Page 33 of Baby Daddy Protector

I knocked on the thick oak door before entering. Greaves sat behind his massive desk, looking far too blob-like for my comfort. He rose and gave a slight bow, his jowls quivering with the effort. “Your highness. Always a pleasure to see you again, Princess Esme. I was over to see your father earlier today. Such a shame. Such a fine, fine man to be laid so low by that awful disease.”

“Yes, thank you.” I took a seat before his desk and crossed my legs at the ankle, glad I’d worn black pants and a sweater that day to fend off the chilly air in his office. “I’d like an update on the state of affairs here in the country. With the holidays approaching, I’m sure the staff has been busy.”

Greaves sat back and clasped his hands atop his bulbous stomach. He was dressed, as always, in a tailor-made, three-piece gray suit. Tailor-made, I guessed, because it would be difficult to find clothing to fit his bulk in regular stores.

“I’m afraid, your highness, that the news isn’t good.” Greaves cleared his throat, frowning. “You see, we’ve received a number of threats regarding the Christmas Markets. So far, we’ve been able to keep the threats quiet and out of the hands of the media, but the reports have been alarming enough for parliament to seriously consider cancelling the markets for the remainder of this season.”

“What? No. The Christmas Markets are a Prylean tradition.” I leaned forward slightly. “They can’t be cancelled. Tourists love them. People travel from all over the world to shop the booths.” I shook my head. “No. We can’t cancel them. That will only let whoever’s making these threats feel more powerful. We need to keep the Christmas Markets open, especially this year, with the king so ill. Pull extra security from the palace, but they must remain open and on schedule.”

“But your highness, I’m not sure that’s wise. We don’t want to compromise your safety either, with you carrying the royal child.”

“I’m fine.” I crossed my arms. “Seriously. Don’t worry about me. I have Z to guard me.”

“Z?” Greaves raised an interested brow. “Yes, I suppose congratulations are in order on your upcoming nuptials. Though I must say, it was never my expectation that things should go beyond the professional with you two when I assigned him as head of your security team in the States.”

“Yes, well.” I gave a dismissive wave. The last thing I wanted to discuss right now was my complicated relationship with my fiancé. “Like I said, don’t worry about protecting me. Worry about keeping this country functioning. I’ll handle the rest. Our people have been through enough with the king’s sickness and the threat of Silvester taking over everything. We need to boost morale, and the Christmas Markets are the way to do it. Now, what else do I need to know about?”

Three hours later, I left with a head full of facts and figures and a stomach growling for lunch. I’d been so engrossed in talking to Greaves I’d missed my usual mid-morning snack and was now starving. I made my way past the empty formal dining room and down the hall to the kitchens. When I’d been little, I’d eaten lunch in here with the servants while my parents tended to their royal duties. It had been fun to spend time with the household staff who treated me more like a regular person and less like a princess.

I stood on the threshold of the large, stone kitchen. The cook, a portly woman in her mid-sixties named Annie, clapped when she saw me in the doorway.

“Esme!” Annie rushed over and pulled me into a bear hug. “How are you, my girl? We missed you while you were gone. How’s your father? So sad what he’s going through. Lost my dear husband to cancer a year ago, so I know how hard it is to go through.” Annie pulled back and looked me up and down. “And I saw on TV you’ve got a bun in the oven, too. Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” I greeted the other staff milling about then took a seat at the sturdy butcher-block table to one side of the room. “I was hoping maybe to get a bite to eat?”

“Anything for you, my dear.” Annie smiled. “How about some nice soup and a couple slices of homemade bread?”

“Sounds divine.”

“Es?” A familiar deep voice said from across the room. It was Z. “I’ve been looking all over for you. You missed your mid-morning snack, and you went off without any crackers or ginger candy, and I know how you get and—”

He stopped halfway across the kitchen as he realized all the staff were listening in. Z halted, a hint of color flushing his tanned cheeks. “Uh, sorry. Am I not supposed to be in here?”

Annie walked over to him, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she went, surveying him up and down. “So you’re the man who’s going to marry our princess, eh?”

Z’s gaze darted from Annie to me, then back again, his expression wary. “Yes.”

“Do you love her?” Annie asked, forward as always.

“Uh… well.” The flush deepened in his handsome face, and he seemed flustered for the first time I could remember. Damn if it didn’t make him even more adorable and endearing. He cleared his throat nervously, then nodded. “Of course. How could you not love Es?”

Annie narrowed her gaze on him, silent for a long moment, then broke into a wide grin. “How, indeed. I’m Annie. Pleasure to meet you, my boy. Have a seat. I was just getting our princess some lunch. Would you like soup and bread, too?”

Z seemed shocked by the offer for a moment, then smiled back at her. “I’d love some, thanks.”

“Sure thing.” Annie patted him on the back. “Have a seat.”

He settled in across from me, looking far too gorgeous for my own good in a pale-blue turtleneck sweater that set off his beautiful eyes, and a pair of camel-colored trousers that cupped his taut butt to perfection. I shook off my heated thoughts and focused on the tabletop instead.

“How’d your meeting with Greaves go?” Z asked.

“He said parliament was considering canceling the Christmas Markets this year due to security threats. I told him no, not under any circumstances.”

“I’m not surprised they wanted to cancel them,” Z sat back, his tone annoyed. “You should have let them.”

“What? Why?” Now it was my turn to feel annoyed. “Those markets are a huge draw for tourism here in Prylea. Not to mention, they bolster the national morale. Giving into threats will play right into the fears Silvester has been manipulating all over the country.”

“Yes, but you have no idea how dismal the current state of national security is here, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and lowering his voice. “While you spent your morning with Greaves, I spent mine in the security offices going over all the stuff I missed while we were gone. Seriously, Es. The military here is spread way too thin, no thanks to your cousin, who has spent the last two months working with parliament to slowly dismantle everything your father tried to build up. When you left to go to the States, along with your father, that left Silvester as the highest-ranking member of the royal family in residence in Prylea. Most of the power and authority stayed in your hands, but he could still take certain, limited actions that directly relate to national security as long as he got approval from the parliament.”

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