“Nothing to worry about,” I assure her with a tight smile I’m positive she can see through. “Just a small issue back home we can discuss later.”
“Okay,” she says, relief washing over her face as she leans in for a brief kiss. “Now come on, we’ve got some splashing to do!”
I return her smile and dive back into the blissful chaos of our family’s laughter. The world beyond the waves can wait until tomorrow.
Only that doesn’t happen. My phone starts ringing at midnight. A strike is imminent, which means we’re flying home tomorrow so I can handle it. Plus, I think Rowan is anxious to get back and dive deeper into the fingerprints and find the woman who stole Desta from us.
By the time we get everything going, the children all packed up, and finally make landfall—because we will never fly in a fucking helicopter—it’s sometime just after dawn. The children are yawning and rightfully complaining. Bellamy is quiet and sleepy, her head on my shoulder as we drive to the private airport in Italy.
The drive isn’t very long, and by the time we get there and get underway, the sun is climbing high in the sky. The children are on their tablets and Bellamy is half asleep, still resting on me. Althea has been working on her laptop pretty much since I woke her. She’s trying to get a bead on the strike, but right now, I have more of a pressing question. She wasn’t living in the palace at the time, but I’m curious if she remembers anything.
“Althea?”
“Mmm?” she questions without looking up from her screen.
“Do you remember Marie Elonaise?”
She pauses, her head tilting as if she’s searching her mind. “It sounds familiar, but I’m not sure I can place the name. Who is she?”
“The woman whose fingerprints were lifted off the newspaper clippings we found in the abandoned cottage.”
She freezes, her eyes growing wide. “Why do I know her name then?”
“Because she used to work in the palace as the assistant to the royal guard.”
“Under Sir Lawrence?”
Rowan and I exchange glances. “Sir Lawrence? As in the current head of the royal guard?”
“He has been for more than thirty years. Sebastian, you should know this.” I get a reprimanding look and she’s not wrong. I should know how long the head of the royal guard has held that post, but I didn’t realize it. I rarely see him personally and didn’t piece it together.
“So he’d know what happened to her?”
She shrugs. “Potentially. I only remember the name. I couldn’t tell you anything about this person. Have you asked your mother?”
“She’s the one who told us Elara was a servant. She clearly lied when she said she didn’t know anything about the woman other than her name,” Rowan supplies.
Althea gives a weary sigh. “Right. That’s off-putting.”
“It makes no sense,” I continue. “I knew who Marie was and I was just a boy. Why is she continuing to hide information on the woman who stole Desta?”
Althea shakes her head. “I have no idea. I was surprised she admitted to what happened with the woman in the first place. Between her and your father and then with the tiara. But she’s obviously hiding more, and I can’t tell you why she didn’t want you to know other than it must be something big.”
“Should we confront her again?” Rowan questions.
“I’d see how far you can get without her,” Bellamy murmurs softly. “She already tried to mislead you with this Elara nonsense, and she didn’t know you found the newspaper clippings. She doesn’t want you to find the woman.”
“No, she doesn’t.” I clear my throat and look at both Rowan and Althea. “I’d like your thoughts on having Javier privately look into our mother.”
I’m treated to dead silence. The only sound is the gentle humming of the airplane engines.
“I’m in favor of it,” Rowan states lowly. “Even if it doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Same,” Althea agrees.
“Belle?” I question, tossing out her new nickname.
She shakes her head against my shoulder, her eyes still closed. “I’m not part of that decision.”
