My boots squeaked against the reception hall’s overly polished marble floors, and Nikolai fell silent. He stood in the middle of the soaring two-story space next to Elin and Viggo, the Deputy Head of Royal Security. I’d memorized every staff member’s face and name so I would notice if anyone tried to sneak in by disguising themselves as a palace employee.
I gave the group a curt nod. “Your Highness.”
“Mr. Larsen.” Nikolai responded with a regal nod of his own. “I trust you’re enjoying your day off?”
Since the palace was so heavily guarded, I was off the clock when Bridget was at home, which was most days since her grandfather’s hospitalization. It felt strange. I was so used to being by her side twenty-four-seven I…
You do not miss her. I dismissed the ridiculous idea before it became a fully formed thought.
“It’s been fine.” I’d tried drawing again, but I hadn’t gotten much further than a few lines on paper. I ran out of creativity, inspiration—whatever you call it—months ago, and today had been my first time picking up my sketchbook since.
I’d needed something to occupy my hands and mind.
Something that wasn’t five-nine with the face of an angel and curves that would fit perfectly beneath my palms.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I hardened my jaw, determined not to fantasize about my fucking client in front of her brother. Or ever.
“Where’s Princess Bridget?” According to her schedule, she was supposed to be horseback riding with Nikolai. But the skies looked ready to pour, so I assumed they’d called it a day early.
Nikolai exchanged glances with Elin and Viggo, and the needle on my trouble radar inched closer to the red zone.
“I’m sure Her Highness is somewhere in the palace,” Viggo said. He was a short, heavyset man with a ruddy face and a passing resemblance to a Scandinavian Danny DeVito. “We’re looking for her as we speak.”
The needle pushed past the red zone into the white-hot emergency zone. “What do you mean, you’re looking for her?” My voice remained calm, but alarm and anger bubbled in my stomach. “I thought she was with you, Your Highness.”
Elin glared at Viggo. She didn’t have to speak for me to hear her scream, Viggo, you idiot.
Whatever was happening, I wasn’t supposed to know about it.
Nikolai shifted his weight, discomfort sliding across his face. “She was, but we got into an argument and she, ah, took off while we were riding.”
“How long ago?” I didn’t give a damn if I sounded disrespectful. It was a personal safety issue, and I was Bridget’s bodyguard. I had a right to know what happened.
Nikolai’s discomfort visibly increased. “An hour ago.”
The anger erupted, edging out the alarm by a hair. “An hour ago? And no one thought to call me?”
“Watch your tone, Mr. Larsen,” Elin admonished. “You’re speaking to the Crown Prince.”
“I’m aware.” Elin could take her glares and shove them up her ass along with the stick permanently residing there. “No one has seen the princess since?”
“A groundskeeper found her horse,” Viggo said. “We took it back to—”
“Found her horse.” A vein pulsed in my forehead. “Meaning she wasn’t riding it and she hadn’t returned it to the stables herself.” No matter how angry she was, Bridget would never leave an animal behind. Something had happened to her. Panic grated against my insides as I bit out, “Tell me. Have you searched the grounds, or just the palace?”
“Her Highness wouldn’t be out there,” Viggo blustered. “It’s storming! She’s inside—”
“Unless she fell off her horse and is unconscious somewhere.” Jesus, how the hell had he risen to the deputy security chief position? There were hamsters with more brains than him.
“Bridget is an excellent equestrian, and we have a few people searching outside. She could’ve run off to one of her hiding places. She used to do that as a kid.” Nikolai looked at Viggo. “But Mr. Larsen’s right. It doesn’t hurt to be extra thorough. Shall we send extra men to check the grounds?”
“If you wish, Your Highness. I’ll draw up the quadrants…”
Un-fucking-believable.
I was halfway out the door before Viggo finished his moronic sentence. Too bad the Head of Security, who was actually competent, was on vacation because his deputy was a goddamned idiot. By the time he finished drawing his quadrants, Bridget could be seriously hurt.
“Where are you going?” Elin called after me.
“To do my job.”
I picked up my pace, cursing the size of the palace as I sprinted toward the closest door leading outdoors. By the time I hit the grounds, my panic had escalated into full-blown terror. Thunder boomed so loud it rattled the door as I shut it behind me, and it was raining so hard the gardens and fountains blurred in front of me.
The estate was too large for me to search it all by myself, so I had to be strategic. My best bet would be to start at the official horseback riding trail in the southeast corner and go from there, though the rain would’ve washed away any hoofprints by now.
Luckily, the palace had a fleet of motorized carts to ferry guests around the grounds, and I made it to the riding trail in ten minutes instead of the half hour it would’ve taken me on foot.
“Come on, princess, where are you?” I muttered, my eyes straining to see past the thick sheet of water slanting through the air.
Images of Bridget lying on the ground, her body twisted and broken, flashed through my mind. My skin turned ice cold, and the wheel slipped against my sweaty palms.
If anything happened to her, I would murder Viggo. Slowly.
I scoured the trails, but twenty minutes later, I still hadn’t found her, and I was getting desperate. She could be indoors, but my gut told me she wasn’t, and my gut was never wrong.
Maybe she was in an area the cart couldn’t reach. It wouldn’t hurt to check.
I killed the engine and jumped out, ignoring the harsh sting of raindrops on my skin.
“Bridget!” The rain swallowed her name, and I let out a low curse. “Bridget!” I tried again, my boots sinking into the muddy ground as I searched the area near the trail. The rain plastered my shirt and pants to my skin, making it hard to move, but I’d weathered worse than a puny thunderstorm as a SEAL.
I wasn’t giving up until I found her.
I was about to move on to a different section of the grounds when I spotted a flash of blonde out of the corner of my eye. My heart tripped, and I froze for half a beat before I sprinted toward her.
Please let it be her.
It was.
I sank onto my knees by her side, my chest hollowing at the paleness of Bridget’s face and the large, purplish bruise on her forehead. A small trickle of blood dripped down the side of her face, turning pink when it mingled with the rain. She was unconscious and completely soaked through.
A snarling, protective beast rose in my chest with such ferocity it stunned me.
Viggo was as good as dead. If he hadn’t dragged his feet, if someone had fucking called me and told me Bridget was missing…
I forced myself to push the anger aside for now. I had more important things to focus on.