She leans forward. “Tell me about this key of yours! Why is it important? Why do you think I know something that will help you find it?”
I can’t tell her the whole truth without revealing the existence of my secret country, but I’ll try to lie as little as possible.
She cuts in as I open my mouth, “Please don’t lie! I hate lies. If there’s something you really can’t share for a good reason, just say so.”
“Works for me.”
I drink some water while Darrel’s excited gaze shifts between Elise and me. Knowing him, he’s eager to see how I’ll tackle Elise’s challenge, and he looks as if I were about to deliver some master class.
At times, I think that man has so much faith in me it’s unhealthy. Twenty-eight to my thirty-six, Sir Darrel Vlovsky is a former special ops commander and a decorated knight in the service of the House of Valois-Montevor. He’s been my personal attendant and main bodyguard for the last three years. I would’ve said “only three years,” but I feel as if I had him longer than that. I’ve come to rely on him more than Roberto or Jordan or any other attendant I’ve had. If he suddenly quit, I’d be lost.
I level my eyes with Elise’s. “Since you don’t want me to lie, I can’t tell you how I know that you can help me.”
She pouts.
I smile, well aware it doesn’t look like a smile. “But I can tell you about the key.”
“I’m listening.”
“It’s one of the nine medieval keys that together open a space in my family home that we call the ‘impenetrable vault.’”
She squints at me. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. My siblings found two of the keys, and I’m out looking for the third. Time is of the essence.”
“What happens if you don’t find it?”
“If we fail to acquire the seven remaining keys to open the vault and retrieve a legal document inside by autumn of next year, then we lose our home.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Darrel sitting tall and eyeing Elise triumphantly, as if he’s burning to tell her,See how he did it? He’s good!
I must admit I am rather pleased with how I summed up our predicament without mentioning Mount Evor or making the impenetrable vault sound like a joke. Nor did I get into the messy story of Kurt Ozzi’s fake addendum to the Treaty of Pombrio and the real addendum we’re hoping to find in order to invalidate Kurt’s fake and save the country, including all its citizens’ homes, bank accounts, and livelihoods. Elise doesn’t need to know any of it.
Someone raps on the door and Darrel rushes to open it.
Two servers roll in a trolley each. They do a clever trick with the coffee table, which makes it bigger, and then they set it for three. The food looks appetizing. One of the servers opens a wine bottle and pours some into my glass. I taste it and nod that it’s good. They fill our glasses and head to the exit. Darrel catches up with them by the door and tips them, eliciting happy thank-yous.
“Wow,” Elise says, picking up a canapé. “This is the most luxurious table I’ve ever seen.”
She bites into her appetizer. “Honestly, I expected more from caviar.”
“First time?” Darrel asks her.
She nods. “It’s not all it’s touted to be.”
“How about some salmon eggs?” I point at a respective finger sandwich.
She beams. “With pleasure! I love it.”
When she gets to the ceviche, she declares that the hotel’s chef is excellent and she forgives him for the failure of the caviar to meet her overblown expectations.
So far, so good.I was hoping that a fine dinner will help her relax around me, and it seems to have done the trick.
“Speaking of chefs,” I say. “Do you know any?”
She looks up. “Like, in person?”
“Yes.”
