Page 41 of His Runaway Princess

Least favorite food.

He learned a lot more about her than she probably realized. In telling stories about why she liked something or why she lacked a fondness for something else, he began to see more of the real Amalia underneath the princess facade.

By the time they finished eating, they’d lapsed into silence.

“Too bad there’s no sunset.” The princess sighed as she put her dishes back on the tray and stood.

Ryker followed suit. Once inside, with the door closed, she put the cart outside the main entrance and leaned back against the door.

“Now what?” she asked him. “How do we decide something like this? If it was only legal in one or even two of the countries, we could probably pretend it never happened.”

“But it’s all three countries.”

“Exactly.” She pushed off the door and walked back toward the rest of the apartment.

Trailing behind her, Ryker wondered what was going through her head.

She went into her suite. This time, the princess finished showing him around. He glanced in closets filled with clothes of all kinds, including ball gowns.

Still not as much as Princess Genevieve, but his protectee - former protectee? - was a bit of a fashionista.

“You don’t seem surprised by the amount of clothes.” She turned to study him with those incredible green eyes.

He grinned. “You forget who I work for.”

A clouded expression crossed her face then disappeared before he could be certain. “Right. Genevieve does like her sparkles.”

“Definitely.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Could you give me fashion advice if I needed it? Help me decide between one dress or another for reasons beyond ‘it looks nice’ or something?”

Ryker winced a little bit. “Maybe? I could probably give advice based on practicality, like recommending a dress with a fuller skirt for a time when there’s going to be a lot of stairs or not to wear something with a train when it’s raining. Things of that nature, probably.” He shook his head. “Why to wear one designer and not another? Or what color to wear so you don’t clash with the decor? That’s unlikely.”

She stared at him for another few seconds and nodded before walking to the last door they hadn’t gone through yet.

When he walked through, what Ryker saw stopped him short.

It held an ornate crib and other items clearly meant for a baby. For half a second, he wondered if the princess needed to tell him something, but then his analytical side kicked in. It didn’t take long for him to scan the room and realize it had to have been decorated quite some time ago.

The dust in the room didn’t match the age of the furnishings, most of which appeared to be brand new. The rest were probably heirlooms or at least antiques.

His gaze came to rest on the princess as she watched him carefully. Ryker waited for her to explain when she decided it was time.

“This was for Ginny,” she finally told him.

“Your sister?” He didn’t know why he framed it as a question. She knew he knew the identity of the lost princess.

“Half-sister,” Princess Amalia corrected. “My father adopted her. We’ve had some good talks this weekend, but biologically, she’s my half-sister. My mum had this room made up during her pregnancy. They didn’t decide that she would need to be raised elsewhere until shortly before Ginny’s birth.”

The princess walked over to a small table and picked up a picture frame. Ryker couldn’t see the picture.

Finally, she turned it around. A very young, very pregnant, Princess Betlinde stood in nearly the same spot Princess Amalia did.

But a somber look graced the other princess’s face.

“I’ve been told this picture was taken not long after they made the decision to send Ginny away. Mum knew her oldest child would never use this room. Instead, she closed the door, and no one came in for a long time. I know it’s been cleaned, but I don’t know how long it’s been since the last time. Not since I moved in.”

He continued to wait for her to go on.

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