Chapter Five

Ruth spent her first year as Operational Liaison in the Army Foreign Intelligence Department absolutely loving her job more than she ever imagined possible. She enjoyed it and she was bloody good at it, too. She'd never really felt as though she had a proper place and a proper purpose before. Her whole life, to that point, was like a book already published but with every other page blank. So much was preordained for her, but there was so much she had to figure out for herself.

She was a princess, she knew. The only child of the younger son of the king. That made her a princess. She was born in a palace. She had servants and bodyguards to tend and protect her from the moment she drew her first breath. But she never quite felt like she knew what to do in the royal world. After all, it would be her Uncle Edmund who would become king when Grandfather passed. And he'd just gotten married two years before, so their child would be the next heir. Ruth was not born to become queen, and no one had trained her to do so. But her mother had died when she was very young and her grandmother died while Ruth was off at school. The only princess she had as a model was her uncle's wife whom Ruth had never really liked and tried to avoid as much as she could. Besides, she was only five years older than Ruth, which did not give any incentive to take the younger princess under her wing. Privately, Ruth and her father both thought Uncle Edmund's choice of wife was in extremely poor taste, but she was young enough to produce an heir when one would be needed, so they just kept their distance.

Her father, Prince James of Leister, was raised, as Ruth was, knowing that he would never become a monarch. His sense of formality was therefore much less than his parents or his older brother, and he had raised Ruth to be as normal as possible. She'd been educated at the finest schools rather than being privately tutored. She'd been allowed to live in a small house of her own in the capitol with one servant and one bodyguard to give her some semblance of a normal life. She'd been encouraged to find a job within the government that she might enjoy, something that would allow her to serve her country in a respectable way but allow her enough flexibility to fulfill her royal duties when necessary. Dad often told her he wished he could have become a doctor, but he wasn't allowed. So when Ruth had shown an aptitude and interest in analysis, he had been able to work with the Director of Intelligence to get her a job she wanted and to ensure she was given no special treatment beyond the requisite time off for those royal duties.

Such royal duties were thankfully few and far between, thankfully. But every so often there was a factory opening that she presided over. A maiden voyage of a ship that required a member of the royal family to smash a bottle of champagne for. A foreign diplomat visiting for a state dinner where she had to wear some uncomfortable dress and make small talk. Dad got her out of as much as he could, but as he told her, "You're much prettier than me, Ruth, and seeing you makes people happy." Well, she didn't know about that, but she never refused when Dad or Grandfather asked her to do something.

But for that first year of working as Operational Liaison, she was mostly unhindered by royal things. She could just be Ruth, overseeing the workings of the Foreign Intelligence Department, translating missives from their various bases, making reports to Harry, and solving any problems that might have arisen. She was lucky that none of her absences—usually half a day in the morning or afternoon here and there—did not coincide with Harry's own absences from the department. He always told her if he would be out, and she was able to rearrange if necessary. She assumed he was away for meetings with politicians and such, or tending to personal matters, but she did not pry. He did not ask her what she did when she was out of the office either. His personal life was a mystery to her, which left her vaguely curious but not overly concerned. His complete lack of interest in her life as Princess Louisa a comfort, and she was mildly worried that if she tried to get to know him in any more than a professional capacity, he might want to do the same to her. And having her boss in any way involved in royal things would not end well, she knew.

It did not occur to her, however, that Harry's disinterest in her royal life might mean that he was unaware of it until she was forced to make an unusual request and was met with an even more unusual response. At the end of a long day, she went into his office—always without knocking, as had become her habit over the last year.

"What is it, Ruth?" he asked, not even looking up from the file on his desk.

"I'm afraid I need to be away for a few days," she said. The royal tour was coming up, and even though Grandfather was perfectly capable of travelling on his own still, he decided he did not want to be entirely alone on the journey. Each member of the immediate family would be joining him for various legs of the trip. Ruth had been chosen to join him in Gambon, one of the tropical island colonies. She absolutely despised the idea, but obviously wasn't given much of a choice. At least it was only three days. Poor Dad was stuck with two whole weeks touring the plantations of Mahrain.

Harry looked up at her. "How many days is 'a few?'" he asked.

"Five," she replied. The travel would take a full day on either end of the three days in Gambon, she knew.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

"I've been requested on the royal tour in Gambon."

He gave her a funny look at that. "What for?"

Ruth did not know how to answer that. She thought that Harry might not know her royal status if he was asking her why she was requested to be on the royal tour. But he probably did know, she reasoned. He probably knew and was just wondering her purpose on the trip. Which, she realized, she had equal right to wonder. "I don't actually know," she said honestly. Because other than 'Grandfather told me to join him in Gambon,' she did not know what she was supposed to be doing.

He hummed indiscriminately. "Well, obviously you can't very well refuse. When are you leaving?"

"Thursday."

"Damn," he swore under his breath. "I need to be away that weekend as well. I don't like the idea of neither of us being available."

She hesitated, unsure of what to do.

But Harry just sighed. "Hopefully nothing will require me to come in, but I'll have to give someone my home number."

"I am sorry, Harry. I hope you won't be taken away from anything important," she told him earnestly.

He gave a soft smile. "It certainly isn't your fault, Ruth. And so long as I am home for the birthday dinner, I shouldn't be in too much trouble."

Ruth assumed he was referring to a wife or partner of some kind, which made her feel uncomfortable in a manner she did not like at all, but her curiosity was piqued. "Well, I hope it all works out."

"Thank you. And you enjoy your trip. Gambon is a very beautiful island," he said.

"Oh that's right, you were stationed there for a while," she recalled.

He looked at her with that familiar curious expression. "Have you memorized my personnel file?"

"Just your service history," she replied.

Harry smiled. "You are far too clever for your own good, Ruth. Thank god we've got you working here. I daresay the enemy would make good use of you."

"I think it would be far more likely for me to not work in intelligence at all instead of working for the enemy."

"Well, that would be a travesty for the whole world, not having you in intelligence."

Ruth was taken aback by the compliment and the quiet tone in which it was conveyed in equal measure. "I…erm…thank you," she stammered in response.

"Before you leave for your trip, just be sure to…"

"Finish the report summaries for the southern colonies and get the far east translations to Harold. Already finished," she replied, cutting off his reminder.

He nodded in satisfaction. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Ruth."

"You'd need to hire two or three people to take my place, I think," she teased.

Harry laughed at that, making that joyful wheezy sound that made her so inexplicably happy. "It would take at least three, I'm sure, and things still wouldn't be as efficient and much less fun."

"Well, I agree, this job is far too fun for me to ever give it up. No need to worry there, Harry."

"Good."

They lapsed into a mildly awkward silence with Harry watching her in a way that made her cheeks grow warm. "Well," she said, looking away from his dark, shining eyes and down at her shoes, "I should probably let you finish things up."

"Have dinner with me."

Ruth looked up sharply. "That's quite a conversation shift," she quipped, not knowing what else to say. Hadn't he just been talking about being in trouble for possibly missing a birthday dinner?

"After you get back from your trip," he added. "Think about it. There's a restaurant I think you'll like."

"Are…aren't you married?" she blurted in her confusion.

He raised his blank left hand. "My wife had the good sense to divorce me a long time ago and the misfortune to die shortly thereafter. I suppose you did just read my service record and not my personal information," he mused.

Ruth just stared at him. Stunned.

"As I said, think about it. Give me an answer when you get back."

She couldn't think of anything else to say, so she just nodded mutely and turned to leave his office and return to her desk. Good lord, she had quite a lot to think about.