Even in Manolo satin pumps, Queen Joronn had to balance on her tiptoes to address the hushed crowd until Nik removed the mic from the stand and passed it to her. She was a petite woman whose blue eyes and choice of dress were both younger and brighter than  the lines on her face suggested. Brushing away tears, the Queen hugged her son. Logan kissed the crown of her head as applause rounded up the remaining guests. Annelise lifted the edge of her dress in a willowy curtsy.

I stood there white as chalk and blank as an empty board, not understanding a lick of the rapid dialogue until Sal's hushed paraphrasing filled my ear.

"The hole in my heart has been filled; the love I thought lost has doubled at word of my son's engagement to the beautiful Crown Princess Annelise Daugaard of Sweden. Years and oceans apart, and yet their love remains strong. Under their rule Norway and Sweden shall flourish, fostering the tremendous spirit of our nations through the young hope present in their union." A butler rushed a glass into her left hand. The other she swept across the crowd.

On cue, waitpersons balancing platters of bubbling chardonnay slipped through the masses. Salvig selected two fluted glasses. Etched along each rim was the wedding date.

Queen Joronn looked upon her son and future daughter-in-law with what could only have been the most fond adoration. "To Niklas and Annelise. May the hearts you link stay united forever!"

The happy couple kissed- but it wasn't just a kiss. This was a spilled drinks, tip her back and draw a whoop from the otherwise reserved crowd kind of kiss. Nik set Anne straight with a goofy grin, picked up his empty glass and waved to us all. "Anne!" he said, raising a new toast. His fiance blushed and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Sal rose his glass appropriately but didn't cheer. Arm shaking, I raised mine. My tongue twisted in aversion to the bitter wine. 

"You're up," he said in the moments following. Kissing the top of my head, he nudged my attention onto the princess and prince, who'd descended the stairs and parted ways to greet well-wishers. "Lykke til."

I shook his hand. "Same." 

His buoyant smile carried my legs where my nerves couldn't: all the way to the feet of a marble bear. There I waited, swirling the chardonnay in one hand and trying not to look tart as my ex discussed politics in French with a beefy ambassador. French! How many other foreign languages was Nik fluent in?

At long last a bacon-wrapped scallop glided past. The ambassador made a beeline for food. Mesmerizing though the appetizers were, I took advantage of the break and called a hoarse, "Logan!"

The Prince turned as though he'd heard a gunshot. Recognition became confusion. "Allie?"

As he pushed through the sea of colorful dresses and pressed suits, I saw in his astonished face that his universe once again revolved around me. And for the first time in a long time, I felt nervous just saying hello.

I put the glass to my lips to hide a smile while he excused himself. I'd been waiting so long to hear my name on his lips. Possessed by a sudden, flighty skittishness; as if about to get caught, I hid behind the statue, wedged between whorled stone and a wall of sweet briar roses. Branches prickled my neckline, a teasing prospect that destroyed the tough-talking atmosphere I'd planned on.

Moments later Nik arrived- arrived and carried on. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me through the shrubs. Wine liquored my heels. Thorns scrapped my arms, tugged my hair, and snagged the beautiful silver dress.

With a sickening rip we emerged before a reticent pond. Moonlight dappled the water, where lustrous koi glided through rippling stars, blind to the glass walls and fences where canine shadows prowled. An oval sign held an English explanation—mammalian zoo—not a comforting prospect when you're being dragged along like a wayward cavewoman. Wolves drowned my protest as we trudged into the gloom of a snowshoe hare exhibit.

We stood breathless and panting, together at last.

"Logan!" I gasped, still clutching my empty glass. "What the-"

He shoved me against the display barrier. Quicker than I could regain my balance, he seized the wine-less wrist and held it aloft. The blue eyes I'd shared so many memories with were cold. His face was as tense as the hare behind me, but held none of its softness.

"What in God's good name are you doing here, Allie?"

"Trying to talk to you, or at least, the man I thought you were." The tips of my fingers tingled and numbed.  I glanced at etched flute in my free hand; what was I gonna do, brain him with it? In a vain attempt to curtail the pressure, I wrenched my wrist downward with a soft warning he was hurting me. 

He released my hand, but both of his settled on either side of my head. "You idiot! You could be arrested for trespassing! I'm not saying I won't get you out of it, because I will, but you can't just burst in here."

Flexing my freed hand, I drew to my full height, almost nose to nose with him in these heels. "I have an invitation. I'm on a date with your first cousin once removed or something: Salvig Rustad."

His eyebrow rose. "You and Sal?"

I nodded.

"No."

"Ask him yourself," I hissed. "Oh wait, I forgot. Some witch cursed you real good, 'cause you forgot how to talk about that ex you technically never broke up with."

Sighing, Nik gestured toward the gaping hole in the shrubs. "Why're you here, Allie? On the other side of those bushes is my fiancée."

Ire narrowed his eyes, but it wasn't any glare that threatened my knees. An inner bomb, whose fuse had hissed away all night beneath nerves and hunger, exploded. "I was there at seven." A tear dripped from its shadowy corner and slithered along my jaw. "I sat alone for two hours waiting for you. When I paid a visit to your abandoned apartment, Mr. Wahler shot at me."

Even attempted murder didn't warm his expression.

"He attacked me, Logan."

Nothing.

I shuddered away the wretched devil's grin in my memory. Lacking wine to drench Nik, I squeezed his arm imploringly. If I had less class, I'd have popped him on the chin. "What the hell is wrong with you, leaving like that? Pretending like I was nobody, nothing to you. You were everything to me."

He shrugged me off, tugging at his tie. "That's what you needed to say?"

My mouth opened and closed, then out came, "Mom thinks I'm an idiot. Looks like you're finally on the same page." I didn't know why his hearing that mattered, but it did. What she thought of me mattered a lot more than I liked to let on. I didn't want to be her but I wanted to be like her and now I'd ruined that relationship defending what I had with Nik. "She's probably filing the paperwork to disown me as we speak."

"You shouldn't have come," he said, rubbing his neck. "It should be clear to you by now we're through. I don't want you."

"You don't mean that."

"You don't want me to mean that."

Blinking away tears, I leaned my head back against the glass paneling and glanced skyward. In my head I'd rehearsed this conversation what must've been a thousand times, but not once had the words disappeared. "We built our lives together. We planned a future—"

His finger brushed my lips. "Allie, stop."

I turned my cheek so he felt my tears. Instead, the cool silk of a handkerchief pressed into my palm. "You loved me," I said. "You sized a ring. What happened in one night to change your mind?"

Nik looked down at his feet. "Most relationships fail."

Wiped eyes stained the silk irreparably black. Rather than make a nasty return of it, I squeezed the handkerchief into a makeshift stress ball. "Was our relationship built on lies?" I asked, searching his blue eyes.

His cold and honest, "Yes" broke my heart. I moved to run, where,- I wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. I was going. Nik grabbed my arms faster than I could escape. "Listen to me," he pleaded, "had I known the ending I would never . . . I never wanted to do this to you, believe me."

"You ignored the press when they asked after us. You ignored me. Those two years happened, Logan, you know they did."

He stared into the wine glass. "It's a new year."

"Did you have any intention of contacting me?" His tight-lipped grimace confirmed my suspicions. I shut my eyes, afraid of what I'd see if they opened. "You're cruel."

His hands rattled my shoulders. His tone came on in a hot anger. "Walk away before you're dragged. I'm sorry about what happened, but it's better now than on our fourth anniversary, or fifth, or halfway through our marriage. Someday you'll be glad you got rid of me."

He was wrong, my heart insisted, wrong, wrong, wrong. There was no one I loved more than him, no one who'd ever made me so happy. No one knew me like he did. Even Becky didn't know some of the secrets I'd shared with him. I couldn't lose him, not like this.

"I won't," I whispered, hanging my head in shame at the words pouring from my mouth, words strong women don't say.

He paused, and in that weighted space passed a fleeting glimpse of something tender. He stared at the hare over my shoulder in almost taciturn reservation. "I love Annelise more than I ever loved or could love you."

"Liar," I declared, gathering my nerve.

His demeanor reddened. His eyes glistened. "This is for the best."

I jabbed my index finger into his chest. "This isn't you. Why are you acting like a dick?"

"You're delusional, emotional ..."

"I know you," I argued. "I love you."

He straightened as though preparing a defense, but his shoulders drooped and he stepped aside. "Look, I'm engaged to be married in the most important union in recent Norwegian history. So much business, money and politics hinge on this marriage's success." His lips pulled into a taut line. "Norway might hate you, but they should be thanking you. We'd be together if not for the genetic ancestry test you submitted against my wishes."

I froze. "You're saying, you're-the test caused this?"

"The database tagged and transferred my information to the proper authorities, who located me using your address and the university's student logs."

"Impossible." A single stupid test had not done this. No way. "Those results are confidential."

"Not if your mother is a queen with the vaults of Norway at her disposal. You have no idea how much money she spent keeping the door open for my return." He drew back one balled fist and connected with my reflection. I flinched. "One year. One year for the contract to be voided. A new heir would have been crowned in my stead and I would have been free."

A steady breeze dried my cheeks. "So you admit you ran away." He rubbed his mouth as though speaking implicated him in some way. Shoulders back, I stepped closer. "Why?"

He retreated into the starlight. "With help from my father, two brave citizens and their son, yes, I fled."

"Otto, Edgar, and Charles." That explained their disappearances, and why Charles always hung out at their penthouse. I'd assumed he came for their infinity pool; that's why Becky loved going over. "Where are they now?"

"Questioning in Akershus."

I hadn't visited yet, but every guidebook lauded the greystone palace by the sea as a historical gem, one of the must-see sites in Oslo. Then it dawned on me. "You're letting them take the fall, aren't you? For the supposed kidnapping."

Somewhere in the distance a DJ announced the first song. Nik jumped at the mellow voice. "I've got to get back. Anne will want a dance."

"Wait," I said. I hadn't come all this way to get more questions than answers. "You said your father helped you run away. What about your mother?"

He drummed his fingers on his thigh, rocked on his heels in indecision. "She doesn't know the truth," he began, "I can't break her heart."

"But you can kick mine to the corner? You can destroy your adopted family's life? You're not a kid anymore. You don't get to run away." Nocturnal zoo animals quieted at my rising voice. Niklas looked prepared to bolt, so I closed the distance and clasped his hand with an emphatic, "Not from me."

"Look," he said, biting his lip. "Three hundred and forty-seven more days. I would've told you after." He refused to meet my eyes, but I didn't force the matter. Instead I poured my regret into a soft palm squeeze.

"Come clean to your mother," I said. "She has to know."

"She'll hate me."

"She won't. Trust me, Logan."

"Niklas." A somber smile accompanied the correction.

"You're good at keeping secrets, apparently. Make one with her. Get Chuck and your dads out of this mess." In that moment I wanted to see his real smile one more time. My hip bumped his and I tested my nerves out on a thin smile. "You should have led with 'I'm a runaway prince.' I would've kept your secret."

Absently he caressed my wrist. Once he'd realized what he was doing he stopped. "My life is a circus. In not-knowing I thought you'd be safe."

"Instead we're here," I finished, staring into the luminous sky. On any other night the bottle green lights of a strong aurora evoked a sense of peace and wonder. Tonight, the blithe color taunted me.

"You gave me some of the best memories," Nik continued, voice several octaves lower than usual. He wiped his cheek.

The aurora and my heart pulsed as one. My head spun the way it did when I'd stood on top of Mt. Washington with my newly repaired knee. No more failures, I'd promised myself, searching the autumnal skyline for Boston's profile.

Nik's words—every person in love recognized them. I was about to be thrown off the emotional mountain we'd spent two years climbing. My stomach prepared for the inevitable fall, but I willed him to be silent, to say nothing more.

"If things were different, I would have married you."

"They can be." The glass stem seemed brittle in my hand. My reservoir of tears sprung a leak. "Tell your mother. Tell the truth. They can find a replacement, work something out."

"Allie." His palm pressed into my damp cheek. He touched his forehead to mine. Our lips were inches apart, a familiar distance we'd closed many times before. "Things aren't and never will be." He pulled away quicker than I rushed forward. In the heavy air my lips met broken promises. His hand slipped along my neck as he turned. "Goodbye."

The drink slipped from my hand, the tinkle of shattered glass the lone accompaniment to rustling leaves as he disappeared into the roses.

While I wanted to spring after him, my legs, conditioned to run a lot further than they'd walked since sundown, refused. The most I could do was touch my cheek where the warmth of his palm had already faded. Mascara inked my fingertips.

"Come back," I pleaded to the gap. But he didn't come and I couldn't go so I threw myself at the pond's edge, collapsed on muddy knees and stared into the shallows. My arms stung where the thorns had deposited tiny scratches. My nose was running; my dress frayed and hair filled with leaves. Onyx circles smeared my eyes.

"Fantastic," I muttered, using the backs of my thumbs to wipe the excess.

A guitar strum echoed across the pond. Niklas called his bride-to-be on stage.

The party may have just gotten started, but my night had ended. I wanted to go home, not to the apartment, not to my parents or Becky, but home to the cramped dorm, my hundred square feet of space where pointed no fingers once the door closed. The university was too far from the palace to walk, and past Johan's Gate the city layout was a mystery to me. No purse and no money eliminated a cab. The best solution was to pull it together long enough to slip through the garden and wait for Sal on the palace's grand staircase.

A dozen walkways led away from the zoo and hedged party. If I choose well, I had a chance to skirt the party instead of tramping through like an escaped raccoon. As I considered my options, a fat calico koi swam through the pond's echoed aurora and surfaced nearby, mouth popping open.

"You and me both," I said. "What I wouldn't give for a cheeseburger right now."

A crumb of bread flipped into its mouth as a hand tapped my shoulder.