“In other words, you have no clue why he’s had her in his quarters all day, do you? You expect me to report assumptions when the master demands facts?”
Aldo had been pacing in agitation, but now swung back to demand, “Tell me more about the woman. How old is she?”
“Young.”
“Eighteen years young?”
“She could be that, yes.”
“The bastard!” Aldo exclaimed angrily. “He didn’t kill the princess! He waited until she was grown and he’s brought her back. Go tell the master,” he ordered the hooded man. “We shall see what he wants to do about this.”
“You make more assumptions than anyone,” the hooded man said in disgust. “He’s not the master, fool. He’s just another lackey like you.”
“You dare!” Aldo said in an outraged tone. “You answer to me!”
“Not anymore.”
Leonard grit his teeth as he watched his target slump to the floor. In a brief silence, the two remaining men stared at the corpse at their feet.
The soldier finally asked, “Why did you do that?”
“Because I was ordered to. He was old. He was stupid. He’s made one too many mistakes. Just by his manner, thinking himself too important, Aldo made his own enemies. He became a liability.”
“But what Aldo just said about that old job that . . . might not have been finished, you aren’t going to just ignore that, are you?”
“A wild guess on his part, and irrational, if that old assassin was as good as Aldo touted.”
“Is that what you really think?”
“I don’t discount any possibility just because one looks more obvious than another, something you and Rainier need to start doing if you don’t want to end up like Aldo. The young woman in question could have come to the palace merely to report her jewelry stolen, and as Aldo suggested, the captain could merely be humoring her until he’s off duty. Rainier could even be wrong about the inscription on that bracelet. Does he even know how to read?”
“I never asked. But as long as you’re covering all possibilities, the young woman could be the next queen.”
The hooded man laughed mirthlessly. “Quick learner. You might not be of Aldo’s ilk, after all.”
“What about him?” the guard nudged Aldo’s leg. “Shouldn’t we bury him?”
“Why bother? I never liked this old building as a meeting place anyway, it’s too big and has too many hiding places. Return to the palace. You will be notified tomorrow of a new meeting place—and what our employer has to say about all of this.”
Leonard didn’t move until he heard the front door click closed, then he rushed out the back door and came around the corner of the warehouse just in time to see the two men part ways at the end of the street. He needed to follow the hooded man now. He was going to have to get word to Alana tomorrow to warn her to be on guard, that cronies of the people who wanted her dead might now think she was still alive—because of that bracelet.
Leonard wished she hadn’t reported it stolen, but she must have needed to use it as proof for the captain of the guard. If she had taken him into her confidence, why wouldn’t he believe her? It was absurd to think he’d imprisoned her, but Leonard couldn’t completely discount that possibility, either, though he would find that out for certain tomorrow. But it was much more likely that the captain was just being cautious and thorough in his questioning, and rightly so. He preferred to think the captain had believed Alana and was protecting her by not letting her out of his sight.
Chapter Twenty-One
ALANA REALIZED THAT CHRISTOPH Becker was a chameleon, able to change his colors before her very eyes.
She didn’t exactly like the hard-nosed captain she’d spent most of the day with. He wasn’t at all open-minded as he’d claimed he would be. He could frustrate her to the point of screaming. But he’d given her a boon when he’d assured her that she had his protection, so she didn’t think he could frighten her again—she hoped. And as long as he kept to a civil tone, she could deal with him.
She didn’t like the seducer either. He destroyed her calm in other ways. She couldn’t even think when he showed up.
She’d liked the charming man she’d first met in the palace’s anteroom, though. Maybe a little too much. But he’d disappeared . . . and would probably never return.
But this one, the coarse mountain brute, she liked the least of all. He offended her, shocked her, thought nothing of treating her like a woman of loose morals instead of the lady she was. Sitting there with his feet on the table, suggesting she sit on his lap to entertain him, good God, he infuriated her!
She couldn’t keep the contempt out of her tone when she said, “I’ll allow that Lubinian aristocrats aren’t the gentlemen I’m accustomed to, but must you be so vulgar?”
“If you’re trying to insult me, wench, you’ll have to do better than that.”
