to it—how to prevent trouble. I’ll train you, of course, but the job is yours and you won’t disappoint me.”
“But—”
“I’m sure your close friendship with Kristof will be advantageous.”
Hardly. Her panic rose at the thought of Kris learning the truth. None of the brothers knew she was from Kiraly. That she’d deceived them. Monitored them. Reported their routines, plans and personalities back to Philip. They didn’t realize she knew that beneath their cowboy swagger, their hard-muscled bodies coursed with royal blood.
She swallowed down a dry throat and said, “But we can’t stay friends.”
Not once Kris became an active Prince of Kiraly.
“Things will change.” Philip’s voice betrayed his exhaustion. “You’ll return here immediately. I’m organizing a private plane. You have two hours to get to the airport.”
“Cut me a break. I just got back to town,” she said as her alarm swelled. “From a job you sent me on.”
“Yes. I assumed that was why I’ve been unable to reach you.”
She froze. She closed her eyes against a wave of dismay. “How long ago did it happen?”
“Yesterday.” Loss hung in his long pause. “Erik has already informed us of his intention to abdicate. Markus will bring the official letter. The boys are coming, Frankie. Together. They leave Montana tomorrow morning.”
Thudding her head back against the trunk, she squinted at the spring sky. Spinning. The world was spinning so fast it was going to haul her guts up. “This is insane.”
“I’ve thought that myself.”
It was the thread of outrage in his unsteady response that finally wove her back to the start of their conversation. Horror met her there. “Philip,” she said. “Which balcony?”
“Second floor, west wing.”
“But . . . that was new, wasn’t it? Part of the renovations?”
“Yes.”
Her blood chilled as she breathed, “That shouldn’t have collapsed.”
“No, it shouldn’t have,” he answered just as softly.
“Shit.” She pushed away from the tree, but didn’t know whether to continue to the ranch or double back into town. This was too much. “What the hell happened?”
“If only I knew.” Grief made him sound older than his sixty-five years. “I don’t have the resilience to find out. I can’t bear it. The authorities have already declared it a tragic accident—the result of construction shortcuts taken to meet the tight schedule and remain within budget. In a sense, I want that to be true, but . . . could you look into it?”
Dazed, she lowered the phone, shaking her head. Could she?
The ranch in the distance had become the closest thing to a home she’d ever known. The log and stone homestead, the surrounding meadows and mountains, and the three young men who’d ushered her into their midst. Identical, yet as comparable as three glasses of amber alcohol—each packing a wildly different experience. Mark was a reliable farmhouse ale, Kris a searing Fireball whiskey, and Tommy—well, he was a lone ranger’s drink—undeterminable, but with a potency that could strip the enamel off unwary teeth.
Frankie had scarcely admitted it to herself, but recently, she’d toyed with the idea of staying for good. Leaving Philip’s employ and living out her life in Sage Haven—allowing herself to accept the dream it offered.
Now that dream was impossible. Due to a tragic architectural failing or something more sinister, she couldn’t begin to guess. But having her first real shot at happiness go crashing down along with the balcony?
That pissed her off enough that she wanted to know who to blame.
Balling her free hand, she raised the phone to her ear. “We’ll keep this quiet,” she said, and set off along the track toward Sage Haven. “Mourn it as an accident and hope that’s exactly what it was.”
And if it wasn’t?
Protectiveness hit her bloodstream, pumping purpose through her body. If it wasn’t, then the murder of a royal family should be all the motivation she needed to track down the person responsible. But honestly—no one would escape punishment for messing up the lives of her boys.
“What will you tell the princes?” Philip asked.
Finally, she was thinking fast. “Nothing. They’ve got enough to worry about.”
“But for their safety—”
“They’ll get their own guards.” No one would touch them. Not on her watch. “Two each, at all times. More if they leave the grounds.”
“Guards are already stationed throughout the palace.” Philip sounded unsure. “It’s never been protocol to shadow our royal family down every hall.”
She glanced back at the ranch and its inherent safety. “These princes don’t know that.”
There was a beat of silence. “I take it you’ve accepted the promotion?”