Page 60 of A Fierce Princess

Uncle Eddie stands.

“Logan,” he starts, “I would very much like to speak with you in private. If that’s alright with you?”

Logan nods.

“You may use the drawing room,” my father says to them.

“Thank you, Michael,” Uncle Eddie says as he follows Logan out of the room.

I stand there, unsure what to do, nervously shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

“I think you should sit down, Anna. There are things we all need to discuss,” my father says as he nods at the chair I had left earlier.

I sit back down and look at him.

“We are not sure how the signal came from that house. We both have sent special ops teams there to investigate. While you and Logan were…gone, I called my contact at Interpol, Jack Ross. He’s very good at tracking underworld criminal activity. He’s formerly with the MI-6 and U.S. intelligence but he’s currently overseeing an international crimes unit for Interpol. I think he’ll be quite resourceful in helping us stop this,” my father says.

“But M is here, in Norddale,” I say to him.

“I’ve alerted my intelligence minister, and he is putting together a special operation to track down M, alive, and bring him in for questioning,” my father says.

“You may have stopped a murder, Anna. But now we need the professionals involved,” he says.

I nod, although deep down I know that I’m not going to give up my own search for who’s behind all of this.

“Marcus, I’ll need you to handle setting up a meeting with my cabinet tomorrow,” my father says. “Via our secured video,” he adds. “We will all be staying here until further notice. I had planned on letting you all go in a few days, but not when there’s an assassin on the loose and not when we haven’t figured out who’s responsible for Hans’s jet.”

“Do we have more information on the jet?” Chris asks.

“My investigation team believes there was a breach in airport security and an unidentified person gained access to the hangar approximately two hours before you left. They are still working on face recognition as the individual was wearing a baseball cap, most of his face was obscured. The video equipment that was not working appears to have been tampered with at some point earlier that day. It was not due to power outages as they originally told me, in fact, the power outages may have been an act of sabotage as well. That’s all I know right now,” my father says. He runs his hands through his hair again, and I want to tell him to stop or he’ll be bald by the end of the week.

“Shannon, Mia, and Paolo, you can go ahead and cancel the children’s events for the next five days. Marcus will take care of mine,” he adds. “Victor, make sure all the security is coordinated with King Edvard’s. Consult with his chief of security, Fredrik, first. Have his secretary, Gregor, debriefed,” he adds looking at Victor Wolf, his head of security. Victor gives me a look that tells me he is not pleased with my hacker antics and less pleased with the security threat that he clearly believes I have caused. I shrink under his stare. Victor is a tall imposing-looking man. I’ve never been a huge fan of his, but my father believes he is the best. I’ve never felt shame about my double life like I have these past few days. It never dawned on me the danger it posed until it posed danger. I feel idiotic for playing spy, more or less, although I trust my hacker skills more than I trust Victor with our lives. So, I keep my head held high as he exits the room.

Everyone else stands and begins to filter out of the study, but I stay. Finally, it’s just my father and me.

“What is it, Anna?” he asks me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to him.

He stands and walks around the desk. He pulls me up into his arms and hugs me in a very unroyal-like show of affection.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t live your life. I know it’s not easy being a royal, and I know you have expectations cast upon you that are unbearable at times, but you’re strong and you will do amazing things as a princess. I promise. But please, no more secret agent princess, OK?” he asks. He pulls back and looks down at me. “I don’t think I could survive knowing that you were constantly putting yourself in jeopardy.”

“Yes, Father,” I say, my fingers crossing behind my back as I do so, a silly childhood superstition that I still haven’t let go of as an adult.

I walk to the door and then turn back. “Sten,” I say slowly, looking at him.

“We’re investigating all possibilities,” he answers, his voice takes on a serious tone.

“Is he…there?” I ask.

“He was,” my father states. “His plane took off earlier.”

“To where?” I ask.

“Here,” he says.

My eyes widen. Could it be that Sten is trying to kill his nephew?

---