Nikolai crosses his arms. “So you do recognize her. Would you like to explain yourself?”
I let out a bitter laugh, trying to bite back the pain. But the princess’s hand flies to her mouth. She notices my wince, and I hate that she is perceptive enough to register my weakness.
“Of course I recognize her. I have read a newspaper or two in my absence—even turned the TV to the news once or twice. Just because I don’t—I mean didn’t—live in my own country, it’s not as if I abandoned all thoughts of home. I’ve kept up with what’s been going on in our enemy nation. Yet now you’ve gone and invited the enemy into our home. Would you like to explain yourself?”
The princess rests a warm palm on my chest, and I raise a brow. Perhaps this day will prove quite interesting after all.
“Tell them, Damien. Tell them I’m not a liar.”
“Tell them what, exactly?” I ask, amusement lacing my tone.
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