Oh, come on, Marie-Louise!You know enough, and you’re smart enough to connect the dots.
Mother sets my cup down with a precision that could cut glass. “Let’s just say, things between us began to sour.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Mother was all but ordered to part company with Nicolas. It must’ve been hard, because she really liked him, but she complied. And she was gracious about it. No one has heard her complain or accuse Adam Von Dietz of overreaching since the breakup.
She knows, as we all do, that he acts in the best interest of the royal family. His ultimate goal is to shield us from our nemesis Kurt, the all-powerful and überinfluential Swiss billionaire hell-bent on stripping Mount Evor of statehood. To protect us, Adam’s immediate objective is to identify and neutralize the mole that’s been feeding information to Kurt.
Well, I hope he finds that mole soon!
Mother and Marie-Louise talk for a little longer. Mother all but ignores my presence. It looks like she doesn’t wish to discuss the urgent matter she called me for while Marie-Louise is here.
My mind keeps drifting. The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall makes me sleepy. I struggle to keep my eyes open and pretend I’m interested in what Marie-Louise has to say.
Finally, Mother slightly changes her posture and tone, sending a subtle signal that the tea party is over. Marie-Louise picks up on it at once and bows out, but not before reminding me to visit her daughter, Celeste, more often. I tell her I will, and I mean it. Celeste is my second cousin, but she’s also a friend. I really like her. If she didn’t spend most of her time at the d’Alenq estate looking after her nephew, she and I might’ve been as close as our mothers.
After Marie-Louise is gone, Mother turns to me, her demeanor shifting. The relaxed façade falls away, and a serious expression I know all too well replaces it.
“Is something wrong?” I ask her.
“I had a new vision.”
My jaw drops as I process the implication of that statement. “You mean, avisionvision? An oracle vision? About the lost Montevor keys?”
“Yes.”
Oh, dear.
“Who’s the next key seeker?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice steady.
She doesn’t answer, she just stares at me.
Could it be me?
My older brothers were the ones who found the first three keys. They took huge risks. Theo’s brush with death was probably the closest. Kurt didn’t hesitate to shoot down his helicopter last year to stop my oldest brother from finding the third key. Theo almost died in the crash. His pilot did. For months, we thought we’d also lost Theo’s bodyguard Darrel. Miraculously, Darrel survived—and, what’s more, he recovered a key for us.
After Theo delivered the third key, I was almost sure the next key seeker would be me. But the oracle named Count Jonas d’Alenq, Marie-Louise’s son as the fourth key seeker. Darrel was the fifth.
I’ve spent quite some time wondering if I had been passed over because I wasn’t worthy of the sacred task or because I was a girl. To spare my ego, I settled on the latter. Fate, I decided, was old-school—low-key sexist. That explained why she only picked males for the role of the key seeker, and females for the part of the helper, the Key to the Key.
Five of the nine keys have been found now, but time is ticking—and it’s doing so loudly. We need to retrieve the other four keys by January 1 if we hope to save Mount Evor’s independence, maintain my family’s position, and ensure continued peace and prosperity for our tiny country.
The door to the salon opens wide, and in walk Adam and Uncle Richard. The latter somehow manages to look every bit the monarch even in Mother’s boudoir. She doesn’t seem surprised by their arrival. Adam gives a low bow to Mother and then to me.
“Your Most Serene Highness,” I greet Uncle Richard while delivering my own curtsy. We respect the protocol when a nonfamily member is around.
Everybody takes a seat. The air is so thick with tension you could cut it with a butter knife.
Mother and Uncle Richard exchange a glance, and then she drops the bombshell, “Gigi, you are the next key seeker.”
Oh. My. God. Yay! Go, Gigi!
Fate isn’t sexist, nor does she consider me unworthy of the job. Like the five Evorians before me, I too shall do my share of key hunting with a bull’s-eye painted on my back.
Mother looks at me, her expression a mix of pride and worry.
“It’s such an honor!” I exclaim, collecting myself. “I’m so excited!”
Uncle Richard smiles. Adam’s shoulders relax.
