Free The Lost Princes of Ambria 06 - Taming the Lost Prince by Raye Morgan Page A

trying to look into this further, but …” He shrugged. “So far, not much.”
    “You’re right,” Pellea said evenly. “That’s not much.” She waved an official-looking document at him. “I’ll tell you what I have. We’ve just received it. It’s from their foreign minister.” Her eyes blazed.
    Max’s head went back defensively and his eyes were hooded. “What does he have to say?”
    She rattled the paper. “He says we have five days to the deadline and at that point, they expect us to hand you over.”
    A muscle pulsed at his jawline. “And if you don’t hand me over?”
    She glared at him. “They’re going to invade.”
    Kayla gasped. “What? Oh, Pellea, that can’t be.”
    The queen looked at Kayla, at a loss and showing it. “That’s what they say, right here.” She held up the embossed announcement, complete with signatures and an official stamp. “Read it and weep.”
    “They won’t invade,” Max scoffed. “They don’t have the man power.” But he perused the document carefully, reading every line.
    Pellea seemed to be counting to ten. Finally, she said a bit breathlessly, “Maybe they won’t actually invade. Maybe this is all bluster. But that doesn’t fix everything. We still owe this country a lot. We need to pay them back, in kind if not in cash. What are we going to do to satisfy them? What are we going to do about their demand to have you extradited?”
    His gaze was steady and firm. “We’re going to tell them to pound sand, I hope.”
    “No.” She shook her head emphatically.
    His face registered a tiny flash of shock, then one eyebrow rose quizzically. “You want me to go and stand trial?” he asked incredulously.
    “Of course not. But we don’t get around it by yelling at them.” She threw her hands up. “We consult. We sympathize. We question. We find ways to talk them out of their anger. We don’t give them exactly what they want, but we make them think we did.”
    Max frowned, not sure he bought her song and dance. “But we still don’t know exactly what they want from me.”
    “No. We don’t, do we?” Pellea tapped the toe of her shoe against the tiled floor and stared at him steadily. “The only one here who could possibly know is you. So what do you think it is? If you were to venture a guess.”
    Max stared back. Kayla waited breathlessly, expecting him to find a way to tell the queen about the princess, just the way he’d told her. She waited. And waited.
    But Max didn’t say a word about that. Instead, his handsome face seemed to have cleansed itself of all emotion, all thought, and he said evenly, “I think you already have a theory. Don’t you? Why don’t you tell me what it is?”
    “A theory? No.” She pulled another large sheet of paper off her desk and brandished it. “But the foreign minister of Mercuria seems to have one. Here’s what he says.” She held it up and began to read, just skimming to the pertinent words and phrases.
    “According to the foreign minister, while you were in their lovely country, enjoying their delightful hospitality …” She took a deep breath before going on, setting up a nicely dramatic pause. “You stole a horse, hijacked an airplane and made off with an important ancient historical national artifact.” She lowered the paper and looked him in the eye. “And you say …?”
    He was shaking his head, half laughing, but without amusement. “That’s insane. I never took any artifact.”
    Kayla groaned and Pellea’s eyes widened. “But the horse and the airplane …?”
    He grimaced. This was all so stupid. “Listen, I can explain.”
    Pellea looked at Kayla. Kayla looked at Pellea. They both groaned.
    “No, really,” he said, feeling unfairly outnumbered. “There was no money in the treasury. They gave me the plane in lieu of payment for services rendered. I can prove it.”
    Pellea’s eyes flashed. “Good. You’ll have to. Do you have papers?”
    He hesitated and then he shrugged.