Adrenaline rushes through me, and I ball my hands into fists while resting my back against the cold stone. I take long breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth as I hear the queen’s muffled voice. Silence falls, and it’s followed by gasps. There’s a low roar of voices as I hear someone else speak. Louis maybe?
“Shit.” I grab my dress by the handful and push off the wall, needing to get lost.
Inside my bra is the key to Louis’s loft, and I rush toward the east wing. As I go, I think about who was in attendance and how manypeople will post this on social media. I didn’t warn him, and right now, I have no idea if he’ll thank me or hate me for this.
The door bursts open and slams against the wall.
“Addison!”
I glance over my shoulder and see Louis rushing toward me. His hair is wrecked, and he’s moving fast. He closes the distance within thirty seconds. I brace myself for the worst.
As soon as I open my mouth to explain, he grabs my face between his hands and kisses me.
I freeze for half a second, but his mouth is warm and urgent. My body reacts before my brain does. I grab fistfuls of his jacket to keep myself upright because my legs have stopped working. When he pulls back just enough to look at me, he’s breathing hard.
He stares at me, cycling through shock, confusion, fear. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”
“Committed treason with art?” My voice aims for light but comes out shaky and full of nerves.
He lets out a laugh that sounds almost unhinged. “You stunned a room of two hundred people into silence.”
“Are you upset with me?” I blink up at him.
The question hangs between us.
His thumbs trace across my cheekbones, and he shakes his head. The dazed look reveals something sweeter. Louis laughs. “Upset with you? Fuck no. You’ve officially become the bravest person I’ve ever met. You just … you unapologetically painted what you wanted regardless of the consequences.”
“Isn’t that what art is supposed to do? Change things?” My voice is steadier now. “Seemed more efficient than a speech.”
“I’d say so.” He’s smiling, the one I’ve only seen when we’re alone. “That was such a Cross move.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
“You should.” He laughs. “Let’s just hope history is kind to us.”
The ballroom doors crash open again. Guards flood into the corridor, and the queen’s voice rises over the chaos, demanding someone stop us. Louis looks back at the commotion and then at me, and a shit-eating grin spreads across his face.
“Can you run?” he asks, grabbing my hand.
“Wait,” I tell him, kicking off my heels and scooping them up.
We sprint down the corridor, and the marble is cold under my bare feet. Just as we round a corner, another guard shouts at us. We’re being surrounded, but Louis runs down another hallway.
“This is a terrible escape plan,” I manage between breaths as my dress tangles around my legs. “We can’t run away from our problems.”
“Tonight, we can. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”
He pulls me through a service door, and suddenly, we’re in a narrow passage with pipes and concrete and humming electrical panels.
The glamour of the palace vanishes, replaced by flickering fluorescent lights and the smell of industrial cleaner. Louis doesn’t slow down as he guides me left, then right, until we’re deeper into the guts of the palace. We pass through a kitchen, where staff in white uniforms look up from prep work, eyes going wide at the sight of the crown prince sprinting through with a barefoot woman in a ball gown.
“Carry on,” he says. “Please.”
Louis doesn’t stop to explain, just keeps moving, and my face hurts from grinning so much.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we bust through some double doors.
“Somewhere secret.” He glances over at me.
