The Secret Princess

by Beth Harbison

  “When will the test results come back?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I’ve asked them to rush. It may be within the week.”

  She calculated when the winter ball was, since that was the first royal event in which her identity would be questioned publicly. It was six days away. People could speculate all they wanted within that time. “Then we’ll just have to wait it out,” she said.

  He looked at her for a moment, then laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You still don’t understand your importance here, do you?”

  “So far, I have no importance here,” she said defiantly.

  “At this point,” he said, too patiently, “it ceases to matter what the test results say. At least as far as the Lufthanian people are concerned. Your picture has appeared on the front page of the newspaper, looking, incidentally, so like your mother that it’s unmistakable. A palace insider has confirmed that you are, indeed, the missing Princess Amelia.” He expelled a long breath. “This will not go away.”

  “Meaning…?” She had the ominous feeling that whatever he was getting at required more of her than of anyone else.

  “Meaning you are expected to be the princess. Now.”

  “But I can’t!” The whole idea was so absurd, she could barely formulate a response. “I can’t just be a princess because the newspapers want one.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Can’t you just tell the press about the pending blood test?”

  “And cast your legitimacy into doubt?” He scoffed. “When you are formally welcomed back—and you will be—it must be without any shadow of doubt having ever been placed on you.”

  “Okay, I can see that. But why say anything at all, then? Why would I need to make a public appearance before, say, the winter ball next week? I can just be the quiet, mysterious visitor.”

  Will turned around and snapped his fingers. “That’s it! You’re a genius.”

  “No, I’m not—”

  He shot her a silencing look, but it was tinged with humor. “I’ll have Franz announce that you’re not making your first public appearance until the ball. By then you, and anyone else who wants it, will have definitive proof.” He nodded, pleased with himself. “That will work.”

  She didn’t answer right away. If the blood test results came back positive, and if she truly was the missing Princess Amelia, then she would have a duty to the country.

  Wouldn’t she?

  She wasn’t entirely sure how to think about that, or how to decide just what that duty would be, or how far she needed to go to fulfill it. But certainly she couldn’t just turn her back on Lufthania.

  Or on Will.

  He had come so far to find her. Done so much. And he’d done it all with the best interests of his people at heart. The act of abdicating the throne was so completely selfless, she felt terrible even contemplating leaving him to this position he didn’t want.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted the position, either. Sure, it was glamorous to sit in Dentytown and imagine being a princess, but now that she was here she saw the tremendous responsibility that went along with the job.

  Then again, if it was true and she was Princess Amelia, she was the only possible heir. She couldn’t refuse the position in favor of a younger sibling, or a cousin, or anyone else. If she was Princess Amelia, it was up to her or Will. That was it.

  And if she refused the position, and it had to be Will, he would have to abandon his hopes of actually helping his country in a substantial way.

  The weight of her predicament settled heavily on her shoulders. For the first time, she understood the serious implications that Will had been wrestling with all this time.

  “Let’s just say you’re right,” she said slowly. “What then?”

  He looked surprised. “If I’m right about what? About you?”

  She couldn’t even say the words. She merely nodded.

  He smiled. “So you are starting to see it.”

  “No,” she objected quickly. “No, I’m just asking you theoretically. What would happen if I—or anyone—turned out to be the missing princess?”

  To his credit, he didn’t leap on her question with a triumphant Aha! Instead, he answered her matter-of-factly. “The transition would be smooth, except for a great deal of celebration in the country. And, to be honest, probably a bit of media coverage.”

  “But what, exactly, would happen? Would you just stand in the town square and announce there’s a new monarch or what?”

  He smiled. “It would be announced from the palace. As would my abdication. You would be introduced formally as the princess and take up residence here. You would be given a private secretary, who would arrange your appearances and charitable engagements. Then,” he said, shrugging, “you could do whatever you like.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Anything?”

  “Your life is your own.”

  “So, then my family truly could come and stay? Indefinitely? Or my friends?”

  “Of course,” he answered. “There is no strict protocol for you to follow. You could write your own script, so to speak.”

  For one crazy moment, she could imagine it. She could see herself living in Lufthania and waking up daily to this beautiful landscape.

  Thing was, when she pictured it, she pictured Will. For some reason, he was all wrapped up in her picture of Lufthania and of palace life. It was more difficult for her to picture herself alone in the palace than here with him.

  “Are you considering staying, or trying to think of a way to tell me you’re leaving?” Will asked, bringing Amy out of her thoughts.

  She hesitated. “I’m wishing the test results would come back so I would know whether or not there was really anything for me to consider.”

  He touched her cheek. “There is much for you to consider,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. “Make no mistake about that.”

  She swallowed but said nothing.

  Their gazes lingered on each other for a moment.

  Then, suddenly, Will was brisk. “I have business to attend to,” he said, stepping away from her. “I trust you can make it back to your rooms.”

  She nodded. “No problem. I’ll find my way.”

  “Good. I’ll see you later, then. I hope you’ll think about what I said.”

  He barely waited for her response before turning and striding from the room.

  Amy stood still, listening to his footsteps recede down the hall and disappear before she let out a long, pent-up breath.

  But she wouldn’t breathe fully until the test results came back.

  Will strode from the room and straight down to his office, although he couldn’t imagine getting any work done right now. Amé was an incredible distraction. He could well imagine spending the next twelve months anticipating her appearance in the mornings and tossing repartee back and forth with her all day.

  What he imagined for the nights didn’t bear thinking about.

  He knew from the outset that this was an emotional situation for him. How could it not be? Despite his feeling of illegitimacy, he had been groomed nearly his entire life for the position he was trying so desperately to abandon now. And there was no guarantee he could succeed in the civil service. He was going to have to begin small and run for public office at the next election. It was entirely possible that the people wouldn’t elect him.

  But then again, if they didn’t want to elect him to office, then surely they didn’t want him as their prince, either.

  By that logic, there was no way he was doing the wrong thing. Being right didn’t make it any easier to do.

  If Amé had been homely, it would have been easier. Homely and dull. And eager to take the throne. That would have been perfect. He could have passed the reins to her and moved on without looking back.

  But when he contemplated leaving Amé, it was much more difficult. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t handle the position. He knew she could. She was a strong, vibrant woman, with more th
an enough energy for everything she’d have to do. She didn’t need him.

  It was worse. He was starting to fear that he, given half a chance, might end up needing her. And that prospect was intolerable.

  When he got to his office, he found Franz there, talking on the telephone. When his eyes alighted on Will, he held up a hand, thanked whomever he was speaking with and promised to call them back, then hung up the receiver.

  “What are you still doing here, Franz?” Will asked, checking his watch. “Shouldn’t you have gone half an hour ago?”

  “I’m afraid something has come up,” Franz said, jotting something on a notepad. “A small matter of state.”

  “What is it?”

  “A cousin to the Princess of Carsoria has passed away. The Duchess of Kalone. We’ll need to send a representative to the funeral.”

  “When is it?”

  “The day after tomorrow. I was thinking perhaps General Heim—”

  “I’ll go.”

  Franz looked surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said I’ll go to the funeral. I met the duchess several times and liked her very much. A lovely young woman.”

  “She was ninety-four. Perhaps you have her confused with someone else.”

  Will tried to hide his irritation. He wanted to get away for a few days, to collect himself and hopefully shake this disturbing interest he was developing in Amé. This was the perfect excuse. “This may be my last royal duty, Franz. I’ll do it.”

  “Very well, sir.” Franz nodded uncertainly. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  “Good.” Will went to look out the window so Franz couldn’t read anything into his expression. “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.” He turned to face Franz. “I trust you will help Amé if she needs anything?”

  “As you wish.”

  Will nodded, satisfied. “Excellent. Then I’ll go tomorrow and come back in a few days. By then maybe the DNA test results will be complete and we can make a formal announcement of Amé’s return.”

  Chapter Eight

  “He’s gone?” Amy tried to fight the panic that rose in her breast.

  “Only for a few days, dear.” Letty patted her shoulder. “I know you’ll miss him, but absence does make the heart grow fonder.”

  “It’s not that I miss him,” Amy objected. “It’s just that, who knows what kind of disaster I’ll make of things?”

  Letty looked thoughtful. “You need Prince Wilhelm here to protect you.”

  “Exactly.” Amy flopped down on the wing chair in her room. “God help me. “My foremothers are spinning in their graves.”

  Letty clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Nonsense, child. There are times when only one person fully understands the role you are expected to fulfill, and he is not here. It isn’t weak for you to be afraid. It is normal.”

  Amy’s eyes filled with burning gratitude. “Thank you.” But she was still uncomfortable with Will’s absence. She understood why a funeral would cause him to leave unexpectedly, but so quickly that he couldn’t even say goodbye? Not that she felt he owed her an explanation or anything, but she had kind of felt they were getting closer. Forget the kiss—he had been so sensitive to her, so caring. It just didn’t seem like him to up and leave without a word like that.

  Then again, she didn’t really know him.

  “Let’s prepare you for the week ahead, shall we?” Letty said with confidence.

  “Thanks, Letty. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

  “It wasn’t easy to get along without you, either, my child. I’m so very glad you’re back. If only your mama were here…” Letty’s voice trailed off and for a moment she appeared lost in time. Then she snapped back and said, “We must find your dress for the ball.” She went to the closet and threw open the door. “Did you bring something formal?”

  “Yes,” Amy began. “It’s in the closet.”

  “Where?” Letty asked, moving the hangers full of clothes aside one by one. “Is it in here?” She took the formal gown Amy had bought from Burdell’s last month and moved it aside along with the rest. “I don’t see it.”

  Amy’s face grew warm as she reached in and pulled out the dress Letty had just moved aside. “Here it is.” Letty looked at the simple black dress, then at Amy. “This? Oh, no, no, no, my dear. This will never do.”

  “Why not? Isn’t it fancy enough?”

  “That is a cocktail dress,” Letty explained. “What you need is a formal ball gown. Let me see what I can do.” She lifted the telephone receiver and punched in three numbers, then spoke in German to someone on the other end of the line. When she hung up, she turned to Amy and said, “Fear not. You will have a dress by tomorrow.”

  “From where?”

  “I’m having Lufthania’s finest designer, Eldine, bring some dresses over for you.”

  “That’s really not necessary—”

  Letty would hear none of that. “I wonder if you’d also like something done to your hair.” She flipped her fingers through Amy’s long, straight hair.

  Amy had to laugh. She wasn’t insulted by Letty’s suggestion. Her friends had told her more than once that it looked more like 1970s Cher than was flattering. “You know, Letty,” she said, “I’m up for anything. In fact, I’d welcome a change.”

  “How exciting!” Letty exclaimed. “Then I shall have the hairdresser, a manicurist and an aesthetician come in. Oh, and I’ll have Eldine bring several designs for you, not just ball gowns.”

  “Are you sure Prince Wilhelm won’t mind?” Amy asked.

  “Darling,” Letty said, beaming at Amy. “He will be delighted. Trust me.”

  Two days later, Amy’s hair was about six inches shorter, cut into flattering layers that framed her face. Her skin was smooth and glowing from the facial Letty had arranged, and she had a closet full of expensive designer clothes that fit her as if they had been sewn for her alone. What’s more, Eldine refused to accept any payment for them, which Amy thought was incredibly generous. Letty said later that Eldine knew that the exposure she would get with Amy wearing her clothes was far better than any advertising she could pay for, but Amy was still touched by the gesture.

  She was feeling much more confident that evening as she sat in the window seat of her room, watching the snow drift slowly down and sipping Letty’s wonderful hot chocolate.

  She was waiting for Letty to bring her a refill when there was a knock on her door.

  “Come on in, Letty, you don’t need to knock.” She turned on the window seat just as the door opened and Will came in.

  His glossy dark hair was mussed, as if it had been a long day and he hadn’t bothered to look in a mirror. He was still wearing a dark wool overcoat, which was dotted with snow, and there was a weariness in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

  “Letty is giving us some time alone,” he said. “You can ring for her later.”

  “Is everything all right?” Amy asked.

  “Your DNA test results have come back.” He produced a torn envelope from his pocket.

  Suddenly she didn’t want to know. She hadn’t begun to think of herself as royalty, but the faces in the paintings Will had shown her had become her friends. In the two days he’d been gone, she must have returned to the portrait hall at least a half a dozen times, studying the faces and wondering if it was truly possible that they were her family.

  They had begun to feel like kin, though it was possible that she felt that way out of the sheer power of wanting to belong. The imagination was a powerful thing, especially when combined with her heart’s desire to know where she came from.

  “May I sit down?” Will asked, indicating the chair opposite her.

  “Of course,” she said, pulling her robe closer to her.

  “Are you cold?” He took his coat off and held it out to her.

  “No, I’m not cold. I’m just a little…” Scared? Hopeful? Both? She didn’t bother to try to articulate her feelings. “Are th
ose the results there?” She pointed to the envelope.

  “They are.” It was obvious the envelope had been opened in haste. He handed it to her but said, “The details are in German but the conclusion is clear.”

  “And…?” She swallowed hard.

  He looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. His gaze, though weary, was penetrating. “And you are the Princess Amelia.”

  Her breath left her in one long, shuddering stream. “Are you sure?” she asked, barely daring to hope. “Is there any chance there could be a mistake?”

  “The test result accuracy exceeds 99.99 percent,” he said. “They tested sixteen markers, then ran all exclusions twice for confirmation. There is no mistake.”

  She didn’t fully understand the science of it. She’d been more interested in English in school. But his conclusion, and the conclusion of the lab, was clear. “Do you promise me,” she said, her voice weak with emotion, “that you haven’t fudged the results in order to get the princess you need so desperately?”

  He laughed so spontaneously that she had to believe it was sincere. “Amé, if I were so desperate for a princess that I would go to those measures, I assure you I could have found a much more willing and predictable candidate than you.”

  She had to smile. “I guess you’re right.”

  “I promise you,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. “I would not lie to you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, but she tried to keep things light. “Is that right? Franz?”

  His face colored slightly. “You have my word that I will never attempt to deceive you again.”

  She believed him. “So what happens now?”

  “That is up to you. I want you to stay. But you are not a captive here. You must listen to your heart and decide from that.”

  She gave a laugh. “My heart has been unreliable lately.”

  “Oh?” He looked interested. “In what way?”

  She felt her face grow warm. “That doesn’t matter. The real issue here is whether I stay in Lufthania and honor my biological family or if I should go back to the United States where my real family is.”