Leighton started. “How would I know?”
“You’ve lived here?—”
“Yes, in a dungeon until a week ago, then we were in Paris for three days. I’ve never been to any gardens.”
“I thought you were leading us there.”
“I thought you—” She snapped her mouth closed at the sight of the crown prince emerging from the other side of the atrium that yawned between them. With a gasp, she realized where they were. “Back!”
“What?”
“We have to go back.”
Apollo glanced across the atrium. “Who is that? I saw him last night?—”
“The crown prince,” she said staring at the floor. “You brought us to the royal apartments—we have to leave. Now.”
“That sounds bad.”
“You have no idea.” She pivoted to return to her room, walking faster. Wanted to run. Did not want an encounter with Maaz and end up with another split lip. When she saw Prince Nasir round a corner ahead, she tensed and slammed her gaze down.
Apollo held a hand in front of her, stopping. “Excuse me, Your Highness. Could you help us?”
No no no. Why on earth was he talking to Nasir?
“What?” Nasir bit out.
“First day on the job. Can you tell me how to get to the gardens?” Apollo asked.
Despite the silence that lingered, Leighton knew better than to look up. In fact, she eased behind Apollo, who seemed to read her cue and shifted to block her from the prince.
“Prince Rayan told me to take her out,” Apollo persisted, “and since the king has put me in charge of her, I want to carry out my duties efficiently.”
With a huff, Prince Nasir shook his head. “Back down the side hall, take the stairs, then turn left. Door is at the end of the hall.”
“Thank you,” Apollo said as he stepped aside and urged her toward the passage.
Leighton seized the chance to escape unscathed and strode toward the door he’d mentioned.
Owen hustled ahead of her and pushed open the door. They followed Prince Nasir’s instructions and found the garden without trouble. Stepping into the sunshine was glorious, and she inhaled deeply.
“So, the crown prince?—”
“Not here,” she hissed, yanked out of savoring the day. With determination, she paced to the far hedgerow and surreptitiously glanced back. Noticed that while the armed guards watched from the upper terraces, they were not overly concerned. And there did not seem to be anyone else nearby. Using a tall, thin tree to block herself, she whirled on him. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Apollo drew up sharp. “Whoa. Way to whip out Cruella.”
She would not be diverted, no matter how much that hurt. “Why’re you here? Tell me Paris was a coincidence.”
“I could,” he said quietly, glancing around, “but I don’t make it a habit to lie.”
“Don’t you?” she challenged. “Apollo.”
He smirked. “Callsign.”
Leighton felt the tendrils of anger wrapping around her heart. “Do you think this is a joke?”
After another quick scan of the gardens, he focused on her. “Your mom and Navas sent me.”
