the semi-circu lar rows of seats were nearly filled.

  Isabelle had dropped his hand as they’d left the limo, but she stayed close beside him as they approached the prime minister.

  Gloria Emini, an impeccably groomed, slender woman in her late fifties, stepped down from her usual post on the dais and welcomed Isabelle with open arms.

  “Your Majesty.” The prime minister hugged the princess. “It is such a relief to see you alive. Praise the Lord.”

  “Praise the Lord,” Isabelle echoed, smiling graciously. “It’s good to see you, too. Now, what do we need to do to allow Parliament to meet? Have you found a contingency to cover our current circumstances?”

  Gloria Emini shook her head gravely. “The members of Parliament can, of course, meet unofficially at any time. But no official business can take place without the authority of the ruling sovereign, save the appointment of a new ruling sovereign.”

  Levi watched as Isabelle absorbed the news. He knew she’d been hoping some obscure rule would be uncovered that would state otherwise.

  “Is there any way—” Isabelle met Gloria eye-to-eye “—any temporary status I could rule under that would allow my father to resume his rule if he is found to have survived the attack?”

  “There is nothing, Your Majesty. The laws of Lydian succession are very clear. Once the crown passes from a sovereign ruler, it cannot be returned. It can only be passed along to another.”

  Levi was aware of the many pairs of eyes watching them carefully. The chamber was full, but no one made a sound, as all those assembled strained to hear the unfolding conversation.

  “I would like to give my father more time. I believe he is likely still alive.”

  Gloria cast a grave look. “The fact that he has not made his whereabouts known does not sit well with Parliament. Almost two days have passed since the attack. I understand that the circumstances are grave and an attempt was made on his life. But he has a duty to rule his people. If he cannot fulfill that duty, Parliament has the right to name his successor.”

  “But I’m not ready to—”

  “It isn’t up to you.” Gloria placed one hand on Isabelle’s arm and dropped her voice. Levi had to lean in closely to hear her next words.

  “There has been a request that the order of succession be revisited.”

  It took Levi a moment to grasp the meaning of the prime minister’s words.

  Isabelle looked stunned. “What? The rest of the royal family is absent. I’m next in line to the throne, the only member of the royal family—”

  Gloria squeezed Isabelle’s arm. “King Philip’s grandfather, Alexander the third, had an older brother, Basil.”

  “Basil abdicated. He ran off to America with a Greek actress and died four years later.”

  “Basil had a daughter.”

  Levi could see a vein pulsing furiously in Isabelle’s throat. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. It had to be a thousand times more difficult for Isabelle.

  Though Gloria’s expression was sympathetic, she didn’t hesitate to press on. “Milo,” she addressed the parliamentary clerk, “could you read to us the relevant passage from the Articles of Succession?”

  Isabelle wavered slightly. Though he had been standing by quietly less than an arm’s length from her, Levi took a step closer and placed a steadying hand at Isabelle’s back. He wished he could do more to support her, but all of Parliament was watching intently, and he knew he had to look bad enough with the cuts and bruises on his face.

  Milo stood at a large open book that rested on a raised podium near the front of the chamber. He cleared his throat. “The line of ascension is restricted to the natural legitimate descendents of Lydia, founder of the first church of Lydia, founding mother the kingdom of Lydia and servant of God. Primacy follows to the eldest natural legitimate descendent of the eldest natural legitimate descendent of most direct relation to our founding mother Lydia, the primogenitor of the Lydian line, without regard to gender, providing the heir is a willing ruler and individual of regarded faith.”

  When he had finished reading, Milo looked up at the assembly and pushed his glasses higher on his nose.

  Levi could feel Isabelle trembling, but she kept her voice strong as she spoke. “Who, then? Who is next in line to the throne?”

  Movement near the side of the crowded room drew Levi’s attention, and he turned in time to see Stephanos Valli step out from a cluster of members of Parliament.

  Though he wished he could cover Isabelle’s eyes and ears and whisk her off before she could hear what Gloria was about to say, there was nothing Levi could do but stand firm and pray.

  Gloria Emini took a step back from the princess and gestured with her arm to Stephanos Valli as he joined their circle.

  The prime minister cleared her throat. “There is an older natural legitimate descendent than you, Isabelle. Basil of Lydia has a grandson. Stephanos Valli.”

  NINE

  Isabelle wanted to scream. For a moment she thought she might faint, but Levi’s hand supported her back and kept her upright. She struggled to find her voice, more than aware that the members of Parliament were watching her and fully cognizant of their pivotal role in crowning the next ruler of Lydia.

  “Stephanos Valli is not a citizen of Lydia.” She wished her voice was stronger.

  Milo cleared his throat from the podium. “He can become a citizen. He’s lived in the country long enough to become a citizen right now. There is no requirement that the ruler be born a citizen.”

  “I see.” Much as Isabelle wanted to protest that there ought to be such a requirement, the last thing she needed was to be found in contempt of the Articles of Succession. Knowing it was expected, she finally let her eyes fall from Milo the parliamentary clerk to Stephanos Valli, who stood smugly beside the prime minister, his beady eyes glittering.

  “I, too, was shocked by this discovery.” Valli’s teeth glinted unnaturally white as he spoke. “But I have always followed the laws of Lydia during my many years of faithful service to this nation. Your father is obviously unable or unwilling to rule. Lydia needs a king. And if the law requires me to be king, who am I to refuse it?”

  Isabelle had never been a violent person, but she was sorely tempted to slap the man for his ugly insinuations in front of Parliament. Not only was he clearly behind the attack, but now she understood his motive: to rid Lydia of anyone with a claim to the throne so the way would be clear for his succession. Her father, King Philip, was about six years older than Valli. As long as Philip was alive, Valli had no claim to the throne. What had Valli done to her father?

  The man who’d tried to have her entire family murdered now extended his hand toward her.

  To refuse it in front of Parliament would only turn people against her and win sympathy for Valli. No doubt that was part of why he offered it.

  Poise and grace had been instilled in her since birth. She placed her hand in his.

  He raised it to his lips.

  She just managed not to cringe, leaning back against Levi’s supportive hand at her back and reminding herself that she had to make nice to Valli if she intended to gather evidence against him—evidence that could save her family.

  “My dear princess,” Valli continued, still holding her hand. “I know you have been t
hrough a great deal. If I may, I’d like to invite you to stay at my residence behind the Embassy. There are many aspects of the current situation I would like to discuss with you.”

  Why didn’t he want her staying in her own room at the palace? Isabelle stole a glance at Levi, and he raised one eyebrow slightly as though encouraging her.

  She quickly realized what he was getting at. Though she would have preferred the comfort of her own room, Valli’s invitation was ideal. She needed evidence against him. That was far more likely to be found at his residence, not hers.

  “Thank you for your kind invitation,” she nodded agreeably and was relieved when Valli finally dropped her hand. “I’m sure we have much to discuss.” She turned to the prime minister. “How does Parliament wish to proceed?”

  “We don’t wish to rush into anything,” Gloria Emini explained, “but at the same time, we feel a certain urgency to have an installed ruler, especially given the current turmoil. Lydia is in a state of unrest and cannot move beyond that state until the rightful ruler has been crowned.”

  “I understand,” Isabelle murmured.

  Gloria continued. “Please, meet with the ambassador. Discuss everything you need to. My office will contact you both in the morning.”

  Valli’s smile broadened. “Shall we, then? I’ll meet you at the Embassy shortly. You still have the car I sent for you?”

  “Yes. And thank you.” Isabelle didn’t want to appear ungracious. She nodded at the prime minister and the clerk before exiting down the aisle as quickly as she appropriately could. The soldiers followed her to the limo.

  As soon as Levi was seated next to her, she pressed her lips to his ear.

  “I’d be surprised if this car isn’t bugged.”

  “I agree.” Levi spoke in a voice that was hardly more than a breath. “You did a fabulous job in there. I was ready to slug Valli.”

  Isabelle almost laughed with relief at his admission. “Thank you.” She leaned against his shoulder as she spoke, as much for the comfort it offered as by necessity to keep from being overheard by any devices Valli might have planted. A shudder ran up her spine just thinking about the disastrous meeting. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know if I could have done that alone.”