Page 78 of The Impossible Princess
“Max is home,” I blurt out.
She is composed. “I know.”
“We need to talk about it.”
Caroline stands, dons her suit jacket, and slips a piece of paper into her pocket. She grips me firmly by the arm and marches me across the hall and into the garden. We walk for several minutes, beyond the crunching gravel paths, and onto the turf. Only when no one could possibly hear the sound of our voices does she say, “This conversation is off the record, Your Royal Highness.”
I nod. “The news reports spoke of an accident. I know you know something.”
She shakes her head. “Hardly more than what you read in the news. I wasn’t privy to the original report, only tasked with passing on a portion of it. The wound was described as ten stitches, no concussion.”
“You leaked the incident on behalf of my mother?”
She takes a breath, the only sign that this conversation must be deeply uncomfortable. “Yes.”
“I don’t understand what she gains? What possible reason—?”
She gives a tiny cough. “We’re entering negotiations with the Vorburg trade ambassador, and now the television and newspapers will be full of reports about the Royal Navy of Sondmark rescuing almost a hundred Vorburgian citizens from certain death.”
Of course. “Leaking the rescue to the press had nothing to do with Max?” I ask, crossing my arms. “He’s just a pawn?Vede, after what I put him through, he’s never going to speak to me again.”
Caroline regards me quizzically. “I’ve seen the pictures. I know you and the lieutenant commander spent every minute you could together. Her Majesty had me catalog the entire NewsNook file and cross-catalog the security records at the gatehouse.” At my look, she swallows. “I’m sorry about that.”
Sorry for doing the bidding of the queen? We’re all guilty of it, and only in the last weeks have I begun to carve out room for my own wants and needs. How much harder would it be if I were her employee, depending on a salary to pay my rent and put food on the table? I shake my hand, dismissing the necessity of an apology.
“I think the lieutenant commander will hear you out.”
“You think?” It’s a needy question but I am in a place.
Caroline’s mouth softens. “I think.”
I’m not so sure. I chew my lip absentmindedly, wondering if Max will want to see me at all. I can hope all I want, but I’ve been drifting off to sleep for a month, trying out different configurations of words that will get him to forgive me. I’m going mad and haven’t struck gold yet.
I am poised to return to the palace, but Caroline’s question stops me.
“You really gave him up because she asked you to?”
I inhale. “I know what it sounds like—that I was my mother’s puppet. She has a lot of power compared to most European monarchs, and she’s careful to preserve it. No one in our royal family just marries anyone they like.” Caroline gazes across the park, the breeze stirring the hair at her temple. She doesn’t contradict me.
Instead, she lifts her chin, eyes bright in the morning sun. “I’m going to do something I don’t ever do, ma’am. I’m going to imagine what else was in Her Majesty’s head when she told me to leak that information.”
I recognize this as the sacrifice it is. Caroline’s loyalty to my mother is unwavering.
She takes a deep breath. “I don’t think it was only about the trade deal. We’re going to get favorable terms if your mother has anything to say about it. But she saw the same pictures and footage I saw. I suspect she knows your lieutenant commander is inevitable. So she got ahead of the press and put out a story of how your…”
“NewsNook says ‘partner’.” I give a watery laugh.
She smiles. “Of how your partner is a naval hero.”
“You think she approves?” Dim hope lights in my chest. My mother’s approbation is difficult to earn, and I’m not past wishing for it.
“No.” Caroline’s answer is direct and honest, resisting the impulse to curry favor with me or complain about the unfairness of her employer. “Approval is far beyond my ability to imagine, ma’am. I don’t know if Her Majesty is playing for time or what she thinks of Lieutenant Commander Andersen. I don’t even know what the consequences of pursuing a relationship with him might be. Only you can say whether the sacrifice would be worth it.”
A month ago, I thought it was clear. I had to give up Max to gain more trust and responsibility. My eyes close briefly. I’ve spent an entire month without Max, wanting to climb the walls, reaching for my phone to text him in the middle of the night, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel as I bypass the turn to his cottage. These feelings aren’t going to go away.
My mother asked me to pay a price and I paid it before I understood that the price was far too high—before I knew that I was willing to fight.
“My mother is right about one thing. He is inevitable. I don’t know if I’ve ruined his career or his life, but I’m going to try to get him back,” I say, a surprised laugh breaking from my lips. This is the plan. Without knowing it, this has been my plan for weeks. I can’t go on like this, no matter how much I like my job, if I don’t have Max. My mother wants to be in control, but she’s adapted to my new role in the family. She’ll have to adapt a little further. “I wonder if he’ll make me promise to just be friends.”
