LITMIR.BIZ

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walked away from Tinny as if he didn’t matter.”

      Zale’s jaw flexed, his expression taut. “Fine. I’ll call Mrs. Sivka and let her know we’re taking morning tea with Tinny.”

      “Thank you.”

      Three hours later they were sitting down in Tinny’s suite at a small table in the living room for morning tea. The table was covered with a cheerful yellow check cloth and a bowl of daisies sat in the middle. Teacups and plates were at each of the three places and Tinny rocked excitedly back and forth in his chair, delighted that he was entertaining.

      Mrs. Sivka poured the tea for them, and presented Tinny with his hot chocolate as Hannah entertained Prince Tinny with stories as she’d promised, telling him about Texas and all the animals on their ranch. He liked that they had horses and cows and chickens. He was really excited she’d had a goat.

      Hannah loved Tinny’s laughter and the way he clapped his hands with excitement. But all too soon teatime was over and they were having to say their goodbyes.

      Tinny gave her a big hug and kiss. Hannah hugged him back. And then she was holding Mrs. Sivka’s plump, cool hands in her own.

      Mrs. Sivka’s blue eyes watered, she squeezed Hannah’s hands tightly. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

      Hannah gulped a breath, fighting tears of her own. “Oh, Mrs. Sivka, you can’t call me that anymore. I’m just plain Hannah Smith.”

      “Never plain.” Mrs. Sivka’s hands squeezed hers. “Take care of yourself.”

      “I will,” Hannah assured her. “And be happy.”

      Hannah’s smile faltered. “I’ll try.”

      Then Zale’s hand was at her elbow and he was ushering her out the door and down the grand staircase to the waiting limousine. The drive to the royal airport was a quiet one and it was even more strained as he escorted her onto his private plane.

      Zale could hardly look at Hannah as she sat down in the jet’s leather armchair, his handsome features hard, expression savage. “And I’m just supposed to leave you like this?” he demanded, voice harsh.

      She’d made up her mind in the limousine she wouldn’t cry as they parted, had told herself she’d keep it together for both their sake, and she was determined to keep her vow. “Yes.”

      His jaw clamped tight. His cheekbones jutted. “And what am I supposed to say now?”

      A lump filled her throat, and a terrible tenderness ached in her chest. Her eyes drank him in, trying to remember every feature, every expression. How she loved this man. How she’d miss him.

      Her nails dug into her palms. Her eyes were scalding hot. “You say goodbye.” “No.”

      She would not cry. Not cry. Not, would not. Rising, she caught his handsome face in her hands, looked into his eyes then kissed him gently, tenderly. “Goodbye, Zale. It’s time to let me go.”

      Zale was in hell. A hell unlike any other hell he’d ever known, and he’d known hell before. He’d suffered terribly when Stephen was fighting leukemia. He’d raged when his brother later died. He’d mourned his parents after their plane crashed and cried in private for Tinny who missed his mother every night, not understanding why she wouldn’t come home. But none of that sorrow, none of that loss, was like the pain he felt now because Hannah had given him something no one else had—peace. With Hannah he felt complete. Strong. Whole.

      He hadn’t realized until she’d arrived in Raguva how empty he’d been, how hollow he’d felt.

      Yes, he’d known duty and he’d fulfilled his responsibilities but he’d been like a man sleepwalking. He’d been numb, just going through the motions. And then she arrived and brought him to life.

      And now she was gone. His woman. And she’d taken his heart.

      For two endless weeks Zale barely spoke, moving silently from bedchamber to office, to parapet and back again.

      He ate little. Slept less. He wouldn’t even allow Krek to attend to him. When he wasn’t working he ran. He ran early in the morning, in the middle of the day and late into the night. And when he couldn’t run anymore, he stretched out on his bed and prayed.

      He prayed as he hadn’t prayed in years. Not since Stephen was ill and Zale wanted him cured.

      Zale’s prayers hadn’t been heard then but he prayed anyway now.

      He loved her. He needed her. Fiery, passionate, fierce, funny Hannah.

      She was flawed and stubborn, impetuous and emotional and he’d never loved anyone more.

      His eyes stung and he rubbed at them. He hadn’t cried since he’d had to comfort Tinny after their parents funeral, and he wouldn’t cry now, but his heart was breaking and there was nothing he could do about it. Life was life and it’d dealt him a bitter hand.

      It had been nearly a month since Hannah had gone and Zale had run himself to the point of exhaustion. But the exhaustion failed to dull the pain. His heart hurt—burned—constantly and he couldn’t understand how that part of him could hurt so much when the rest of him felt dead.

      He was standing at his window in his study, staring out at nothing when a knock sounded on his door.

      The door opened and Mrs. Sivka entered looking so much frailer than she had a month ago. It was as if she’d aged ten years in thirty days. “Forgive me for intruding, Your Majesty, but I insisted that your staff let me in to see you.”

      Zale had been pacing his office, unable to sit, unable to rest and he walked away from her, to the window overlooking the garden. He kept his back to her so she couldn’t see his face. “Is Tinny not well?”

      “The prince is fine. He’s with Mrs. Daum right now. But I need a word with you.”

      “What is it?”

      She was silent so long that he glanced over his shoulder. “Mrs. Sivka?” he prompted impatiently.

      Anxiety was etched into her features and worry in her eyes. “There is something I’ve never told anyone. Something I swore I would never tell. It was a blood oath. One of those promises you cannot break, for any reason, ever. And I haven’t.”

      Zale sighed, irritated. He was tired, not in the mood for this. The past month had been absolute hell and the last thing he wanted was to play word games. “And yet you feel the need to break it now?” he drawled sarcastically.

      “Yes.”

      He turned around, folded his arms across his chest. “Why?” “It might change everything.”

      No, he really couldn’t deal with her now, not if she insisted on talking about secrets and blood vows and other silly games. “What would?”

      “The truth.”

      “Mrs. Sivka, please.”

      Her round face creased. “There were two babies, Your Majesty. Two baby girls, not one. Princess Emmeline and the infant princess, Jacqueline.”

      Zale blinked. He’d heard what she said but it hadn’t fully registered. “What?”

      “Princess Emmeline was one of two. She had a twin sister.” “That’s nonsense. Absolute fiction. King William would have told me if Emmeline had a twin—” “He didn’t know. No one knew—”

      “Listen to yourself, Mrs. Sivka! I’m not Tinny. Not interested in make-believe.”

      “This is true. I was there. I was there for Princess Jacqueline’s delivery at Marmont, the royal family’s hunting lodge in northern Brabant. Her Royal Highness’s nanny had been my best friend since childhood, and she’d asked me to be there, too, at the delivery. I was to take care of the newborn for the first few days while she tended to Princess Jacqueline.”

      Mrs.

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