CHAPTER 19 #2
"She might not have a choice,” Archie's voice was quiet. "If the marriage appears to have failed, if you leave, if the American alliance looks unstable... there are people who could push for alternatives. Especially if those alternatives seem more viable."
I thought about Viktor's careful sympathy. His gentle suggestions that perhaps I wasn't adequately prepared. His concern about whether the marriage had been "wise."
"You think Viktor is behind this?"
"I've had doubts about Viktor since the day he arrived with those photos. I pulled his dossier that same afternoon." He met my eyes. "Roberto couldn't tell me whose side he's actually on. That's not a good sign for someone who's supposed to be protecting you."
"But the Grand Duchess sent him here to help me."
"Which gives him the power to manipulate information." Archie's voice was hard.
"Why would he want to make me look bad?”
"He might be trying to weaken both Valdoria and Solmaria by putting in someone who her could control better.” Archie looked down at the tablet. "I can't prove it's him yet. But the pattern is there."
The car slowed, and I realized we were approaching the palace gates. Through the tinted windows, I could see camera flashes, could hear the muted roar of voices.
"They're here too," I said.
"Of course they are. Someone made sure of it." Archie's voice was bitter. "But at least here we have actual security instead of hotel staff trying their best."
The gates opened, and we drove through into the relative safety of the palace grounds. The cameras couldn't reach us here, couldn't photograph through the ancient walls and careful landscaping.
But I could still feel them, pressing in from all sides.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"Now you decide what you want to do." Archie turned to face me. "You can go back to America. Get away from all of this. I won't fight you on it, won't try to stop you. You'd be well within your rights after everything that's happened."
"And if I do, you’ll be forced to marry someone else."
"Probably. But that's not your worry. You didn't ask for any of this. You were lied to, manipulated, and trapped in an arrangement you never truly consented to. If you want out, you deserve out."
The car stopped in front of the main entrance. Through the window, I could see palace staff waiting, Petra, Chef Marcello, even Captain Steiner looking relieved that I'd made it back safely.
"Or?" I asked.
"Or you stay and we figure out who's doing this. Together." He opened the car door. "Not as husband and wife. Not as anything romantic or complicated. Just as two people who both want to stop whoever is trying to destroy this alliance."
I looked at the palace, at the marble columns and ancient stone, at the staff who'd been kind to me, at the life I'd been forced into against my will.
And I thought about Viktor's satisfied smile when I'd told him I was leaving. About Princess Anastasia posing for photographs. About someone carefully orchestrating my public failures so they could position themselves for the next move.
"I'm not letting some Russian puppet take my place," I said.
Archie's expression flickered, surprise, maybe, or relief. "You're staying?"
"I'm staying to fight." I climbed out of the car. "But I need you to be very clear about something."
"Anything."
"I didn't come back for you. I didn't come back because I've forgiven you or because I trust you or because I believe we can fix what's broken between us." I met his eyes. "I came back because I'm not going to let whoever is doing this win. That's all."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because I need separate rooms. Separate lives. I'll do the public appearances because I'm contractually obligated to play princess forever. But privately, we're colleagues. Nothing more."
Something in his expression cracked, but he nodded. "Whatever you need."
"What I need is for you to help me figure out who's sabotaging me. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Then let's get to work."
I walked into the palace with my head high, ignoring the staff's relieved faces and grateful murmurs. Let them think I'd come back because I belonged here. Let Viktor think whatever he wanted.
I knew the truth: I'd come back to fight. And I wasn't leaving until I'd won.
Even if winning meant spending the rest of my life trapped in a palace with a man I couldn't trust.
At least I'd be trapped on my own terms.
Petra intercepted me in the entrance hall. "Your Highness, I've prepared your rooms. I wasn't sure if you'd want the same quarters."
"Different rooms." I didn't look at Archie. "As far from the Prince's apartments as possible.”
"Of course, Your Highness. The Blue Wing has a lovely suite that might suit your needs."
"Perfect."
I followed Petra through corridors I was starting to recognize, past portraits of stern royal ancestors who'd probably never had to deal with sabotage plots and Russian conspiracies.
Or maybe they had. Maybe this kind of political manipulation was just part of the job description I'd never received.
The Blue Wing suite was beautiful, sitting room, bedroom, private bath, and enough space that I wouldn't feel like the walls were closing in.
The windows overlooked the gardens instead of the harbor, and I could see the herb garden where I'd overheard Viktor and Petra discussing nursery preparations.
That felt like years ago instead of hours.
"Will you need anything else tonight, Your Highness?"
"No. Thank you, Petra."
She hesitated at the door. "Your Highness, if I may say, we're glad you came back. The staff, I mean. We were worried."
"Were you?" I turned to face her. "Even though everyone knew I'd been lied to about the marriage being permanent and no one bothered to mention it?"
She flinched. "That wasn't our place, Your Highness. I'm sorry. I should have found a way to tell you."
"You're right. It wasn't your place. It was Archie's place. Or the Grand Duchess's place. Or anyone's place except the lying cowards who let me walk around for weeks thinking I had an escape route."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"But I appreciate you trying to help today. Thank you for that."
She nodded and left, closing the door quietly behind her.
I sank onto the bed and pulled out my phone. Seventeen missed calls from Archie. Twelve texts. Three voicemails I hadn't listened to.
And one message from a number I didn't recognize: Welcome back, Your Highness. I look forward to continuing our important work together. - VB
Viktor.
I stared at the message, at his casual assumption that we were on the same side, that he could congratulate me for returning like he hadn't been orchestrating my destruction.
I deleted it without responding.
My phone buzzed again. This time it was Archie: Thank you for coming back. I know you didn't do it for me. But thank you anyway.
I started to delete that too, then stopped. Archie might be a liar and a manipulator and someone who'd stolen my choices. But he was also the only person besides me who seemed to understand that something bigger than a failed marriage was happening here.
I typed back: We investigate together. That's all this is. Don't mistake cooperation for forgiveness.
His response came immediately: Understood. Meet tomorrow morning? My study, 8 AM? I have more to show you.
Fine.
I set my phone on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling of my new bedroom in my permanent palace in my permanent marriage to a man I couldn't trust.
But at least now I had a purpose beyond surviving. I had someone to fight.
And Betty Montclair, barista, community college student, accidental princess, had never been particularly good at losing fights.
Tomorrow, we'd start figuring out who was trying to destroy me.
And then we'd destroy them first.