“If you don’t want to deal with . . . this anymore, I understand. I’m not quite sure what’s happening or what these people will do—I’m not sure if you’ll become a target, too. You set up your web security stuff the night before we left, right?”

“Yes, though I doubt anyone would want to hack my stuff—they wouldn’t find anything besides my video game backups if they did. And while I am concerned, if I go home it’s to a father starving himself to death to punish me, so not exactly an upgrade.”

He was glad she didn’t want to leave, so he stood up and kissed her, the only way he had of showing her that, because it wasn’t like he could just tell her.

“Lukas will go with you to the breakfast this morning, if that’s okay,” he murmured against her lips, planting a kiss every few words.

“Okay, I’ll go get ready,” she said, giving him a final kiss. When she walked through the door back to her room, Johan felt an inexplicable loneliness. She was literally a few meters away and that seemed much too far. What would he do when she left?

He really was pathetic. And he had accounts to secure. He could deal with his ridiculous determination to balance his heart on the point of a blade later.

Chapter 17

ONE TRUE PRINCE, HANJO STORY MODE

Nya: I was perfectly happy with my boring normal life before you got me involved in this mess!

Hanjo: Were you happy, though?

Nya: . . . No.

Hanjo: And what about now?

Nya: I’m happy when you kiss me, I suppose.

Hanjo: Well, then, I’ll keep kissing you. And I won’t stop.

It felt strange to be at an event without Johan. Oddly, Nya didn’t feel as nervous as she’d been while in Thesolo, even though someone was trying to influence the referendum and wasn’t afraid to play dirty.

In a way, once Johan had told her what was going on, she’d felt something click into place. Her grandparents had always instilled in her that Ingoka didn’t make mistakes—Nya had hated that expression. To her, it had backed up all the things her father told her, had made it clear that being kept safe in her gilded cage was the proper path of her life.

But now here she was in another small kingdom in the throes of change, dealing with another person or people who wanted to influence the future of a country through trickery and deception. And this time she wasn’t related to the possible villains. When the priestess had said fate had brought her and Johan together, Nya had hoped she was talking about love. But maybe it had been this. Maybe Nya could help.

Johan had showed her care and gentleness. He’d made her feel beautiful and strong. She wasn’t sure she could do anything at all with just a few days to go until the referendum, but she would pay attention. She would smile wide so people thought her harmless. She would do what she had always done once people forgot her presence—she would watch and listen. Maybe she would stop these people as she hadn’t stopped her father.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Lukas said from beside her. His hair was slicked back into its queue, a bright blue elastic band matching his tie, but his lips were bare. The only color on his face was the dark circles under his eyes. “I asked for Belgian waffles, which offended the chef, but Liechtienbourgish waffles just aren’t fluffy enough.”

Nya felt a little sad for the boy. He could have been out having breakfast with friends, or going to the mall, or whatever it was that teenagers did for fun. All of the things she’d longed to do instead of helping her father practice his speeches or escaping from her own life through films. But Lukas would be king, and his life was even more regimented than hers had been. And though she’d experienced some scrutiny from the press, his whole life had been spent hiding from the intensity of it.

“I’m sure the chef doesn’t mind,” she said. There was an awkward silence as they ate, both likely scrambling for something to talk about that wasn’t Johan.

“You’re graduating this year?” Nya asked.

“Yes. I have to study for the BAC, then I’ll go to a Grand école in Paris, even though I really wanted to go to California.” He shrugged. “C’est la leiben.”

“Maybe you can do that instead! California would be fun. I dreamed of visiting while I was in the US, but . . .” She trailed off. “You should talk to your father. He seems reasonable.”

“There’s no reasoning with tradition,” he said. “I love my father, but when he looks at me all he sees is his legacy. I think it’s the one thing that makes him happy, since mother died, knowing I will be king.”

When he glanced at her, there was an anguish in his eyes that almost made her drop her fork.

Oh.

“Lukas. It’s okay to disappoint people, you know. This is your life, and not your father’s. Not your brother’s either. I don’t think either of them would want you to be unhappy.”

“I don’t know if it’s possible to be a happy king,” he said, pushing bits of waffle around on his plate. “Honestly, this is the weirdest job ever. You’re born into it, and people have already decided who you should be and how you should act.”

Nya knew that feeling well, and she asked what no one had ever asked her, after her father had told everyone she wanted to be a teacher, like her mother.