“I’m Bellamy Wright.”
“I’m Emily Lids, the main housekeeper here. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, if you wouldn’t mind waiting here, I’ll be back shortly.” She pans her hands toward one of the sofas.
“Of course not,” I tell her. “I am so sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.” I feel like a broken record with the way I keep repeating myself, but I have no idea what else to say.
She waves me away. “I won’t even get into the trouble Sabrina has caused this week.”
I laugh, taking a seat on the sofa she indicated that faces a grand unlit fireplace, the mantle filled with pictures of the kids. “That’s very gracious of you to try to make me feel better.”
“You’re American? Canadian?”
“American. But please don’t hold that against me. I’m in trouble enough today.”
She smiles at my poor joke. “What part are you from? I can’t place your accent.”
“Boston. Born and raised.” Well, at least until I was thirteen.
Her eyes widen. “Is that where you went to university?”
“No. Actually, my father and I have been floating through Europe for the last several years after we lost my mother. We’ve been in Messalina for about four years now. I attended university here.”
“Oh.” Now her eyes are rounder than saucers and she’s scrutinizing me as if she’s sizing me up. “You graduated?”
“No. My father is unwell, as I said. He has dementia, which is why he was so confused and came here today. I had to drop out in my last year to help take care of him.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that about your father. I will be honest, we weren’t sure what was going on. He had been detained and the girls, well, they weren’t supposed to be anywhere near the first floor.”
“My father isn’t violent. I can promise, he’d never hurt anyone,” I assure her, twisting my hands nervously in my lap. “Please, I’d just like to take him home.”
“I understand. We’re simply looking into a few things.”
I half rise off the sofa. “Is he all right?”
“He’s absolutely fine. I promise.” She waves her hand at me, as if to settle me back down. “He walked in here carrying a toaster oven and then attempted to steal a metal disk off a table.”
“Jesus,” I hiss, covering my face with my hands, unable to stop myself from shaking. This is worse than I thought. “He thinks he’s inventing something. He told me he was going to take it to MIT, which is in Massachusetts, to sell.”
“Our security team is looking into it now. We have it all onvideo, so I’m sure it will be sorted soon enough. If you don’t mind me being so intrusive, what do you do for work?”
My hands fall to my lap with a loud clap, my insides roiling. I blow out an uneven sigh. “I’m an English teacher at a school in Tourin.”
“A teacher? How wonderful.” Then she gives me a smile I can’t read. One that makes her brown eyes sparkle as if she’s just come to some sort of conclusion. Hopefully not a bad one where I’m concerned. “Please wait here a moment, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
Then she’s gone, leaving me in the study. Which is frankly better than any library I’ve ever been in, except for the one at university.
I can’t resist getting up and gliding my fingers along the leather spines. Most of these books are early or first editions. Many of them are legal or historical books about this country and others in Europe and throughout the world. But there are a few standouts. Anthologies of Greek and Roman mythology are what catch my eye. I pull one out, flipping through the pages a bit. I have no idea how much time passes, but suddenly, the door flings open behind me.
I spin to find the king standing in the doorway, glaring daggers at me.
Oh. Shit.
4
SEBASTIAN
“Papa!”
