Chapter 52

Stefan glanced up as the queen finally stepped away from Nicki, his stomach churning over what the queen might have said to her. She obviously hadn't explained the Rite of O?ros, since Nicki hadn't fainted dead away again.

He excused himself from the knot of strategizing between Kristos, Cyril, Dimitri, and Jasen, which he suspected would go on far into the night, and strode across the room. The queen smoothed her hands over her eyes, whisking away tears, and took her leave of Nicki, stepping toward Stefan with purpose.

He knew Catherine's ultimate goal was the men behind him, but her focus was fully on him, her stare intent as he met her in the center of the sitting room. She paused briefly, then speared him with a glare.

"If you don't tell that woman that you love her, I will personally make your life miserable for the rest of my life and then instruct all my heirs and their children to do the same," she said. "She's a national treasure, and I expect you to make her our national treasure, Stefan Mihal."

Then she was gone.

Stefan didn't break stride, sparing only a moment to blink a few times as he assimilated the queen's words. He'd known from the start that the queen had an incurable penchant for matchmaking, but he hadn't expected it to manifest so…clearly. He waited for the flash of resistance to come in the wake of the queen's high-handed command, just as it always did when she made completely unreasonable requests with complete confidence that her dictates would be followed.

But no resistance came. If anything, his mind instantly set to work, going through the possibilities, considering the angles.

Nicki, for her part, was grinning gamely at him as he reached her.

"So it's going to be okay, right?" she asked, and he quirked her a smile.

"They're—happy," she said, waving at the knot of people across the room. "Glad that you found the prince, that he's here safely, despite that he's not quite right yet. He will be normal again one day, or whatever will become the new normal for him. And he's safe."

Stefan nodded. "They're happy. They're beyond happy. Their son is safe, he is returned. I suspect that even if he's unable to remember who he is—who they are—that disappointment will pale in comparison to the reality that he's alive and there remains a lifetime of new memories to forge." He glanced back to where the royal family stood, arguing exuberantly over the best course of treatment for Ari's recovery. "The queen will win her battle to ensure Francesca Simmons becomes part of the therapy team. Do you know if she'll be prepared for that?"

To his surprise, Nicki didn't answer right away. Instead, she frowned thoughtfully.

"I think she will," she said at last. "Her natural tendency would be to say yes, of course—especially if she's not acting in an official capacity. But Fran has always been the quietest of us all. She studied a lot and didn't really go out much, even when she was done with her training and thesis work overseas. I don't know as much about her as I do about Lauren and Emmaline, that's for sure."

Stefan frowned, and Nicki rushed in with reassurance. "But she'll be great in whatever the family and doctors decide what her role should be, honestly. She's dependable, really, she is."

"There seems to be a fair amount of that going around."

Nicki's smile was genuine. "What can I say—I've got good friends."

"And they're lucky to have you," Stefan said. They'd moved to the far end of the room, where the windows overlooked the sea—a dim patch in the darkness as the night fell swiftly over the island. There were several more beautiful locations in the villa, but few that were so private. And privacy had been critical for this conversation. The entire family would retire to the other houses soon, keeping out of sight of Ari.

But Stefan found he couldn't wait another second for what he wanted to say—what he needed to say. He turned to Nicki and took her hands in his. "I've been very lucky to find you, too," he murmured.