Seconds ticked by, feeling like hours. The assassin fell to one knee.
Men and women in blue and badges spilled into the room, their guns trained on everybody, moving or not. It took several minutes to sort out who was going to jail, who was going to the hospital, and who was a royal prince and princess.
After the knife thrower was apprehended, she’d reached for Tatum, who was giving a rundown of the evening to a police officer. Her reach was intercepted by an American man in a blue suit.
“Ma’am, the Secretary of Defense requested I place you on a plane and take you home.”
“I don’t know you.” She eyed his blue uniform with dozens of shiny badges and medals and glanced at the white hat perched on his shaved head.
“Of course. If you’ll wait for just a moment.” The man made a phone call and her phone, still clutched in her hand, rang immediately. She looked from the officer to the phone. He nodded that she should answer it.
“Hello?”
“Please hold for the Secretary of Defense.”
Neese puffed a breath. They wanted her to hold? Now?
“Princess Nyssa?” asked the Secretary. He’d come on the line as quickly as it took to transfer the call.
She steeled her voice. “Yes?”
“I want you to know that we are taking this threat upon your life seriously. Those responsible will be prosecuted. Our prayers are with you and your family during this trying time.”
Nyssa’s grip tightened. “Have you heard from my family? Are they all right?”
“No ma’am. We are working to establish communication with the palace now.”
She nodded. An overwhelming need to see her family, to verify that life still breathed in their breasts, overwhelmed her. “I formally request an escort home, and let me be clear—I mean all the way home. Not to the barricade. Not to the nearest island.”
“Of course. We will do all we can to deliver you safely to your people.”
Her people. Zimrada. Her home. Her family. With a sharp pang, she bit back the tears. No one could replace her parents and brothers, but she had many parents on the island, hundreds of brothers and sisters who would stand with her and bring the men responsible to justice. She had a responsibility. She was the princess. “Thank you, Mr. Secretary.” She hung up the phone. Her time was precious and she needed to hurry.
Her feet couldn’t move away from where Tatum was. He was her match. She was a princess, but she was also a woman whose heart was tied to a man. “Can you get a message to Tatum?”
“Tatum who, ma’am?” asked the officer.
“I—I don’t know. He was the security guard, the one who saved me.”
“What would you like me to tell him?”
A dozen possibilities went through her head, I love you being the strongest and also the scariest. In all the commotion, he’d never had the chance to tell her how he felt and they needed to have a conversation. She couldn’t throw out that heavy of a net without knowing if he would fill it. She’d withheld information from him that she needed to reveal. A blanket I love you would be awkward and inappropriate, considering the situation they had landed in. Besides, they’d faced something hard together and she wasn’t sure how that had all worked out for them. Would it bring them closer or drive them apart?
She couldn’t stand here and wait to find out. As the princess, her island was calling her home.
“Never mind,” she muttered as she picked up her dress and hurried out. Huge tears dripped down her stalwart cheeks. She hadn’t understood what it meant to be a real princess. It wasn’t about getting people to do what you wanted—it was about caring more for people than you did for yourself. With every step, her heart was worn smooth by the ocean of pain washing wave after wave over the top. Her rough edges were being worn away, and it was a beautiful agony.