The only thing left to do was find out how soon they could both get on a plane and go back to America.
To safety.
The door swished open. Kelsey expected it to be the hourly check-in by the nurse on duty, but it was Genevieve.
A wholly different version of Genevieve. Blond hair rumpled, clad in…loungewear. Sure, the tank top had hot-pink sequins in a heart shape, but it was under a half-zipped velour hoodie and matching pants.
Wow. The world truly was upside down. Kelsey squinted at the large clock on the wall. Well, it was only five in the morning. Maybe the full princess package didn’t kick in until six.
“May I come in?” Genevieve whispered.
Kelsey nodded. They’d put Mallory in the VIP room. It was large enough to have a pullout couch/bed and three chairs in addition to the one she’d pulled right next to the bed. With tasseled curtains, wood paneling, and an oriental rug by the couch, it had more the appearance of a hotel room than a hospital. After a gentle pat to Mallory’s arm, Kelsey moved to the couch.
Genevieve stood at the foot of the bed for a long moment, staring at Mallory’s so very pale face, framed by the braids Kelsey had done before the pain meds dragged her to sleep. Then she hitched in a ragged breath and went over to the couch. She held out a gym bag.
“This has clothes. I…didn’t know if you’d be okay with me going through your things, so they’re mine. But they should fit you. Comfy things. Slippers. If you give me a list of anything else you’d like, when your maid comes on duty later today, she can pull everything together.”
Kelsey had lost her heels off the end of the ER gurney. A kind nurse had given her socks with rubber grips on the bottom. But other than that, she still wore her blood-stiffened dress and diamond and pearl jewelry.
Uncomfortable was putting it mildly. This was the kindest thing Genevieve could have done. “Thank you. And, you know, I’d be fine if you went in my room. Although at twelve, my answer might’ve been different. But I don’t hide romance novels or a diary in my closet anymore.”
Genevieve held out her other hand, which held an insulated backpack. “This has a thermos of coffee, and another of chamomile tea, in case you want to sleep. Mixed fruit, an apple, and some pastries. I’ll have all your meals delivered as long as you’re both here. How’s Mallory supposed to get better if she’s only given hospital food?”
It went so far beyond simple kindness. So far beyond what Kelsey would’ve expected from her. Her throat tightened, and she blinked quickly to wisp away any threat of tears. “You think of everything.”
“I try.” Swinging the bags sideways, Genevieve looked back at the bed. “Will Mallory be okay?”
“She’ll pull through.” That was the short answer. The most important one, of course.
But the team of doctors had repeated several times how it was too early to tell just how bad and permanent the damage might be regarding ever having children. Kelsey assumed the repetition was them covering their asses, should her sister’s fertility be compromised, from a possible lawsuit.
Or a possible beheading, if they were old-school like that here in Moncriano.
The bags hit the carpet with a muffled thud. Genevieve closed the gap between them and put her arms around Kelsey. In a choked voice, she said, “I’m so sorry this happened to her. To you. I was so scared.”
“Me, too.”
It was a relief to finally admit it.
Kelsey hadn’t let herself fall apart inside Parliament, as Mallory’s blood pooled beneath her knees. Had stayed focused and calm with the dozens of medical professionals, hour after hour. Had stayed strong as she spoke to her parents in the States. But Genevieve admitting her own fear popped the cork out of everything Kelsey had bottled up.
She threw her arms around her sister as they both began to cry.
Sob.
Ugly cry. With shaking and sniffles and them clinging to each other tighter than shrunken sweaters. It lasted a long time. It lasted exactly the right amount of time. When they drew apart, they both reached for the tissue box on the low side table.
Without the perfect coiffure and couture, looking at Genevieve was similar to looking at herself in a funhouse mirror. Recognizable, but…not quite identical. Although now they did have identically red noses, cheeks, and eyes.
Yet another unexpected treat.
“I’m sorry,” Genevieve repeated, more calmly.
“Stop saying that. You didn’t shoot her.” According to the last report delivered by Sir Evan, the shooter had been making a statement about the upcoming European Union vote. Shockingly, he was a nationalist. Someone who believed Moncriano—and the royal family—was better off without any outside influence.
Someone who’d shouted loud enough for hundreds to hear that the American girl doesn’t deserve to be a Villani. She can’t be allowed to taint our royal family.
Once Mallory woke up, they could both have a laugh over Kelsey’s newest title “The Taint.”
At least, she hoped they could. That was assuming her own superhuman effort to set aside her anger and disgust at the assailant would work, and allow them to move on to more healing laughter.
Genevieve tapped her sternum. “One of my countrymen shot her. One of my subjects. One of my people.”
“Mine, too.” Kelsey shrugged. “For all we know, he’s connected somehow to the people who kidnapped me years ago. Or maybe he’s mentally ill. Or maybe he’s just evil. But the responsibility lies on him.”
That’s what the police said.
And the king. And Christian. And Sir Evan.
Kelsey didn’t believe it. Not yet. Not at all. She knew, however, it was expected of her to parrot the official line.
“Anyway, I really mean it when I say I’m so sorry all of this happened.” Genevieve half-heartedly waved an arm toward Mallory. “That if it wasn’t for Elias, you’d be the one lying on that bed—or worse. Probably far, far worse.”
Elias. He’d literally jumped in front of a bullet to save her life. Was that really all duty and training? Had any of it been rooted in his caring for her? Kelsey assumed she’d never know. But once he’d carried her inside at a dead run and set her down next to Mallory’s bleeding body, he’d held her hand.
And it had helped.
How close she’d come herself to death, rather than her sister’s narrow escape? That was too selfish to even contemplate until Mallory was fully out of the woods.
Kelsey removed her earrings. “I’m trying not to think about it.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” her sister said in a rush. And her violet eyes turned frantic. “Because I wasn’t sure you’d be any good for our family. Until I was suddenly confronted with the possibility of you being gone forever.” With a drooped head, she murmured, “It made me realize that I’ve been horrible to you.”