Stolen Kiss From a Prince. Teresa Carpenter
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her Princess’s sanity. They were in the bedroom of her suite. Katrina sat on her bed, fighting for composure as she marshaled arguments against Bernadette’s calm insistence. “The press is all over this story. It is the perfect time for someone to come forward and cause irreparable damage, not only to the house of Carrere but to the Kardanians, as well.”
“It is the perfect opportunity for you to learn you have nothing to fear. We worry about you, Katrina. You cannot hide in the palace forever, my dear.” Bernadette folded a lemon-yellow sweater and placed it in the open suitcase. “Young Samson needs your help. It is obvious he has bonded with you. Of course we remain hopeful, but it is likely the poor child will need a strong advocate in the following days.”
“It is not worth the risk. His family—”
“His family needs you.” Bernadette came to the bed and took Katrina’s hands in her own. “King Lowell is rumored to be in ill health and the queen mother is in her eighties. If Prince Donal has perished in the crash, Julian will be engulfed with running the country. I fear they may lose sight of Sammy in their grief.”
“The staff—” Katrina quickly changed the words at the disappointment in Bernadette’s eyes “—are no substitute for family.”
“No. And it may fall to you to remind them all of that. Though losing a child, a grandchild is terrible, they still have Sammy, and he is reason to persevere. Dear, I know your concern is not just for yourself.”
“I would never do anything to hurt Jean Claude.” Katrina rushed to assure her friend and mentor, the slip of the night before haunting her.
“I know.” Bernadette squeezed her fingers. “He knows. We believe in you. It is time for you to believe in yourself. Now—” Bernadette rose and went back to the wardrobe “—let us finish packing. Julian is not a patient man.”
No, patience did not describe the visiting Prince. Which only made the challenge ahead of Katrina harder. But she dared not argue further. Even she recognized there was a limit to testing a royal’s goodwill.
Even her? Especially her!
She’d never been good at decorum. She’d had too much freedom running wild about the palace as a child. Jean Claude adored his goddaughter, so she was given undo leeway. She learned her lesson three years ago when the misuse of that freedom and a lack of good judgment resulted in hurting those she loved most.
Licking her wounds, she’d retreated to the place she felt safest in the world. The palace. More specifically the palace nursery, where she tried to be a good example of decorum to the next generation.
Her stomach twisted at the possibility of bringing shame to her home once again. No matter what Bernadette said, Katrina knew she’d been a disappointment to Jean Claude, worse to her own father. She stiffened her spine. Not this time, she promised them in her heart. She would go with Prince Julian to help Sammy, and she’d mind her manners, follow protocol and be a model of perfect decorum.
If she stuck to the background, there was no reason anyone should notice her.
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