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[23/07 à 13:18] successful Devices Only: CHAPTER 30 And just in time. The door opened, revealing a pair of men in the same all-black suit that Hans favoured, clear earpieces curling about their ears. They both blinked at the sight of her, clearly confused. The taller man collected himself first, and stepped forward. "Miss Neita," he said, inclining his head. "We are sorry to disturb you." He didn't mention how odd it was for her to be sitting in front of a piano with her back to the keys, in the dark, during a ball held in her honour. "We are looking for Princess Ella. She is not in her room, and the king was concerned about her roaming the halls when we have guests." Roaming the halls with the reddened outline of his hand on her face. Yes, he would be concerned about that, wouldn't he? "I haven't seen any rogue children," Cherry said sweetly. "But I am glad you found me. I was looking for my fiancé, and I got lost." She let out a sparkling laugh. "Do you think you have him come here and get me? Put those little earpieces to use?" The man shifted slightly. "Miss Neita, we would be happy to accompany you—" "Oh, no," she said blithely. "That's not necessary. I'd really like to see my fiancé." She rested her hands against her knees and leant forward, smiling as both men's eyes flew to her cleavage. "Please?" The taller man cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Of course. I'll— we'll pass that message on right away. Good evening, Miss Neita."

Good evening, gentlemen." She smiled sunnily after them. They rushed out of the room as if it were on fire. When the door clicked shut behind them, Cherry slid off the little stool and sank onto the floor. She met Ella's eyes, still glistening with unshed tears, and said, "Was it your father, or was it your aunt?" Ella sniffed, swiping a hand over her nose. "Aunt Sophy likes to make trouble," the child said. "She does not like to feel trouble." Hm. Surprisingly apt. "Alright," Cherry said. "Your father. Would you like to come out from under there?" The child shook her head. "Has he done this before?" Ella hesitated. But then she said, the words tumbling out, "Not like this. But he hurts me sometimes, and worse now. Tonight I asked him, too many times, why I cannot go to the ball. And he lost his temper. So…" She waved helpless at her cheek. Cherry nodded. "I see." They were interrupted by more footsteps, and yet again, Cherry swirled into position before the piano. But in the end, the subterfuge wasn't necessary. The door opened to reveal Ruben, his face tight with worry. He fiddled with the light, bathing the room in a low, golden glow. "Cherry? What's going on?" "Well," she began, trying to keep her voice calm. Before she could go any further, Ella shot out from under the piano and ran across the room, throwing her arms around Ruben's waist. He looked down at her with a frown. "Ella? What are you doing out of bed?" Cherry saw the exact moment that Ruben caught sight of his niece's face. Everything about him hardened in an instant. Even as he tried to smooth out his expression, to keep his voice steady andcalm, she saw. He tipped Ella's head back with shaking hands and stared at the mark on her cheek. It was even worse in the light. It would almost certainly bruise. The next words he said to her were Danish, incomprehensible to Cherry. She really needed to learn. Then he said in English, "Go and sit with Cherry. Stay here. I will come back soon." The child obeyed, and Ruben turned and stalked from the room without another word. Cherry stared after him. "What did he say?" She wasn't expecting an answer. But Ella replied with satisfaction in her voice. "He said we're leaving and we're never coming back." Ruben shouldered his way through the crowds, all of his focus on the couple at the centre of the room. Lydia and Harald might as well be joined at the hip; he hadn't let her go all night, and he clearly didn't intend to. Now Ruben knew why. Harald didn't want his wife to catch wind of the fact that Ella was running around the palace—or, more importantly, why. Wouldn't want a scene in front of all these people, now, would he? Ruben relied upon that fact to get him what he needed. He approached his brother with the biggest smile he could muster, dredging up what he imagined a brotherly greeting might sound like. "Harald! If I could borrow my lovely sister-in-law for a moment…" Lydia gave him a mutinous glare, shaking her head infinitesimally. But Harald didn't betray even a second of surprise. He grinned back at Ruben as naturally as if they were old friends, as if they really were family instead of just blood. "Of course, little brother! Don't keep her too long, will you?" He bent to kiss Lydia's cheek, lingering for a few endless seconds. Then he looked up and met Ruben's eyes, his own cold, the threat there clear. "You know I hate to be without her." The assembled crowd cooed as if this were the most adorable thing they'd ever heard. Ruben tried not to look as sickened as he felt and swept an arm around Lydia's shoulders, steering her away. "What are you doing?" She muttered under her breath, a smile pinned to her face. "I told you, I cannot—" "You will," Ruben said. "You will." He pulled out his phone as he and Lydia hurried through the halls, sending a quick text to Hans. A signal. The reply was swift. We're ready. Ruben slid his phone into his pocket as they approached the door to the music room. He turned to Lydia and said, "I can't take you in here without warning you. Harald—" She held up a hand. Sometime over the last few minutes, she'd become cold and remote. Now her gaze was flinty, her jaw hard as stone. She said, "Which one of my daughters is in this room?" He met her eyes as he said, "Ella." She swallowed. Nodded. Took a deep breath, and opened the door. Cherry and Ella had been sitting side by side on the little piano stool. At the sight of her mother, Ella disentangled herself from Cherry's voluminous skirts and ran across the room, her tears starting all over again. "I wasn't supposed to tell," she sobbed. "Shh." Lydia swept her daughter into her arms, her tiny figure suddenly seeming ten feet tall. "It is good. You must always tell. We talked about this, remember? No matter what anyone says, you must always tell."

Ruben left mother and child for a moment, turning to Cherry. Letting her see every inch of his gratitude for the things she'd done tonight. She stood, and he pulled her into a hug, giving himself a few blissful seconds to melt into her softness, her sweet, cinnamon scent. She rubbed a soothing hand across his shoulder, and only then did he notice the tension in his muscles, the pounding in his head. Only then did he realise how drained his fury had left him. She whispered into his ear, "Everything will be fine. This is the darkest moment. From this point on, everything will be fine." He wished he could believe that. But just hearing the words from her lips gave him strength. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before turning back to Lydia. She was watching him over Ella's head, her gaze hard. "Tonight," he said. She nodded. "I should've listened to you." "No. Your priority was your daughters, just as it is now. Things have changed. We change with them. Put Ella to bed, and go back to the ballroom." She stiffened. "I can't—" "You have to. Go to him. Smile at him. We will too. Retire early, tonight, and ready the children. Hans will come to get you." She nodded slowly. But then she asked, as if she couldn't help herself: "Are you sure? Are you sure this will work?" "No," Ruben said. "But I am sure that one way or another, you're getting out of here tonight. No matter what I have to do."

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[23/07 à 13:27] successful Devices Only: CHAPTER 31 Cherry's dress was gorgeous, but in hindsight, she should've chosen something slightly less… dramatic. She watched Lydia settle her children into the back of the waiting Hummer. First Ella, then Hilde, who had been carried from the palace asleep in Hans's arms. "Don't worry," Demi said, placing a hand on Cherry's shoulder. She had to reach up to do it, but she still managed to sound like a parent comforting her child. "We've planned everything. Nothing will go wrong, inshallah." Cherry exhaled, her breath condensing in the midnight air. "I'd feel a lot better about this if I'd seen you at some point in the last week." "Oh, I was around," Demi smiled. Her gaze trailed to Hans, as if by habit. Cherry managed to spare a smile of her own. "I don't doubt it." The children settled, Lydia climbed into the car. Ruben appeared, a few familiar members of his guard trailing behind him. "We're ready," he said. "We'll go round to the front entrance and slide in with all the cars leaving tonight. He shouldn't notice we're gone until we reach the airport." With a nod, Demi stepped forward and slid into the passenger seat. Hans walked round to the other side of the car, leaving Cherry alone with her prince.

Prince no longer, after tonight. Ruben reached out to her. "Let's go." She put her hand in his. And that was when it all fell apart. "How sweet," Harald said. His voice rang out through the darkness. And then the floodlights drowned Ruben in their bright, white glow, blinding him for a second. He squeezed Cherry's hand, and felt her squeeze back. Then he turned around to face his brother. Harald stood at the entrance to the basement garage they'd parked in front of. He was flanked by a dozen members of the royal guard, dressed in Hans's all-black uniform. They shared his intimidatingly blank expressions too, but theirs were made truly terrifying by the dead look in their eyes. "You have your boys, little brother." Harald held up his hands, indicating the men behind him."And I have mine." Ruben steeled himself. Calculated all the possibilities in his mind. His brother's men were armed, but they couldn't get away with any real damage, could they? Harald wouldn't risk the complications. Of course, if he did, Lydia and the girls would be safe. They were already in the car, an official royal vehicle, bulletproof. But Cherry was right here. "Harald," Ruben said, his voice low. "We can discuss this sensibly, can't we?" "Discuss what?" Harald hissed. "You kidnapping my wife? My heirs?" "I'm just taking the girls on a trip. They don't want to see you right now." Ruben gentled his tone. "You understand, Ella's in shock. Lydia's—" "Do you think I'm an idiot?" Harald's eyes bulged as he spat out the words, fury blooming red beneath his pale skin. Hestepped forwards, across the tarmac, his hand's fisted at his sides. He was still wearing the gold-braided dress uniform he preferred for formal engagements, military medals pinned to his chest. None of which he'd earned. But then, he hadn't had the chance to. By the time he came of age, the throne was essentially his. "If you take her," Harald said, "she'll never come back." For a moment, Ruben thought that his brother might actually miss his wife. But then Harald cried out, his voice ragged with panic, "What will people think of me?" Cherry's voice rang out before Ruben could even open his mouth. "They'll suspect what we already know. That you are a weak, pathetic man who hits his own children—" Ruben pulled her closer to him, cutting off her words, angling his own body in front of hers. "Stop," he whispered tightly. "You don't know what he's going to do." "I don't care," she hissed. "The girls are in the car. Tell Hans to leave. He won't follow them with all those people as witnesses." Even now, just to the east of the palace's jutting wing, they could hear the chatter and laughter of guests, the engines starting as people piled into their cars and limousines. It would take seconds to reach the safety of the crowd, if Hans put his foot down. Which would leave Cherry here to face his brother's wrath, and Ruben with nothing but his bare hands to protect them both. All his life he had stormed into situations based on nothing but instinct, passion, sheer bloody-mindedness. He couldn't do that anymore. "Harald," he shouted across the tarmac. "You must realise you've gone too far. This is ridiculous. I'll take the girls home with me, just for a while, and it'll all blow over. Be reasonable, will you?" His brother scowled at that, as Ruben had expected. "You presume to dictate to me? You, the son of a gutter-born whore!" He spat out the familiar words, his voice rising as he got into the swing of things. Ruben didn't bother to listen. Heknew the gist. Your very existence is a stain on the great history of this proud nation, your mother the seductress destroyed our lives, blah blah fucking blah. As his brother ranted and raved, throwing out the words that had once torn Ruben apart, Ruben turned his head slightly to catch Cherry's eye. He kept his lips as still as he could, and murmured under his breath, "Phone in my pocket." Cherry looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. But evidently she decided to trust him anyway, because her hand slid into his left pocket and then his right, her movements hidden by her skirts. She found the phone and looked up at him, widening her eyes in question. What now? "Are you listening to me?" Harald roared, tearing at the sash across his waist, his neatly slicked-back hair falling over his sweaty brow. Ruben said, "Kathryn." "What?" Harald hissed. "I said, yes. I'm listening." He squeezed Cherry's hand. Hard. Hoped she got the message. "But I think it's time you listened, Harald." He took a deep breath. Prayed to every god he could think of that somehow, this would work. And then he began. "When our parents died, you and Sophronia and I, we were all alone together. We should have been a comfort to each other. And I realise that you hated my mother. That you were angry with our father for throwing everything away for a love you couldn't understand. I get it. I really fucking do. But you didn't have to take that out on me, Harald. I was just a child, and you did your best to break me. In body and in spirit. Do you know how fucked up I was, the day I left this place? How long it took me to stop hating myself? Too long. "But I got better. I figured out how to be myself, instead of someone else's punching bag. And I swore that no matter what you did, no matter how much I despised you, I would never give up the one thing you swore I didn't deserve. I would never let you push me out of this family.But you know what? This place is poison. The family fucking name, the royal fucking household, is poison. I keep waiting for you to change the way I have, for you to become a better person, but that's never going to happen, is it? Because this isn't about our parents, and this isn't about who I am or anything I've done. This is about you. You're the problem. You can't stop hurting people. You hurt Lydia, who loves you —I have no idea why, but she does. So fucking much. Or at least, she did. But you couldn't stop with her. You hit your own fucking kid, Harald. Ella is thirteen years old. She's your daughter. "What kind of so-called king preys on his own family that way? You're so obsessed with titles and power, and what everybody thinks… What would you do if the man you really are was exposed to the world? What would you do?" Harald stood before them, his face twisted into a sneer. "Very philosophical, Ruben. I'm utterly shamed. So embarrassed. Now get my wife out of that fucking car, before one of my boys loses control of his weapon and shoots your darling fiancée." Cherry brought a hand down on Ruben's shoulder even as he started to react, his vision blurring, his world a haze of red. She dug her nails into his flesh, hard. "Stop," she whispered. And then she pushed the phone into his hand. He looked down at the screen, and relief flooded through him. There was a little red light blinking in the left corner, next to the words: LIVE STREAM. Ruben faced the king with a smile, holding the phone up between them. "Well, would you look at that," he called. "It seems everyone does know." "Know what?" Harald demanded. "Who you really are." Ruben tossed the phone across the tarmac, watching as his brother snatched it out of the air and looked at the screen.

The way his eyes widened, frantic and afraid, was almost the sweetest sight of Ruben's life. Almost. "Tell me," Ruben said. "Can you see how many people are listening right now?" Harald looked up, his face slack. "The number… the number keeps changing." "Ah, that means people are still watching. I'm not great with social media, but I think that video stays up for the next 24 hours. Plus, you know, it's still—" Harald threw the phone against the tarmac. He released an unearthly scream, stamping on the device again and again, his movements vicious and brutal. The men standing behind him began to mutter amongst themselves, watching him warily, as if wondering whether they should take action. When he threw himself to his knees and began punching the phone, smashing his fists against the ground, Ruben backed away, towards the waiting car. "Go," he said to Cherry, keeping his eyes on Harald. "But—" "I'm coming. But I'm not about to turn my back on him. Go." To his relief she went. He heard the swish of her skirts as she stuffed them through the car door. And then, with halting, backwards steps, he reached the car himself. Cherry's hands guided him in. He didn't tear his eyes from his brother, a ragged mess screaming at shards of glass and plastic on the ground. Not until Cherry shut the door and shouted, "Hans!" The engine roared. And just like that, they were away.