Her gray eyes survey me. “Will you be free for a late dinner after the service, Your Highness?”
“I’m afraid I have a prior appointment,” I say.
She smiles. “Of course.”
I incline my head. “I’ll be in touch.”
Taking her cue, she curtsies and heads toward Darrel’s sister to offer her condolences.
Mother takes her place. “It was a beautiful tribute.”
“Thank you.”
She moves closer. “I spoke to Richard before coming here.”
“About what?”
“The investigation into Carlo Bodden-Bock.”
“And?” I ask. “What’s the latest?”
Carlo, the former head of Mount Evor’s Secret Service, resigned immediately after the helicopter crash. He claims he’s not the mole, and he has no idea who is. But to the investigators, he’s the prime suspect.
“They’ve found nothing so far,” Mother says. “Either he’s clean, or—more likely—too good to leave evidence behind.”
“How’s the next the revelation coming along? It’s been over a month.”
“I know!” She grimaces in frustration. “Nothing yet.”
With only six months left and six more keys to retrieve for a chance to find the authentic addendum to the Treaty of Pombrio and save the principality, the pressure is high.
The odds aren’t in our favor. We know it. Kurt knows it.
Yesterday, he sent me a message.
You won this match. But I’ll win the battle. Your family must find all six remaining keys to have a shot. All I need to do is intercept just one.
He’d have to snatch it before a copy could be made, obviously. But he’s right on the substance. His job is much easier than ours. If I were an outsider betting on the outcome of this battle, I’d place my bet on him.
As I stare at the flames of the dozens of candles lit for Darrel, another message I received yesterday comes to mind. It was much longer than Kurt’s.
Our agent in Monaco who’s in charge of Elise’s safety had some good news to report. The operation to help the French police corner Doc was a success. Multiple charges of a serious nature were pressed. He’s now waiting in jail before his case goes to trial, and then he’ll be locked up again for years.
Speaking of which, my men also keep an eye on Elise’s brother. Gilles hasn’t gambled once since his ignominious deal with Doc. And Kurt hasn’t picked up Elise’s trail in Monaco.
In his report, my agent also covered how she’s been getting on with her life, leaving me conflicted. Elise hasn’t thrived in her new environment. She hasn’t made friends or joined any groups or clubs. She’s politely declined all her neighbors’ invitations. She sent an application to a glassblowing studio in the area. They interviewed her but didn’t hire her in the end. She hikes every day alone. The only activity that forces her to socialize is volunteering at the animal shelter.
A week ago, she called me. I didn’t answer. She texted, “Please call me back, I just want to talk.” I didn’t respond. She’s still hung up on me, perhaps even imagining herself heartbroken. It would be irresponsible to encourage her in that path. I want her to move on, there’s no doubt about that.
But, if I’m entirely honest, I can’t deny that a selfish, primitive part of me is thrilled she hasn’t done so yet. It’ll happen, I’m sure. It’s just taking a little longer than I thought. On both sides.
Max, Gigi, and Lucie express their sympathy. They all know how much Darrel meant to me. Ignoring protocol, Gigi throws her arms around me.
As they share good memories about Darrel, I let my mind wander. My gaze still riveted to the votive candles, I’m staring at the flames, almost hypnotized, when I notice Roberto making his way to me through the crowd of mourners. He has a weird look on his face. Even before he opens his mouth, I feel light-headed. There isn’t enough air in the chapel. My royal uniform is too tight, constricting my lungs. The ringing in my ears makes it hard to make out Roberto’s words. He repeats them. My vision blurs as their meaning sinks in.
“I’m afraid I have bad news, Your Highness…” He eyes me anxiously.
“Spit it out,” I manage, suffocating.
