Page 7 of Royal Secret

Realizing that makes my ears hot. Part of why I pursued this career was because I expected it to impress my father. Now here he is, asking me to please not work too hard!

“Your Highness,” my assistant interrupts, her voice cutting through the memory like a blade. I look up, my eyes narrowing in focus. “We’ve received intel of a potential threat at the border.”

“Threat?” I echo, the word pulling me back into the now, where my role as head of the security department demands my attention. “What kind of threat?”

“Descendant of an old rival family,” Lena clarifies, placing a file on my desk.

The Jäger name emblazoned on the folder strikes a chord, an echo of family feuds long buried in history. “Courtney Fuller,” she continues. “Granddaughter of Anna Jäger.”

“Jäger,” I murmur. It’s a name that belongs to gossip and cautionary tales, not to modern-day Bergovia.

I flip open the dossier, and the names of the past stare back at me from sheets of paper — history, potentially walking among us once more.

“Thank you,” I tell Lena, even as my mind races. The Jägers were more than just rivals; they were the antithesis of everything our family stood for. A challenge I didn’t expect — but one I cannot ignore.

“Keep this quiet,” I command, already piecing together a plan.

This could be the very opportunity I’ve been searching for. If I can handle this situation, it would prove to my parents that I have what it takes to lead, to wear the crown that eludes me.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Lena assures me, backing out of the room with a nod of understanding.

Alone again, I lean back in my chair, the weight of decades-old conflict settling on my shoulders as I contemplate my next move. The Jägers may have faded into the annals of history, but their descendant’s unexpected arrival could very well reignite a dormant rivalry.

Or it could be the key to my ascension.

I shuffle through the photographs again, my gaze lingering on the image of Courtney Fuller. It’s disconcerting, the way my pulse quickens. She’s beautiful — startlingly so — with a cascade of chestnut hair and eyes that seem to hold a hint of mischief even in a still picture.

I’m taken aback by my own reaction; it’s not like me to get sidetracked by something as trivial as beauty, especially when there’s a potential threat involved.

Shaking my head, I gather the dossier and call in the top members of my team in order to gather their insights onto the situation. A few minutes later and we’re seated around the table in the corner of my office, the view of the park behind my staff.

“Her itinerary isn’t clear,” one of my best intel collectors says. “But she landed this morning from Texas.”

The agent pauses, awaiting my command, but I’m already piecing together my approach.

“Keep monitoring her communications,” I instruct, my mind racing ahead. This is a delicate situation, one that requires subtlety and discretion, and while my team is perfectly capable of taking care of it, I’m well aware that this could be the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.

“I will trail her,” I announce.

The room is quiet for a long moment.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to handle this, sir?” another voice chimes in, tentative but laced with concern.

I look up from the dossier, resolve hardening in my chest. “I’ve got this. We can’t afford to spook her or draw attention.”

My siblings, always so eager to outshine each other, would give anything for this sort of intelligence. But they won’t get it. Not this time.

“Your Highness, if she is indeed here to stir trouble?—”

“She won’t succeed.” I cut off the sentence before it can take flight. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Their nods are stiff, formal, but I barely notice. My focus narrows to the woman in the photograph, to the challenge she represents, to the opportunity she unwittingly brings with her arrival.

“Keep me updated on her movements,” I say as I stand, the burden of responsibility settling comfortably on my shoulders. “I want to know where she is at all times. I’ll make sure to be one step ahead of her.”

“Understood, Your Highness,” comes the chorus of replies.

Alone once more, I let myself contemplate the full scope of what handling this properly could mean. If I can neutralize the Jäger threat personally, it will solidify my position as the rightful heir in the eyes of my parents. The crown seems almost within reach — a tantalizing promise of power and validation.

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