The Elite (Romantic Suspense)

Daphne: Meet the Family

The car reached the palace's back gate and was waved through by a pair of guards standing at attention. Even in the middle of the night, the white stone of Calden Palace was as intimidating as it was beautiful.

In spite of herself, Daphne was acutely aware of Jacob sitting a bit straighter, smoothing the grey pullover and trying to polish his appearance more than he had since she'd met him. Maybe he felt the weight of where he was, too.

The car door was opened by a familiar face. Gerald, who had been her father's valet for as long as she could remember, was looking at her as though he was afraid she would break. "Your Royal Highness, we are so relieved that you are home safely."

She smiled at him and stepped from the car, the moment very different than the way the evening had started. "Thank you, Gerald. I'm relieved to be back."

He glanced behind her. "Mr. Marchant, I presume?"

Jacob must have nodded an affirmative.

"His Majesty asked that I escort you and the princess to his office immediately."

Daphne nodded even though the comment wasn't directed toward her, trying to ignore the way that her heart beat slightly faster just thinking about seeing her father. Half of her wanted to run into his arms, to bury her head in his chest like when she was a little girl, and the other half wanted to avoid seeing him at all. It would feel so much more... real talking to him about what happened.

Beside her, Jacob squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. "Thank you."

They walked wordlessly behind the valet, Jacob somehow falling exactly into the required two-paces behind her. Daphne was beginning to wonder if she he was like her brother – constantly impressive no matter where he found himself. She tried not to be annoyed by the possibility.

They reached the west wing of the building — the portion that was used for the bulk of the governing responsibilities — and climbed the grand staircase to the second-floor landing. Two large ivory doors inlaid with an intricate gold design that incorporated Montrovia's national flower and the eagle that was her family's crest greeted them. Gerald knocked, and, after a moment, opened the door and stepped inside. "Her Royal Highness Princess Daphne and Mr. Jacob Marchant."

Before Daphne could even step through the door, loud shrieks of relief and three bodies flung themselves at her. It took a moment before she was able to distinguish her mother and two younger sisters as the source of the noise.

"I'm soooo glad you're home," Genevieve, Daphne's youngest sister, said. She was the only one still hugging her. "We were so worried when we saw what happened."

Daphne wasn't sure if her sister was referring to Gustavo being outed as the worst kind of liar or the bombing, but she couldn't think of a good response either way. She glanced between her mother's worried face and her middle sister, Celia. Neither of them seemed to know what to say.

Daphne wanted to reassure them that everything was fine, but she couldn't until she saw one more person. He was standing a few steps behind the crush of his mother and sisters, watching the scene with a somewhat paternal expression on his face. Crown Prince Nicholas, heir to the throne of Montrovia, caught her eye and winked. She smiled, feeling herself fully relax for the first time tonight. Daphne wasn't sure that twins had a supernatural connection, but she and her brother could have entire conversations without ever saying a word. "I'm fine, Nick."

Nicholas raised his hands in mock surrender, as though it had never occurred to him to worry like the rest of their family.

Her father stepped around her mother and swept her into a big hug. Daphne sighed, feeling grateful. If nothing else, at least she knew they loved her.

Her brother cleared his throat. "Mr. Marchant, I apologize for our rudeness. I believe that we owe you quite a bit of thanks for ensuring my sister arrived home safely tonight."

Daphne looked back in time to see Jacob execute a perfect bow. "No thanks required, Your Highness. It was my pleasure to escort Daphne back to Montrovia. I only wish I could have gotten her here sooner."

"You don't look familiar," Genevieve said, staring intently at Jacob's face. Daphne's face heated on her sister's behalf.

Celia elbowed her sister in the ribs. "Genni!"

The youngest princess rubbed her side. "What? He doesn't."

Luckily Jacob only smiled. "She's not wrong. I'm relatively new to the Royal Protection Force. I don't think Princess Genevieve would recognize me from any of her recent outings." He softened his words with the same smile that caught Daphne off guard on the plane. It appeared to be equally, if not more, effective on her sister.

There was a moment of awkward silence, as though everyone was suddenly reminded of where they were and why they were all together. After a moment, King Frederick cleared his throat. "Now that we know that Daphne is safe and that Mr. Marchant performed his duties admirably, I'm afraid that I must ask everyone to leave. I need to speak with Mr. Marchant." He looked sideways at his wife and younger daughters. "Unfortunately, those conversations require a bit of privacy."

Genevieve and Celia looked disappointed, and even Queen Eleanor seemed to want to linger. She dutifully began ushering the teenagers out of the room. Nicholas lingered near the door, no doubt waiting for Daphne so they could talk privately. Daphne had just turned to thank Jacob for the final time when her father held up one hand. "Daphne, I need you to stay as well."

Everyone's confusion was immediately apparent, although no one said anything. Daphne glanced at Jacob, but his face was as impassable as ever — either he had known and hidden it from her, or he was exceptionally good at masking his emotions. Given his ability to turn his smile on and off in an instant, she suspected the latter.

"Of course." Daphne hoped her tone was as level as she wanted it to be. She gave Nicholas a small wave, trying not to feel pleased that, for once, she was included in a meeting that he wasn't, and moved slightly closer to the ornate wooden desk that dominated the back of the room.

King Frederick waited for the large door to close behind Gerald before he gestured to each of the younger people in his presence. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."