“Each of us processes trauma differently, and I’ve had more than my share of trouble in the last few days. I guess my hindbrain was done helping and went on automatic freak out.”
“Except the press didn’t know you were sitting down because you couldn’t stand up anymore, and they jumped to conclusions,” Zar added.
“We can fix this by telling them the truth.”
But everyone was shaking their heads.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because we’ve already lied by omission. We let them think we were in a relationship before this picture was taken. If we try to change the story, they’ll either be angry about the lying we’ve already done or assume we’re lying now. Either way, we look bad in the eyes of the public.”
“You could just avoid answering the question of whether or not you’re engaged, and answer it when you’re ready?” Gabby suggested.
“Yes, that’s one possible course of action,” the queen murmured.
“Did you have any luck in finding your family?” Brigette asked.
“No, the librarian said that my grandmother may have given me an assumed surname. I guess it was common practice for resistance fighters to do that to protect their families from reprisals.”
“Anna,” Brigette said. “I do have someone who wants to talk to you about the Lerasian resistance during the war.”
“Your grandmother?”
“Yes, she doesn’t talk about it much these days, since we’ve heard all her stories, but she sure did some dangerous stuff back then.”
“I would love to talk with her.”
“Is now good?” Gabby asked. “She’s taking tea in her sitting room, and she’s got her scrapbook ready.”
Anna looked to him. “Would you mind?” she asked the question softly.
He leaned down to kiss her chastely on the lips. “Not at all. I suspect I’ll be a while deciding our next steps in regard to the terrorists and our fake relationship. I’ll fetch you when I’m done.”
“Sounds good, see you later.” Anna smiled then walked out with Gabby. The door closed behind them.
“Zar,” his mother said in a tone gone glacial. “What on earth do you think you’re doing with that young woman? You shouldn’t toy with her affections or your own this way.”
“What way is that, Mother?”
“The relationship you have isn’t real.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Zar,” his mother began, her tone hostile.
“Mother,” he interrupted. “Anna is the most courageous, intelligent, kind, selfless, and beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
Silence followed his statement.
“She was closer to the train in Lyon than I was when it blew up. The explosion knocked her flat on her back, but she got up and ran—ran—toward the fire because she knew there would be injured people she could help.
“Because she and I had been in the news the night before the second train left Lyon, one of the conductors came to ask her help when Luke broke his arm. I went with her. Had I not gone with her, I would have been killed in the explosion in the tunnel. As it was, she worked to save as many people as she could until help arrived. Then went into surgery with Luke. The doctors at the hospital tell me he would have died without her intervention in the tunnel and her skill in the operating room.
“Believe me, by the end of this week, our relationship will be fact, not fake.”
“What if she turns you down?” Brigette asked.
“Then I get turned down and I’ll mope for the rest of my life.”