Benedikt opened his mouth to challenge her but stopped. He more than most knew his father had kept secrets, some shameful. But he couldn’t let himself be distracted.

‘How do I even know you’re Annalena, granddaughter of the Grand Duchess of Edelforst?’

She looked the right age and he knew the real Annalena was blonde. He’d seen her once as a child on a rare visit to the province.

That had to be it. She was some crazy impostor. But why pursue a lie that would be easily found out?

‘You can call my grandmother, and there are people here in the capital who can vouch for me. Meanwhile…’

She dug out a small card and passed it to him. It was a driver’s licence, worn around the edges. It looked real. The only anomaly was that the woman in the photo wore a plain white T-shirt and her hair in a high ponytail.

He stared. It was the same woman but the difference from the one sitting here was enormous. The picture showed someone relaxed and half smiling, with none of the buttoned-up tension emanating from the figure before him.

He put the licence and papers on the seat beside him. They’d be investigated fully.

‘It’s still not true. You can’t be Queen.’

One eyebrow rose mockingly. ‘You should know Prinzenberg was one of the first European countries to acknowledge the rights of female heirs. Males don’t take precedence when it comes to inheriting the throne.’

He stopped her with a slicing gesture. ‘I’m fully aware of our constitutional history. It was an essential part of my educationas son of the King.’

Her lips curled in a grimace, the first evidence of unfettered emotion he’d seen in her. Her tone was heavy with repugnance. ‘He might have ruled but that doesn’t mean he had the right to.’

Deep inside, Benedikt felt the truth of that. Not because he had doubts about his father’s right to inherit the throne, but because the country had deserved someone far better. Someone who cared more for it than themselves.

He breathed out slowly. That was his mission, and his obligation, to redress his father’s wrongs and be the head of state his country needed. He hoped he was up to it, that his father’s taint didn’t undermine him.

‘Of course he had the right. He was the previous King’s closest surviving relative.’

She merely shook her head as if the nonsense on the papers she’d brought were true.

He’d never been gullible, even as a child. Growing up with a father like his had ensured that. Karl had been cold, emotionally abusive and regularly twisted the truth to suit himself.

Benedikt rubbed the back of his neck where tension clamped. The six weeks since his father’s death had been taxing. His schedule was diabolical and he couldn’t waste more time on this.

‘I’m not interested in fairy tales. Iknowthis can’t be true.’

In the afternoon sunlight her braid gleamed like gold as she tilted her head. Far from looking put out, she appeared curious. As if he were an intriguing specimen to be examined. ‘How can you be certain?’

‘Because if your story were true, your mother would have told the old King she was pregnant with his grandchild and secured your place on the throne.’

His guest didn’t look flustered. ‘He didn’t outlive my father for long. The King was already dying when my father was killed in that accident.’

Impatience made Benedikt grit his teeth. ‘That doesn’t explain why she didn’t come forward. Why hide you? Why keep the supposed wedding secret?’ He rose. He’d had enough. ‘Your story doesn’t hold water. I don’t know what your game is but you didn’t think it through.’

He grabbed the papers, about to turn away.

‘They kept the wedding secret because the old King was pressuring my father into an arranged marriage. He was gravely ill and wanted his son married before he died. He’d chosen someone but Christian, my father, couldn’t marry her because he was in love with my mother.’

‘Fairy tales,’ Benedikt repeated. ‘That’s all you offer me.’

‘It’s true!’

She shot to her feet, eyes ablaze, and Benedikt found himself snared by the emotion he read there. It punctured his estimate of her as coolly conniving. She looked full of passion.

His pulse kicked.

‘The King was worried about the country’s finances and wanted him to marry the daughter of an American billionaire. Someone with plenty of money to invest in Prinzenberg.’