Mother’s reaction is a deep sigh. “I’d hoped you’d be spared this dangerous task. The previous two seekers were from outside of the royal family, so I began to think that my baby girl would never have to risk her life for a key.”
“A key that will save the Crown and the country,” I amend her statement. “I won’t let you guys down. I’ll do everything to succeed.”
“Excellent, child, excellent,” Uncle Richard says. “That’s the spirit!”
Adam leans forward. “All my agents, as well as our best experts in forensics, history, and metal detection will be there to assist you every step of the way, Your Highness.”
Which reminds me!“What about my helper, the Key to the Key?”
The men study their hands.
I turn to Mother.
She is suddenly interested in her hands as well.
I press on, “Did your vision spit out her identity? Is she French? Evorian? Some other nationality?”
Cue the most awkward silence in the history of awkward silences.
Then Mother meets my gaze. “Your Key to the Key is Henri de Bellay.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“What?” I stare at Mother, then at Uncle Richard, and then at Adam.
They all stare back at me, poker-faced, except for Mother, who has a guilty look on her face.
“You mean…?” I stammer. “You mean,thatHenri de Bellay?”
Out of the eight billion people on this planet?
The guy upstairs has some twisted sense of humor!
“You should be pleased that it’s an Evorian,” Uncle Richard says. “It’s a first.”
That’s men for you!Uncle Richard doesn’t know about Henri’s betrayal, but he must remember I was dating him once. It was more than a fling—it lasted over a year! And since I’m obviously not dating him at present, if here were my aunt, he would’ve deduced that something went wrong and show some understanding.
“Yes, Your Most Serene Highness, I’m very pleased.” I let out a laugh that sounds more like a hiccup.
Mother reaches out and pats my hand. “Gigi, I know this isn’t ideal. I would’ve never picked him if I’d had any say in how this works.”
I know she means it, yet I draw away. Her hand hesitates in the air, and then she withdraws it, deflated. Embarrassment over my pettiness washes through me in a hot wave.
Oh, suck it up, Gigi!
The world may see me as a pampered globe-trotter, but I know it’s only a skin-deep outer layer. Underneath, I’m a Valois-Montevor, a member of the oldest uninterrupted royal house in the world. Stoicism comes with the territory. Duty over desires. Stiff upper lip. Personal grievances and hard feelings are of no consequence when the fate of my country is at stake.
I make my best I’ve-got-this face. “Anything else I should know? Any leads? Where and when do I start?”
Adam clears his throat, his face all business. “Henri owns a castle in Dordogne, a beautiful rural region in southern France. He inherited it four years ago, upon his paternal grandmother’s passing. He’s been living there for the past ten years. We believe the key might be somewhere on the estate.”
“He runs his international business from there,” Uncle Richard says.
Curiosity piques. “What business?”
“Truffles,” Adam states matter-of-factly. “He’s a successful truffle producer and dealer.”
“Chocolate truffles?” I inquire.
