“Fuck yes, I do,” I tell him.
“There’s a service tunnel under the east wing that comes out nearthe old groundskeeper’s cottage, past the main security perimeter.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “The cameras don’t cover that section because it’s technically outside the palace grounds.”
My fingers tighten on the doorframe because I’m aware of the tunnel, I’ve just never accessed it.
“Shift change is at two in the morning, and there’s a short window when the guards switch positions, and no one watches the east corridor.” He straightens his posture and fixes his gaze forward again, every inch the professional guard. “We’ll have to be quick.”
“You’re the best,” I say.
“You should know I’m terrified,” he tells me, even though his voice is perfectly steady. “But I’ve spent the entire summer watching you risk everything for Addison.” He swallows. “I’d rather risk treason than spend the rest of my career wondering what would have happened had I helped you.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Your Highness. This could be a disaster.” He exhales. “Please get some rest. We have a long night ahead of us.”
I close the door and glance at the clock. There are seven hours until the shift change.
32
LOUIS
At 1:53 a.m., the voices outside my door stop.
I grab my duffel bag and move to the door, listening as the heavy footsteps fade away. The shift change is happening right on schedule, like Davis said.
Seconds later, a soft knock taps against the door.
It cracks open, and Davis is standing in dark clothes instead of his usual uniform. His face is barely visible in the dim hallway. He puts a finger to his lips and jerks his head toward the corridor. I slip out and pull the door shut behind me with a soft click.
The hallway stretches in both directions.
“Three minutes forty seconds,” he whispers, checking his watch. “Stay close.”
We move fast, keeping our footsteps light. On the way out, we pass the portrait of my grandfather that I’ve walked by a thousand times. There’s a large antique vase my grandmother imported from China, and the hallway that leads to Delphine’s wing. I take it all in, knowing I might never see any of this again. It doesn’t devastate me in the way it should.
Davis stops at the corner, and I freeze as footsteps approach from the left corridor.
He grabs my arm and pulls me through a door I didn’t notice, into a closet that smells like cleaner. Shelves of supplies press against myback as Davis eases the door shut. The space is tight, and his breathing stays slow and controlled, while mine wants to race.
A guard appears in the sliver of light under the door. He’s humming something under his breath as the precious seconds drag by. He stops outside the door, and I know if he finds us in here, it’s over. I’ll be dragged back to my chambers, and my mother will double the guards, and I’ll never get another chance. Not to mention what she’d do to Davis.
Thirty seconds pass, then forty, and he types something on his phone. Fifty seconds later, the guard yawns loudly. This motherfucker is wasting our time, and the window will close. After a minute, his footsteps continue, and so does his off-key humming.
Davis exhales and checks his watch. “Two minutes.”
We slip out of the closet and jog toward the service stairs at the end of a corridor. The air gets cooler as we approach. Davis punches a code into the keypad, and the door clicks open, revealing a narrow stairwell, lit by a single flickering bulb.
“Three flights,” he whispers. “Ninety seconds left.”
We take the stairs two at a time; our footsteps clap against the concrete, no matter how carefully we move. At the bottom, there’s another door with another keypad. Davis enters a code, and the light stays red, so he tries again, pressing each number deliberately, but the light stays red.
“Shit.” His jaw tightens. “They changed it.”
“When?”
“Recently, because this code worked last week.”
He pulls out his phone and scrolls through backup codes, his face illuminated by the screen. We have maybe sixty seconds until the guards are in position, maybe less.
