Princess Ever After

FIFTEEN





Tanner shoved his way through the crowd of photographers and reporters toward the Mercedes as Dickenson pulled around.


One guess. The same leak as the first wave. Seamus Fitzsimmons. Tanner would have to organize security straightaway.

“Stand aside, please. Stand aside.”

But the press swarmed like bees to honey. Cameras flashed, videoed, robbing Tanner, Hessenberg, and the rest of the world from a formal, organized introduction of the princess.

Blasted, loose-lipped, tongue-wagging insider. Seriously, if he found out who specifically leaked her arrival . . .

“Pardon me.” Tanner reached for the back door, then noticed Regina was sitting up front, next to Dickenson. Why was he not surprised?

Louis trailed behind him, along with another bloke, Elton, the front lobby man, trying to clear a path for Regina to the door.

“Stand aside, the lot of you. Move back.” Elton had a commanding presence, for which Tanner was grateful.

When Regina stepped out, it was all over. The shouting commenced as cameras flashed and bodies crushed against bodies.

“Are you the princess?”

“Look here, Princess.”

“What’s your name?”

“Can I get a look this way, Princess?”

“Burkhardt, let us talk to her. We’ve a right to know.”

Tanner ignored the demand and all but shoved Regina through the manor door. Taking her hand, he raced her up the stairs, the mob stalled a few moments by Louis and Elton. But they were no match for that frenzy.

“Here. This way.” Tanner shot down a second-floor corridor, the rhythm of his heels against the marble in harmony with Regina’s.

He found a room at the end of the hall, ducked inside, and slammed the door.

“Oh my gosh, that was scary.” Regina collapsed onto a long wooden pew, its old joints creaking in protest. “I’m shaking.” She held up her hand and in the soft, colored light filtering through the round, stained-glass window in the front of the room, Tanner could see her tremors.

“I’m so sorry.” Tanner paced down the center aisle, raking back his hair, not caring if he messed up his morning gel job. “Someone . . . someone leaked you were here. There are limited options as to who.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.” Under her mop of red hair, she narrowed her gaze at him. “Did you?”

“Of course not.” Tanner pulled out his phone, reading the screen. “The king is here, along with the prime minister and the archbishop.” He pressed the phone to his ear. “Louis, we’re on the second floor—” Tanner glanced around, engaging the room for the first time. “In the chapel. What’s going on with the press? Still here. Arrange for the meeting to be here, in the chapel. The press won’t look for us here.”

Ha!

“And call Seamus’s office. Let him know.”

He rang off and sat in the pew in front of Regina. “How are you?”

“Other than being chased by a mob? I’m shaking. You?”

“Other than nearly getting my princess,”—the words left his mouth and settled in his heart in a strange yet comfortable way—“crushed by a mob, I’m shaking.”

She smiled and swooped her bangs out of her eyes. “What’s this about the king and everyone?” Her expression, her gesture, coated the feelings stirring in his chest, beckoning his emotional doors to swing open.

“I told you last night. You’re meeting the king this morning, along with the prime minister, governor of Hessenberg, and the archbishop.”

“Excuse me, you never said anything like that to me.”

“Regina, I did, in the limo, when we were driving up to Meadowbluff.”

“Did I respond? Did I say, ‘Oh, the king? Wow, I’ve never met a king before! Do I curtsy?’ ” She smacked his arm. “’Cause that’s what I would’ve said.”

“No, you don’t curtsy. He’s coming to see you. He will bow to you.”

“To me?” Now she paced down the center aisle, her hands tucked into the hip pockets of her jeans.

Tanner glanced away, walking to the door, searching for the light panel, anything to get his mind off her . . . well, various assets and charms. He came to work this morning determined to hold his heart and affections at a professional distance.

But the moment he saw her, he wanted to escape his duties and spend the day with her, alone, discovering her, pondering how well she fit a pair of jeans.

Give a poor chap a chance.

“What is this room?” She stood by the altar, inhaling. “It has a sweet presence and aroma.”

“It’s the chapel. The royal family held services here when they were in the city. As a matter of fact,”—Tanner walked toward her—“this is the Oath of the Throne chapel. Every ascending royal took their oath here upon the death of their predecessor.”

He’d not thought of that when he randomly directed her down the second-floor corridor.

“Are services still held here?”

“It’s a government building.” Tanner shook his head. “So no. Maybe at Christmas there might be a service but—”

“It feels ‘full’ in here. Does that make sense?” Regina studied the high, flat ceiling with its carved inlays.

“Oddly, it does.” Tanner grew up with that feeling. In his father’s parish. As if God himself filled the room.

“This is incredible. I see all of this and think, ‘This was my family.’ ”

She was winning him. Over and over again. Her willingness to investigate with an open heart. But he would remain guarded.

If Regina knew the real Tanner Burkhardt—which she never would—she’d not want him. No woman would want him and, frankly, half the time he wasn’t sure he wanted himself.

The sooner the king assigned her a more appropriate mentor, the better. Off he’d go back to his safe, albeit stark world.

“So, Tanner, what’s this meeting about?” Regina made her way back to him, her voice low, concern in her countenance.

“As I said, you’re meeting with King Nathaniel II, the prime minister, the governor of Hessenberg, and the archbishop.” At last he found a switch panel by the door and powered up the lights. “We’ll discuss our next steps.”

A patterned, gentle glow spilled down the side walls from the iron and glass sconces. Working another switch turned on the light fixtures above the altar.

“I don’t know, Tanner.” Regina squeezed her fingers in her hand and walked the length of the aisle. “I–I feel . . . like . . .”—she shook out her hands, then gathered her hair away from her face—“like a cow trying to run with thoroughbreds.”

He made his way toward her. “You’re far from a cow, trust me. I’m sorry If I miscommunicated about this meeting, but, Regina, you must start thinking of yourself as worthy. The Princess of Hessenberg.”

“Easy for you to say, Tanner.” She mimicked his accent, trying to smile and lighten the tension in the room.

He debated. Should he tell her Seamus was the one who filed the petition? She was already so nervous. On the other hand, being armed with the truth would serve her well. “Regina, you should know—”

“Hello, Tanner?” The chapel door creaked open and Louis entered, leading the king, prime minister, and archbishop into the room.

Tanner bowed to Nathaniel, then introduced Regina. The king shook her hand, bowing slightly, so very real yet so elegantly proper. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“You too.” Her voice wavered a little and she offered the king a tender curtsy.

Tanner smiled. She was going to be a stellar princess. Next he introduced Regina to the prime minister, Henry Montgomery. Then the archbishop, Miles Burkhardt.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Regina glanced at Tanner, then at the archbishop. “Burkhardt? Any relation or just a coincidence?”

“Some believe there are no coincidences.” Dad shook her hand and Tanner formed his hand into a fist, tensing. Why does he have to be so . . . obtuse? “It’s an honor to greet you face-to-face, Your Majesty. Welcome to Hessenberg.”

“Please, call me Reggie. Or Regina.” She smiled as she shook his hand. “I feel very welcomed.” Then she shot Tanner a look. Whaaat?

Oh, blimey. Out with it. “The archbishop is my father, Regina.”

Dad locked his hands behind his back with a nod at Tanner. “Quite right.”

And the man wondered why Tanner never came round. Or why during the toughest years of his life, he sailed the turbulent sea alone.

Regina twisted her hands together, holding on to her smile, clearly unsure where to go with Dad’s curt, formal “Quite right.”

“Gentlemen, Your Majesty,”—he nodded to the king—“I apologize for moving the meeting to the chapel, but the media frenzy caught us off guard.”

“Do you know how they found out she was here?” Nathaniel asked. “Another leak about the princess in less than a week?”

“I do not, sir.” Tanner hated the defeated sound of his answer. “But I will investigate. Only the five of us plus the governor knew she was coming.”

“And our aides.” Nathaniel unbuttoned his suit coat and took a seat in the nearest pew. “I suspect a pretty pound could be earned by the one who alerted the press of the princess’s arrival and whereabouts.”


“It’s a sad day, Nathaniel,” Henry said, “when we have to suspect our staff.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Speaking of, will the governor be joining us?”

“Yes, sir,” Tanner said. “Louis is contacting his office.”

“Regina,” Nathaniel said as he turned to her, “welcome. I do apologize for the mess with the press.” The king leaned back, putting everyone in the room at ease. “We thought a formal presser later in the week or early next would be the best course to introduce you to the people, but, well, welcome to that side of your new world.” He smiled.

“It’s all . . .” She remained standing, shifting from side to side, slipping her hands in her hip pockets, then folding her arms over her chest, and generally looking as if she might make for the exit. When she met Tanner’s gaze, he smiled encouragement and nodded for her to sit. “It is mildly overwhelming.”

“I understand. My fiancée, Susanna, is new to the royal life and also finds it very overwhelming. She sends her regards, by the way, and offers to do all she can to assist you.”

“How nice. Thank her for me.” Regina swiped her hands down the sides of her jeans and sat in the pew ahead of Nathaniel, one foot tucked under her. “So, what do you all need from me?”

Straight to the point. No mussing about. If Tanner knew anything about Regina Beswick, she waded right into every situation, sorting it out as she went.

He could learn from her.

“We’d like to talk about the entail. Has Tanner explained our situation?”

“Yes. It’s all a bit unbelievable. My gram never said a word to me about any of this.”

“She did of sorts.” Tanner moved to stand beside Reggie. “Seems she painted a fairy tale and told the story of a princess who needed to return home.”

“A fairy tale?” Nathaniel said.

“She . . . she wrote and illustrated a fairy tale about a princess,” Regina said, “and gave it to me for my sixth birthday.”

“Fascinating,” Henry said. “But she never openly spoke to you of your heritage?”

Reggie shook her head. “And I wish I knew why.”

“The key question we must sort out now is, are you willing to take the Oath of the Throne? Be the true princess and receive your inheritance as granted by the entail?” Nathaniel spoke in a low, soft voice, asking gentle, probing questions. “How do you view living four thousand miles from home? Of being a government official? Of being a royal? Of your life being onstage for all to see? To a life devoted to serving the kingdom and its people?”

Gentle, yes, but honest. Uncloaked.

Regina answered with equal honesty. “I find it unsettling, a bit terrifying, and a little bit like a movie I want to watch to the end to see how it turns out.” She looked up at Tanner. Is that right? He smiled and nodded. Be your true self.

“A week ago I was a simple Southern girl dealing in cars, eating pizza on Friday nights with the car heads. Now I’m heir to a kingdom? A royal?” She stood, pressing her hand to her forehead. The men stood with her. “And I know you’re under the gun with this entail and now, I hear, a lawsuit, but I’m not sure what I want to do. I’m sorry . . .” She peered at the king with a straight, steady gaze. “I can’t promise you more than here I am, checking out the country and people, testing the waters.”

“Regina, please, we understand. Yes, we are under the gun, as you say, and we requested you come to Hessenberg as quickly as possible. But the EU court has not yet agreed to hear the case. You have a few extra days to ponder your future.”

“I’m not sure I can decide my future in a few extra days.” She stood stock still, trembling. “Politics and me . . . not so much.”

Nathaniel laughed. “I’m not sure any of us really love it.”

“Hold on there, Your Majesty.” Henry stepped forward. “Some of us find it quite rewarding.” He bowed toward Regina. “Miss Beswick, we will do all in our power to help you. You won’t be alone. But I find the best part of me, of life, often reveals itself when I’m faced with severe complications and trials and am forced to leave my own comforts.”

“Well, y’all shot my comforts to pieces. I’ve no grid for this. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to find normalcy or comfort.” She articulated her concern with passion. “I really appreciate that y’all will support me and I believe you . . . but, wow. I mean, maybe this EU court petition will end all of our questions, right? I won’t have to sign the entail, be the princess, and, you know . . . own a country.”

“Regina, let’s square away two things,” Nathaniel said. “You are the Princess of Hessenberg no matter what transpires with the court petition, which we believe will fail, as have all the others. We’d like you to take the Oath of the Throne, set you in officially as the ruling princess with all full and legal rights. And yes, as the Grand Duchess you’ll own the land. In Hessenberg, the land is administered by the government.”

“What will the people say? I mean, I feel like I’m sneaking in behind their backs. Won’t they resent this foreign chick moving into the palace? ‘Hey, y’all, what’s up?’ ”

Regina’s exaggerated Southern accent made them all chuckle.

“Might I offer advice?” Dad said, tall and straight in his tailored suit and priest collar. Tanner cleared his throat and stepped aside as his dad faced Regina. “It’s not what man thinks or believes, Regina. Whether in Florida working on cars or in Hessenberg working from the royal palace, it’s what God believes. ‘As for me and my house,’ said the warrior Joshua, ‘we will serve the Lord.’ ”

Come on, Dad, save your sermon for Sunday. You’re making her nervous. Would he ever understand how he intimidated people?

“That’s just it.” Her eyes glistened and emotion threaded her words. “I don’t know what God is saying.”

“Then keep seeking him, but do not fear the people. Fear the Lord. King Saul feared the people and ruined his reign and his name. But David, he—”

“Found strength in the Lord.”

Dad nodded. “Ah, you know the Scriptures.”

“Born and raised in a house of faith.”

Dad smiled. “Then trust the one you’ve heard about all those years, Regina. We are nearest to him when we are in the wilderness.”

“Ho boy.” Regina exhaled, giving Dad, the archbishop, a weak smile. “That’s what I’m afraid of, sir.”

“You have our support and prayers.” He took a card from his pocket. “If you need to, ring me. Anytime.”

Tanner turned his back, pressing his fist to his lips, containing a brutish response. Where was this kind of tenderness when he had required it?

From the back of the chapel, the door swung open and Seamus Fitzsimmons waltzed in with his chin high and his chest puffed out.

“You’re late,” Henry said. It wasn’t a secret that Brighton’s prime minister didn’t care for the Hessenberg governor, but he was an appointment by Nathaniel’s father, King Leopold, so Henry honored Seamus out of respect for the deceased king.

“Quite right, Henry, and my apologies to the king for being tardy.” He came around the last pew with an arrogant air that unsettled Tanner, then stopped in front of Regina. “You must be our American princess.” He bowed, clapping his heels together and offering his hand. “Governor Seamus Fitzsimmons, at your service.”

Tanner exhaled, hands on his hips, and pinched his words against his lips. Seamus mocked her with the exaggerated bow and heel clap. This was not his old mentor, the man who offered him a way out of his mess with Trude and coached him along. This was a man seized by the prospect of power.

“Nice to meet you.” Regina shook his hand, then withdrew, tucking her fingers into her hip pockets again. By now Tanner realized it was her go-to stance when she was nervous.

“Have you been informed?” Seamus postured and strutted, smoothing his mustache while retrieving his pipe—his handcrafted briarwood binky. “Nothing personal, Regina. You seem to be a sweet girl, but I must do what’s best for my country.”

“See here, Seamus,” Nathaniel said. “We’re not here—”

“Pardone, Your Majesty?” Seamus pulled a folded document from his breast pocket. “Miss Beswick, you may well know I’ve filed a petition for Hessenberg to be granted sovereign state status without, well, a sovereign. I’m most sincere when I say I do not believe a descendant of His Royal Highness, Prince Francis, Grand Duke of Hessenberg, is worthy of inheriting the kingdom. He was a coward and traitor. We should be able to forge ahead as a nation without Brighton and, my dear, without you.”

“For all that’s sacred, Seamus,” Henry said, “don’t put this on her now.”

“I’m afraid the entail has already done that for me.”

“You know as well as any of us, Prince Francis was trying to save a country ill prepared for war. Hessenberg had no military to speak of in 1914. If it weren’t for Francis’s foresight, Hessenberg might not have existed at all after the first war.”


“It’s one thing, Prime Minister, to find a solution to a war one is not prepared to fight, but it’s another thing entirely to surrender one nation to another without having a single shot fired or one drop of blood spilled.”

“I find that rather optimal, don’t you?” Henry removed his mask of cordiality, revealing his inner disdain for the governor.

“I find it treasonous. Francis refused the counsel of his lords, and when he signed over his lands and the government to King Nathaniel I, he signed over the lands of his lords. He betrayed us all.”

“Enough, Seamus.” Nathaniel reached for the document waving from the governor’s hand. “You’ve obviously come here to say something. Out with it.”

“Quite right, Your Majesty. I came here to enact Vox Vocis Canonicus.”

Tanner made a face. “The authority canon?”

Henry moved around Dad to read the document Seamus handed Nathaniel. “Seamus, what are you plotting, my man?”

Tanner stepped closer to Regina, who seemed to be shrinking into herself by the moment. “Quite the show Seamus puts on, eh?” he said with a low laugh for her ears only.

“Why’s he doing this?” she asked, eyes wide, her heart in her words. “Plotting against me.”

“I’ve no doubt he’ll tell us.” Tanner tucked in a bit closer, enough for her to feel his warmth but not touch her.

Seamus’s aura darkened as he ended all pretense. “It’s all in the document, but in summation, if this lass signs the entail, Hessenberg law reverts back to the constitution and laws held in this land in 1914. Our old constitution. Which contains an authority canon. After all, it’s what Francis wanted, wasn’t it? For Hessenberg to go back to her old ways and once again be a land of lords, of which his heir would reign supreme.”

“I see.” Henry tapped Seamus in the chest with his finger. “How do you plan to enact the lord’s authority canon? There are no lords in Hessenberg. Their houses have died out. Lands sold to the highest bidder.”

“Just as there is one descendant from the prince, there is one descendant from the House of Lords. I am that man. My great-grandfather was Patrick Fitzsimmons, Earl of Estes. The land was sold during the Great Depression before World War II. I think you’re familiar with Estes Estates, are you not, Tanner? Anyway, I am the great-grandson of the Earl of Estes.”

He shot Regina an exacting, slicing stare.

“If you are the legitimate heir of Prince Francis, then I, as the legitimate heir of the Earl of Estes, as well as the governor of Hessenberg, enact the authority canon and ask that you stand down as Hereditary Duchess due to your lack of leadership and experience, and your foreign birth. You’ve no right here. I will file a motion declaring you incompetent and inept on behalf of the Hessen people, and once Hessenberg is freed from Brighton, by the entail or the courts, I’ll have you charged as an enemy of the state if you remain on Hessenberg soil.”

Pandemonium erupted, everyone talking at once, as the men rushed forward in one accord.

“Enemy of the state? Now see here, Seamus—”

“What’s the meaning of this? You can’t stand here and accuse her . . . charging her as an enemy of the state.”

Tanner argued right alongside the king and prime minister. Even Dad brought up several good points. Their voices blended, rising and falling in a medley of anger, determination, and reason.

A shrill whistle pierced the room. The men turned at once to see Regina standing on a pew, her fingers on her lips. She regarded each one while slowly lowering her arms.

“Let me get this straight. If I sign the entail, Seamus here will charge me as an unfit ruler. Got to tell you, I agree with you on that one. But an enemy of the state? Yet if I don’t sign the entail, then what? Hessenberg ceases to be a nation?”

“But the court will rule in our favor,” Seamus said, sure and pompous. “Granting us the right to become our own sovereign state without you, dear princess. Either way, as Prince Francis’s heir, you are an enemy of the state.”

The voices roared again. Seamus had lost his proper mind.

“Seamus,” Henry said, “you have no precedent for any of this.”

The tension among the men settled in Tanner’s gut, and he wondered how he had ever admired Seamus Fitzsimmons.

“Let’s just say I’ve gained a few allies myself. Germany is backing our petition in exchange for forgiving their debt to us . . . for seizing our bank accounts in 1914.”

“This is outlandish,” Henry said. “You cannot negotiate with Germany outside my authority. I’ll have you arrested for treason and insubordination.”

“I refer you to Brighton law PR-859—”

Tanner stepped back. This confrontation did not need him. He needed to get Regina out of here.

But when he turned to get her, the place where she’d stood was vacant, and the chapel door stood wide open.