Page 43 of Crowned For The King's Secret

There was a commotion outside his bedroom. What the hell? The door was flung open. Victoria flinched in his arms.

‘What is it?’ Her voice was confused, soft with sleep.

‘Your Majesty.’ The light flicked on. He squinted against the harsh brightness after the peaceful dark. His personal-protection officer stood just inside the bedroom, directing the rest of a team of bodyguards who moved through, securing the space. Some of their weapons were drawn. Sandro pulled the sheets over Victoria’s body, his heart pounding as she huddled into him.

‘Our apologies, Sir.’ His head of security walked in, all business and readiness, armed as well. ‘There are intruders in the palace—’

‘Oh, my God.’ Victoria sat up, clutching the sheet to her even as she started to get out of the bed. ‘Where’s Nic?’

‘Lady Astill, please stay where you are.’ The head of security’s voice was firm, inviting no argument.

Sandro felt impotent in this bed, naked. He needed to leave, to be theKing, and yet he couldn’t. The security team continued doing their job. Moving onto the terrace and securing the perimeter of the space. It was a drill he knew well, as it was a practised one. He wrapped Victoria in his arms.

‘Cara, we need to listen.’

‘Sandro, I need Nic.’ Victoria’s voice trembled and cracked. ‘To make sure he’s okay.’

She clung to him. Hair mussed. Grazes on the side of her neck where his stubble had scraped across her skin.

‘Trust my team. Isadora will protect him. She’s trained for this.’

Tears welled in Victoria’s eyes. He knew his security would have done everything to ensure Nic’s safety. He was the country’s heir. Obviously, Victoria didn’t have that same level of assurance because she hadn’t lived with the constant threat. The need to trust that there were people who would give their lives to save yours. He couldn’t bear her fear. Every shuddering breath stabbed at him. A deep, unrelenting pain Sandro wanted tofix.But there was no way to fix this, not now.

‘We need to get dressed,’ he said. Victoria looked as if she would climb out of her skin, and he needed tomove.There were a few nods, murmurs of assent. Some people melted from the room. Others turned their backs. Victoria leapt up and began to scramble for her clothes.

‘It’ll be okay,’ he said as she dressed. The words carried no emotion behind them. Meaningless platitudes. He was helpless in this situation, the way he had been years before, exiled in a foreign country. His parents dead...

He couldn’t think of that right now. Sandro grabbed some clothes as well, suit trousers, shirt, the costume of a king.

‘I—I was here when I should have been with him. Nicci must be terrified.’

The fury that welled inside Sandro threatened to spill over. Having an intruder in the palace was bad enough. Any risk to Victoria or Nic caused red to colour the edges of his vision. A rage he hadn’t felt since he first flew back into Santa Fiorina after his exile. Saw what had been done tohiscountry,hispeople.

There was nothing he could do here. No way he could rid himself of the fear that roared through him at the thought of any harm coming to his son and Victoria at the hands of his cousin. Once more, he was a straw man waiting on others to secure his safety. Like his exile. He’d been kept safe in a foreign land, not shedding blood with the people of Santa Fiorina, fighting only with words and diplomacy. Being returned supposedly victorious when he’d wonnothing. Others sacrificing themselves for his family’s name.

‘What’s taking so long? Nic’s only down the hall.’

Victoria’s voice may have been the barest of whispers, but he heard it like a shout of accusation. Her face pale and waxy. Looking as if she wanted to fall. He strode to her and wrapped her in his arms. Held her tight as her body shuddered with tears and terror. All the while he knew he’d done this to her. He’d failed to protect them as he’d promised to do. Allowing someone to get into the palace. No matter what anyone said, he accepted this as a personal responsibility.

‘I’ll find out. My security will know.’

Victoria moved out of his arms and wiped at her tear-streaked face, her eyes red. She sat on the end of the bed as if her legs wouldn’t carry her any longer.

‘Please tell me he’s okay.’

He stalked from the bedroom to the lounge, his head of security barking orders into a mouthpiece. The man didn’t stop or acknowledge his king. Sandro knew better than to interfere. These people’s role was to protect the royal family. Anything else, including deference to his position, was incidental. It was humbling.

The man finished what he was doing, turned.

‘Tell me what’s happening,’ Sandro commanded, the only control he had over this whole blighted situation.

‘Intruders breached the walled garden, breaking in through the northern door. It appears the lock was faulty although it may have been interfered with.’

‘How many?’

His head of security saidintruders, which meant more than one person. Not some opportunistic act, but planned. A chill flashed through him, sharp and cold as an ice storm.

‘Two small teams. Both armed. We intercepted one in the grounds. Another managed to enter the palace. Both had mud maps. Your suite. Nicolai’s. Both marked.’

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