You are being provided with a book chapter by chapter. I will request you to read the book for me after each chapter. After reading the chapter, 1. shorten the chapter to no less than 300 words and no more than 400 words. 2. Do not change the name, address, or any important nouns in the chapter. 3. Do not translate the original language. 4. Keep the same style as the original chapter, keep it consistent throughout the chapter. Your reply must comply with all four requirements, or it’s invalid.
I will provide the chapter now.

12
RHYS
I SENSED TROUBLE BEFORE I EVEN ENTERED THE PALACE’S RECEPTION
hall, where I heard Prince Nikolai talking in low murmurs. The hairs
on the back of my neck prickled, and though I couldn’t make out
what Bridget’s brother was saying, the stressed pitch of his voice set
alarms blaring in my head.
My boots squeaked against the reception hall’s overly polished
marble floors, and Nikolai fell silent. He stood in the middle of the
soaring two-story space next to Elin and Viggo, the Deputy Head of
Royal Security. I’d memorized every staff member’s face and name
so I would notice if anyone tried to sneak in by disguising them-
selves as a palace employee.
I gave the group a curt nod. “Your Highness.”
“Mr. Larsen.” Nikolai responded with a regal nod of his own. “I
trust you’re enjoying your day off?”
Since the palace was so heavily guarded, I was off the clock when
Bridget was at home, which was most days since her grandfather’s
hospitalization. It felt strange. I was so used to being by her side
twenty-four-seven I…
You do not miss her. I dismissed the ridiculous idea before it be-
came a fully formed thought.
“It’s been fine.” I’d tried drawing again, but I hadn’t gotten much
further than a few lines on paper. I ran out of creativity, inspiration—
whatever you call it—months ago, and today had been my first time
picking up my sketchbook since.
I’d needed something to occupy my hands and mind.
Something that wasn’t five-nine with the face of an angel and
curves that would fit perfectly beneath my palms.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I hardened my jaw, determined not to fantasize about my fucking
client in front of her brother. Or ever.
“Where’s Princess Bridget?” According to her schedule, she was
supposed to be horseback riding with Nikolai. But the skies looked
ready to pour, so I assumed they’d called it a day early.
Nikolai exchanged glances with Elin and Viggo, and the needle
on my trouble radar inched closer to the red zone.
“I’m sure Her Highness is somewhere in the palace,” Viggo said.
He was a short, heavyset man with a ruddy face and a passing re-
semblance to a Scandinavian Danny DeVito. “We’re looking for her
as we speak.”
The needle pushed past the red zone into the white-hot emer-
gency zone. “What do you mean, you’re looking for her?” My voice
remained calm, but alarm and anger bubbled in my stomach. “I
thought she was with you, Your Highness.”
Elin glared at Viggo. She didn’t have to speak for me to hear her
scream, Viggo, you idiot.
Whatever was happening, I wasn’t supposed to know about it.
Nikolai shifted his weight, discomfort sliding across his face.
“She was, but we got into an argument and she, ah, took off while
we were riding.”
“How long ago?” I didn’t give a damn if I sounded disrespectful.
It was a personal safety issue, and I was Bridget’s bodyguard. I had a
right to know what happened.
Nikolai’s discomfort visibly increased. “An hour ago.”
The anger erupted, edging out the alarm by a hair. “An hour ago?
And no one thought to call me?”
“Watch your tone, Mr. Larsen,” Elin admonished. “You’re speak-
ing to the Crown Prince.”
“I’m aware.” Elin could take her glares and shove them up her
ass along with the stick permanently residing there. “No one has
seen the princess since?”
“A groundskeeper found her horse,” Viggo said. “We took it back
to—”
“Found her horse.” A vein pulsed in my forehead. “Meaning she
wasn’t riding it and she hadn’t returned it to the stables herself.” No
matter how angry she was, Bridget would never leave an animal be-
hind. Something had happened to her. Panic grated against my in-
sides as I bit out, “Tell me. Have you searched the grounds, or just
the palace?”
“Her Highness wouldn’t be out there,” Viggo blustered. “It’s
storming! She’s inside—”
“Unless she fell off her horse and is unconscious somewhere.” Je-
sus, how the hell had he risen to the deputy security chief position?
There were hamsters with more brains than him.
“Bridget is an excellent equestrian, and we have a few people
searching outside. She could’ve run off to one of her hiding places.
She used to do that as a kid.” Nikolai looked at Viggo. “But Mr.
Larsen’s right. It doesn’t hurt to be extra thorough. Shall we send ex-
tra men to check the grounds?”
“If you wish, Your Highness. I’ll draw up the quadrants…”
Un-fucking-believable.
I was halfway out the door before Viggo finished his moronic
sentence. Too bad the Head of Security, who was actually competent,
was on vacation because his deputy was a goddamned idiot. By the
time he finished drawing his quadrants, Bridget could be seriously
hurt.
“Where are you going?” Elin called after me.
“To do my job.”
I picked up my pace, cursing the size of the palace as I sprinted
toward the closest door leading outdoors. By the time I hit the
grounds, my panic had escalated into full-blown terror. Thunder
boomed so loud it rattled the door as I shut it behind me, and it was
raining so hard the gardens and fountains blurred in front of me.
The estate was too large for me to search it all by myself, so I had
to be strategic. My best bet would be to start at the official horseback
riding trail in the southeast corner and go from there, though the
rain would’ve washed away any hoofprints by now.
Luckily, the palace had a fleet of motorized carts to ferry guests
around the grounds, and I made it to the riding trail in ten minutes
instead of the half hour it would’ve taken me on foot.
“Come on, princess, where are you?” I muttered, my eyes strain-
ing to see past the thick sheet of water slanting through the air.
Images of Bridget lying on the ground, her body twisted and bro-
ken, flashed through my mind. My skin turned ice cold, and the
wheel slipped against my sweaty palms.
If anything happened to her, I would murder Viggo. Slowly.
I scoured the trails, but twenty minutes later, I still hadn’t found
her, and I was getting desperate. She could be indoors, but my gut
told me she wasn’t, and my gut was never wrong.
Maybe she was in an area the cart couldn’t reach. It wouldn’t
hurt to check.
I killed the engine and jumped out, ignoring the harsh sting of
raindrops on my skin.
“Bridget!” The rain swallowed her name, and I let out a low
curse. “Bridget!” I tried again, my boots sinking into the muddy
ground as I searched the area near the trail. The rain plastered my
shirt and pants to my skin, making it hard to move, but I’d weath-
ered worse than a puny thunderstorm as a SEAL.
I wasn’t giving up until I found her.
I was about to move on to a different section of the grounds
when I spotted a flash of blonde out of the corner of my eye. My
heart tripped, and I froze for half a beat before I sprinted toward her.
Please let it be her.
It was.
I sank onto my knees by her side, my chest hollowing at the pale-
ness of Bridget’s face and the large, purplish bruise on her forehead.
A small trickle of blood dripped down the side of her face, turning
pink when it mingled with the rain. She was unconscious and com-
pletely soaked through.
A snarling, protective beast rose in my chest with such ferocity it
stunned me.
Viggo was as good as dead. If he hadn’t dragged his feet, if some-
one had fucking called me and told me Bridget was missing…
I forced myself to push the anger aside for now. I had more im-
portant things to focus on.
I checked her pulse, which was weak but steady. Thank God. I
quickly scanned the rest of her for signs of injury. Normal breathing,
no broken limbs, and no blood except for the cut on her forehead.
Her helmet was askew, and dirt smeared her cheeks and clothes.
The beast in my chest snarled again, ready to rip not only Viggo
but Nikolai to shreds for not protecting her, or at least being there for
her.
He probably couldn’t have done anything to prevent Bridget
from falling off her horse—judging by her helmet and position on
the ground, that must’ve been what happened—but the beast didn’t
care. All it knew was she was hurt, and for that, someone had to pay.
Later.
I needed to get her to the doctor first.
I cursed again when I realized I had no cell service. The storm
must’ve knocked it out.
Standard medical advice said I shouldn’t move an injured person
without professionals present, but I had no choice.
I scooped Bridget up in my arms and carried her to the cart, sup-
porting her neck with one hand. We made it halfway when I heard a
low groan.
My heart tripped again. “Princess, you awake?” I kept my voice
even, not wanting to panic and scare her.
Bridget let out another groan, her eyes fluttering open. “Mr.
Larsen? What are you doing? What happened?” She tried to twist
her head to look around, but I stopped her with a firm squeeze on
her thigh.
“You’re injured. Don’t move unless you absolutely have to.” We
reached the cart, and I set her carefully in the passenger seat before I
took the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. Relief flooded my
veins, so thick it almost choked me.
She was okay. She might have a concussion, judging by the
bruise, but she was conscious and talking and alive.
“Do you remember what happened?” I wanted to speed back to
the palace, which had an in-house doctor, but I forced myself to
drive slowly to minimize any bumps and jerky movements.
Bridget touched her forehead with a wince. “I was riding and…
there was a branch. I didn’t see it until it was too late.” She squeezed
her eyes shut. “My head hurts, and everything’s blurry.”
Dammit. Concussion for sure.
My hands strangled the wheel, which I pictured as Viggo’s neck.
“We’ll be at the palace soon. For now, just relax and don’t force your-
self to talk.”
Of course, she didn’t listen.
“How did you find me?” Bridget spoke slower than usual, and
the faint note of pain in her voice made my stomach lurch.
“I looked.” I parked the cart near the back entrance. “You should
fire your deputy security chief. He’s a moron. If I hadn’t found you,
he’d still have his people searching the inside of the palace like—
what?”
“How long did you look for me?” Bridget gave me a strange
look, one that made my heart twist in the oddest way.
“Don’t remember,” I grunted. “Let’s get you inside. You’re
soaked.”
“So are you.” She stayed in the cart. “Did you…you looked for
me in the rain by yourself?”
“Like I said, Viggo is a moron. Inside, princess. You need that cut
and bruise looked at. You probably have a concussion.”
“I’m okay.” But Bridget didn’t argue when I slipped my arm
around her waist and her arm around my neck, letting her use me as
a crutch as we walked inside.
Luckily, the doctor’s office wasn’t too far from the back entrance,
and when she saw the state Bridget was in, she sprang into action.
While she patched Bridget’s forehead up and gave her a more
thorough check for injuries, I dried off in the bathroom and waited
in the hall. I didn’t trust myself not to look at Bridget’s bruise and
cut and not lose my shit.
The sound of rapid footsteps filled the hall, and my lip peeled
back in a snarl when I saw Nikolai running toward me, followed by
Viggo and Elin. One of the staff must’ve alerted them when they saw
me and Bridget.
Perfect. I needed to let off some steam.
“Is Bridget okay?” the prince asked, his face worried.
“For the most part. The doctor’s checking her out now.” I waited
until Nikolai was inside the doctor’s office before I turned my atten-
tion to Viggo.
“You.” I grabbed the collar of Viggo’s shirt and lifted him until his
feet dangled in the air. “I told you she was outside. Any damn person
with common sense would know she was outside, yet you wasted
an hour searching indoors while Bridget was unconscious in the
rain.”
“Mr. Larsen!” Elin sounded scandalized. “This is the royal palace,
not a dive bar where you brawl with other patrons. Put Viggo
down.”
I ignored her and lowered my voice until only Viggo could hear
me. “You better pray the princess isn’t seriously hurt.”
“Are you threatening me?” he sputtered.
“Yes.”
“I could fire you.”
I bared my teeth in a semblance of a smile. “Try.”
The Head of Royal Security oversaw my contract, but Viggo
couldn’t find a way out of his ass if someone planted neon lights
marking the way, much less fire me without his boss’s approval.
I released Viggo’s collar and set him on the ground when the doc-
tor’s door opened.
“Mr. Larsen, Viggo, Elin.” If she suspected there’d been a scuffle
outside her office, she didn’t show it. “I’ve finished the checkup.
Come in.”
My anger at Viggo took a backseat to my concern over Bridget as
we crowded into the mini clinic, where Bridget sat on the hospital
bed. She didn’t look happy to see Nikolai, who stood next to her
with a tight expression.
The doctor informed us Bridget did, indeed, have a concussion,
but she should recover in ten to fourteen days. She also had a mild
wrist sprain and the beginnings of a nasty cold. Nothing life-threat-
ening, but she would be uncomfortable for the next few weeks.
I glared at Viggo, who shrank behind Nikolai like a coward.
I stayed after everyone else left, and the doctor took one look at
my face before murmuring an excuse and slipping out the door,
leaving me and Bridget alone.
“I’m fine,” Bridget said before I could open my mouth. “A few
weeks of rest and I’ll be good as new.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, unconvinced. “What the hell
happened? Nikolai said you ran off after you two got in an
argument.”
Her face shut down. “Sibling squabble. It was nothing.”
“Bullshit. You don’t run off in anger.”
Not to mention, Bridget hadn’t spoken to him once while he was
in the room, which was telling. She would never ignore her brother
unless he’d really pissed her off.
“There’s a first time for everything,” she said.
A frustrated growl rose in my throat. “Dammit, princess, you
need to be more careful. If something happened to you, I—” I broke