Protecting the Princess. Rachelle McCalla
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“I’ve not heard a motive, and no one has claimed responsibility yet.” Albert pointed to a small television set in the corner of the kitchen that was broadcasting news updates with the volume turned low. “I don’t know what will happen, or what will become of the Royal House of Lydia.”
“What about the two of you? Headed back to the U.S.?” Kirk’s parents were both American citizens. His mother had been best friends with Queen Elaine when they were both girls, growing up in a small town near Atlanta, Georgia. When Elaine had married then-Prince Philip, Albert and Theresa had come to Lydia to work for her. They’d remained close friends with the royal family, and Theresa was still best friends with Queen Elaine. But given the circumstances and their known allegiance to the royal family, they would likely be safer back in America.
At his suggestion, his parents exchanged worried looks.
“We’ve talked about it,” Albert admitted.
But Theresa shook her head. “There’s no threat to our lives. As long as the royal family remains unaccounted for, I feel we have to stay. What if one of them tries to contact us? I came to Lydia to help my best friend. I can’t run out on her in her time of need.”
Kirk appreciated his parents’ devotion. He felt the same way. “Still, I think you should keep a low profile. Everyone knows how close you are to the king and queen.”
“Many people are loyal to the king and queen. If the insurgents go after all of them, there will be no one left in Lydia,” Albert predicted.
“Good point.” Kirk appreciated his father’s attitude. He stood and paced the room nervously. Much as he would have loved to learn more about what was going on, he’d promised Stasi he’d be back. And no one else knew where she was. If anything happened to him, she’d be on her own.
“I should get back to Stasi. We’ll need food for a few days. And, Mother—” he looked up at the woman who, as the household manager for the entire palace, had access to nearly every room in the castle “—I don’t suppose there would be any way you could discreetly pack a bag for Stasi? Some of her own clothes and shoes? She’s in an evening gown right now.”
Theresa’s eyes twinkled. “I always keep bags packed and waiting for every member of the royal family—for various occasions and seasons, no less. Give me five minutes.”
While she was gone, Kirk and his father put together a bag of food supplies, a radio and plenty of batteries. Kirk was familiar with what Thad had left stowed on the island, which left more room for essentials.
“You’ll want this.” Albert handed him a first-aid kit.
“We’ve got Thad’s.”
“And it’s six years old.” Albert shoved the first-aid kit into Kirk’s hands. “This one is fresh.”
When Kirk reached for the kit, his father hesitated before handing it over. “You’re alone with the princess?”
Kirk immediately knew what his father was thinking. The princess was far out of his league. She was to be given white-gloved treatment, always. He’d had lectures about it all the time as a child, especially as Stasi had blossomed into a lovely young woman. “She’s safe in my care,” he reassured his father, “from any threat.”
“She’s royal. You’re not.” His father handed him the kit with warning in his voice. “Never forget that.”
By the time Kirk had the bag ready, his mother was back. “There’s an unnatural amount of commotion over there, especially when you consider no one’s home.”
“Did you learn anything new?” Kirk asked.
Theresa shook her head adamantly. “I got out of there in a hurry. Didn’t like the feel of it. You’ve got to be careful.” His mother handed over the bag. “You don’t know what you’re up against. Things might not go the way you want them to.”
Kirk backed away toward the door, giving each of his parents a hug on his way out. “Lydia is a Christian nation,” he reminded them. “God will watch over us.”
“Depending on who has risen to power,” his father warned him, “Lydia may not be a Christian nation anymore.”
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