Chapter 29 — Dinner with Royalty
The dinner was supposed to be formal.
That was the first mistake.
Queen Nalia had arranged it partly to celebrate Amara’s return and partly to introduce Alexander properly to the royal family. Ministers, senior officers, advisers, Amara’s brothers and sisters, several cousins, and a collection of foreign officials filled the long dining room.
Alexander wore his finest uniform.
Amara looked magnificent in a dark blue gown with the royal necklace at her throat.
When she entered, Alexander forgot what he had been saying.
Amara noticed.
“Captain?”
“Yes?”
“You're staring.”
“I am observing.”
“Very professionally?”
“Extremely.”
She smiled and took her place beside him.
Across the table, Prince Kellan watched the exchange.
Alexander sighed.
“Your brother is staring at me again.”
“He likes you now.”
“This is how he demonstrates affection?”
“In our family, yes.”
“I suddenly understand you much better.”
Amara kicked him lightly beneath the table.
The evening had begun.
For approximately twenty minutes, everyone behaved perfectly.
Then politics appeared.
A foreign trade representative complained that Azania’s tariffs on imported manufactured goods were excessive.
Minister Okoro answered politely.
King Adisa answered less politely.
Then Amara joined the discussion.
Alexander immediately reached for his wine.
The representative argued that lowering tariffs would encourage foreign investment.
Amara disagreed. “Investment is welcome. Dependence is not.”
The man smiled in the slightly condescending manner Alexander had learned was extremely dangerous around her.
“Your Royal Highness, international commerce is somewhat more complicated than that.”
Alexander closed his eyes.
Kellan whispered from across the table, “He is dead.”
“Almost certainly,” Alexander replied.
Amara smiled beautifully.
“I agree. That is why I spent twelve years studying it.”
The representative’s smile weakened.
She continued, calmly explaining the difference between mutually beneficial investment and economic control. By the time she finished, two ministers were trying not to laugh.
Alexander raised his glass toward her.
Amara noticed.
“Something to add, Captain?”
“Absolutely nothing. I value my life.”
That earned the first major laugh of the evening.
Even Adisa smiled.
The next disaster involved Alexander.
One of Amara’s cousins asked whether American officers were always as stubborn as he was.
“No,” Amara answered before he could. “Alexander is exceptional.”
“Thank you.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“I have learned to accept whatever is available.”
Her younger sister leaned forward.
“Is it true Amara stole your horse?”
Alexander immediately pointed at her.
“Yes.”
“Borrowed,” Amara corrected.
The table erupted.
The story had apparently reached everyone.
Queen Nalia looked at her daughter. “You stole a horse after being rescued?”
“I needed transportation.”
“You could have asked.”
“Alexander would have said no.”
“I did say no,” Alexander replied.
“You see?”
Kellan shook his head. “And you chased her?”
“For several miles.”
“What happened?”
“The horse refused to cross a stream.”
Amara put down her fork.
“We do not need this story again.”
Alexander was enjoying himself now.
“She spent several minutes negotiating with the animal.”
“I was not negotiating.”
“You offered him a carrot.”
“That was motivation.”
King Adisa laughed so suddenly that he nearly spilled his wine.
Amara stared at her father.
“You are supposed to support me.”
“I crossed an ocean to rescue you. Surely that is sufficient support for one year.”
Even Amara laughed.
Then came the wine.
One of Amara’s brothers was describing Alexander’s recent operation with Kellan when a cousin made a joke about the two men becoming friends.
“We are not friends,” Kellan said.
“Absolutely not,” Alexander agreed.
“You drank together yesterday,” Amara pointed out.
“Military discussion.”
“You laughed.”
Kellan looked offended. “I did not.”
Alexander made the mistake of saying, “You did once.”
Kellan turned toward him.
“Captain.”
“Prince.”
Amara watched them.
“You two are ridiculous.”
“We agree about you surprisingly often,” Kellan said.
Amara’s eyes narrowed.
Alexander immediately knew trouble was coming.
“What exactly do you agree about?”
Kellan should have stopped.
He did not.
“That you are difficult.”
Amara turned toward Alexander.
“You said that?”
“I may have used a similar term.”
“When?”
“Privately.”
“With my brother?”
“He was threatening me at the time.”
“I was not threatening you,” Kellan protested.
“You explained what would happen if I hurt your sister.”
“That was a warning.”
“Which is a polite threat.”
The argument spread around the table.
Someone laughed.
Someone else attempted to intervene.
Queen Nalia told Kellan to stop intimidating guests.
Kellan insisted Alexander was no longer technically a guest.
Alexander asked whether that meant he could stop wearing formal clothing.
Amara told him absolutely not.
Then Alexander reached for his glass at exactly the moment Kellan gestured across the table.
Wine spilled directly onto Alexander’s uniform.
Silence.
Everyone stared.
Kellan stared at the red stain.
Alexander looked down.
Amara covered her mouth.
“Do not,” Alexander warned.
That was the wrong thing to say.
Amara began laughing.
At first she tried to control it.
Then Kellan said, with perfect seriousness, “That was accidental.”
Alexander looked at him.
“Of course.”
Amara laughed harder.
Her sister joined her.
Then one cousin.
Within seconds half the table had lost control.
Even Queen Nalia was smiling.
Alexander picked up his napkin.
“I am delighted my suffering has brought two nations together.”
Amara bent forward, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
“Stop talking.”
“I haven't done anything.”
“That makes it worse.”
King Adisa watched his daughter.
For months he had imagined her frightened, imprisoned, perhaps dead.
Now she sat at his table laughing until tears ran down her face.
He looked toward Alexander.
The Captain noticed.
For a moment, the humor between them disappeared.
Adisa gave him a small nod.
Alexander understood.
Whatever happened in the future, he had helped bring this version of Amara home.
Alive.
Defiant.
Laughing.
Dessert arrived after everyone recovered.
The conversation became quieter.
Queen Nalia asked Alexander about his family. Adisa discussed military matters with Kellan. Amara’s sisters continued whispering and occasionally looking toward Alexander.
He leaned toward Amara.
“They are discussing me.”
“Obviously.”
“What are they saying?”
“I could tell you.”
“But?”
“This is much more entertaining.”
Alexander sighed.
“I miss pirates.”
Amara nearly started laughing again.
“Don't,” he warned.
She took a breath.
“I am trying.”
“You are terrible at it.”
“I learned from you.”
Under the table, her hand found his.
Alexander closed his fingers around it.
Nobody commented.
They were wrong.
Queen Nalia noticed.
So did King Adisa.
Kellan noticed too.
He simply decided, for once, not to say anything.
When dinner finally ended, Alexander and Amara walked outside together.
Behind them, the royal family remained loud enough to be heard through the open windows.
Alexander looked back.
“Is every family dinner like this?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Usually they are worse.”
He stopped.
Amara smiled.
“You're joking.”
She kept walking.
“Amara?”
Her laughter returned.
Alexander followed her into the night.
The formal royal dinner had included political arguments, insults, threats disguised as family concern, a stolen-horse story, spilled wine, and almost no dignity whatsoever.
Alexander had expected royalty to be intimidating.
Instead, he had discovered something far more dangerous.
They were beginning to feel like family.