CHAPTER 20 #2
That man had been real. I'd known it then, and I knew it now watching him murmur to his pregnant horse with the same gentle attention he'd given me when I'd been terrified of falling off Celeste.
"You're staring," Archie said without looking up.
"I'm observing."
"Observing what?"
"You. Being you instead of performing."
He glanced at me over his shoulder. "I'm always me."
"No, you're not. Most of the time you're Prince Archibald, formal, careful, politically aware of every word and gesture." I gestured to him and the horse. "This is different."
"This is horses. Horses don't care about protocol."
"Neither did Peter."
The name hung in the air between us. He went very still, his hand resting on Azzurra's side.
"Peter was always me," he said finally. "Just the parts I don't get to show very often."
"Why not?"
"Because princes don't get to just be people who like horses and making pasta and having honest conversations.
We're symbols and political tools and carefully managed public images.
" He returned his attention to Azzurra, running his hands over her swollen belly.
"Peter gets to exist here, in the stables. Everywhere else, I'm Archibald."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is." He smiled at the horse. "Which is why I spend so much time here. Azzurra doesn't care if I use the right fork or say the diplomatically appropriate thing. She just cares if I show up and treat her well."
I watched him check the mare's legs, her hooves, the way he moved with practiced confidence born from years of caring for these animals.
"You really love her," I said.
"I've had her since she was three years old.
Trained her myself, competed with her, spent hours just riding through the countryside when palace life got to be too much.
" He pressed his forehead to her neck. "She's the one thing in my life that's completely mine.
No political complications, no duty obligations.
Just a girl who likes carrots and hates having her ears touched. "
"Sounds like a healthy relationship."
"Healthier than most of mine, certainly." He glanced at me. "Want to meet her properly?"
"I don't know much about horses."
"You rode Celeste. You know enough."
He opened the stall door, and I stepped inside. Azzurra watched me with dark, intelligent eyes, ears forward with curiosity rather than suspicion.
"Hand flat," Archie instructed. "Let her smell you."
I held out my hand, and the mare snuffled at it, her breath warm and soft. Up close, she was beautiful, dappled grey coat, gentle eyes, the kind of presence that made you want to be calm around her.
"She likes you," Archie said.
"How can you tell?"
"She hasn't bitten you yet. That's Azzurra's version of approval."
I laughed and stroked her neck, surprised by how soft her coat was. "When will she foal?"
"Any time now. The vet checks her daily, and we have a camera in the stall so staff can monitor her overnight." He moved to stand beside me, both of us petting the mare. "I want to be here when it happens. I know that's probably impractical given everything else going on."
"It's not impractical. It's important to you."
"Most people would say the investigation is more important."
"Most people don't understand that sometimes you need something normal and real to hold onto when everything else is chaos."
He looked at me then, really looked at me, and something shifted in his expression. "You do understand."
"I make coffee for a living. Made coffee, past tense.
But when people would come in stressed or upset or having the worst day, sometimes the most helpful thing I could do was just make their drink exactly how they liked it and chat with them about normal things.
Weather, sports, weekend plans. Just... being human for a minute. "
"I miss that about you," he said.
"Miss what?"
"The way you see people instead of positions.
The way you treat everyone the same whether they're royalty or staff.
" He was standing very close now, his hand resting on Azzurra beside mine.
"Most people can't do that. They get lost in the hierarchy of who's important and who's not. But you just see people."
"That's just being a decent human."
"It's rarer than you think."
Our hands were almost touching on the horse's neck. I could feel the warmth of him beside me, could smell his cologne mixed with the scent of hay and horses.
This was dangerous. We were supposed to be colleagues investigating a sabotage plot, not standing in a stable having moments that felt too much like the early days when I'd thought Peter was just a nice guy who worked at the palace.
"We should get back," I said, not moving.
"Probably."
"The investigation, though..."
"Will still be there in ten minutes."
Azzurra shifted, and we both had to step back. The spell broke, and we were just two people in a stable instead of whatever complicated thing we'd been becoming.
Archie gave the mare one final pat. "I'll come check on you tonight, beautiful girl. Try to wait for me before you have this baby, okay?"
Azzurra snorted and returned to her hay, clearly unimpressed by human concerns.
We walked back to the palace in silence. The break had helped, I felt clearer, less frustrated with the dead ends of the investigation. But I also felt more confused about Archie, about the man who could be Prince Archibald one minute and Peter the next.
About which version I was supposed to stay angry at.
We were crossing through the main entrance hall when my phone rang. Captain Steiner.
"Your Highness, we have a situation."
Oh no. "What kind of situation?"
"You need to come to your quarters. Now."
"I'm not in my quarters. I'm in the Blue Wing."
"Not the guest quarters. Your original rooms in the east wing."
I looked at Archie, whose expression had gone grim. "We're on our way."
Roberto met us outside my destroyed suite with an expression that suggested whatever we were about to see was bad.
"How bad?" Archie asked.
"Worse than yesterday. They came back."
They'd come back. While we were investigating, while I was meeting Azzurra, while we'd been trying to figure out who was behind all this, they'd come back to the scene of their first crime and made it worse.
The sitting room was somehow more destroyed than before. The forensics team had cleaned up yesterday, documented everything, taken away the damaged furniture. Someone had returned and spray-painted the walls.
The same message from before, LEAVE WHILE YOU CAN, but bigger this time. Angrier. And on the opposite wall, a new addition: YOU DON'T BELONG HERE.
"When did this happen?" Archie demanded.
"Sometime in the last two hours," Roberto said. "We had security on this wing, but they were pulled to deal with a disturbance in the garden."
"What kind of disturbance?"
"Someone called in a threat. Turned out to be false, but it tied up resources for forty minutes."
"Long enough for someone to do this." I stared at the spray-painted walls. "It's coordinated. The distraction, the vandalism. Someone planned this."
"Someone who knew you weren't here," Archie added. "Who knew you'd be somewhere else this morning."
I thought about that. Very few people knew where I'd been. Archie, Roberto, Captain Steiner. And whoever might have been watching us leave the palace.
"Security footage?" I asked.
"Being reviewed now," Roberto said. "But whoever did this knew where the cameras were. They stayed in blind spots."
"Professional," Archie said, his voice hard.
"Or someone with intimate knowledge of palace security systems."
Which brought us back to our suspect list. Viktor, Petra, Professore Benedetti, Queen Isabelle, all people who would know the security layout, who would know how to create a distraction and slip in unseen.
"Your Highness," Captain Steiner appeared in the doorway. "I've arranged for your belongings to be moved to different quarters. The west wing has a suite that's more secure."
"I'm staying in Prince Archibald's guest room," I said, before I could overthink it.
Everyone's eyebrows rose slightly.
"For security purposes," I added quickly. "His apartments have better protection, and I'm already set up there."
"Of course, Your Highness." Captain Steiner's expression remained unreadable. "I'll have the rest of your things transferred there."
After she left, Roberto pulled Archie aside for a low conversation about security. I stood in my vandalized sitting room, staring at the spray-painted accusations.
YOU DON'T BELONG HERE.
Maybe they were right. Maybe I didn't belong in this world of politics and people who destroyed rooms to make a point.
Maybe I should just go back to Oregon, get an annulment or whatever legal process would free me from this nightmare, and let them find their Russian princess to complete their alliance.
But the thought of Viktor's satisfied smile when I left made my blood boil.
And the thought of never seeing Archie again, of walking away from whatever complicated, messy thing was developing between us, made something in my chest ache in a way I didn't want to examine too closely.
"Betty." Archie's hand on my arm pulled me from my thoughts. "Let's get out of here. There's nothing more we can do today."
"Someone really wants me gone."
"Someone really wants the alliance to fail. You're just the obstacle in their way."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"It's supposed to help you understand that this isn't personal. It's political. You represent Western alliance, stability, resistance to Russian influence. Whoever is doing this wants to replace all of that with something else."
"The lovely Princess Anastasia."
"Probably." He guided me toward the door. "Come on. We'll regroup tomorrow with fresh eyes."