ANTOINE
Two Weeks Later
The palace room for my second briefing is less formal than the one from last week. The sunlight streaming in through the tall windows doesn’t interfere with the room’s pleasant coolness. When you wear a suit rain or shine, you appreciate the little things.
Adam Von Dietz, head of the Mount Evor Secret Service, aka our spook in chief, stands at the far end of the room. He’s all business, as usual, arms crossed, and lips pursed.
Behind him, a screen displays a photo of a curvaceous Asian woman, undeniably hot but too sultry for my taste. Laura Yang. My bride.
I lean back in the chair. “Shall we start?”
“In a moment, my lord,” Adam says.
I’m all for meditative silences and giving the latecomers a few extra minutes to make it before the meeting begins. But, I also have three companies to run. Ever since the oracle named me the next key seeker, I’ve been making arrangements to minimizethe need for my personal involvement in company business starting next week and for the rest of the summer. That means my involvement until then is at a maximum.
“Can I just check something with you?” I ask.
“Of course, Sir.”
I stare at Laura’s photo. “Over the next week, MESS wants me to get a tattoo, pierce my ears, and take an intensive acting class.”
“That’s right,” Adam confirms.
“After which, I am to parade myself on live television, and marry a woman who, we believe, has the seventh key.”
“That’s a good summary,” he deadpans.
I study Laura’s outfit on the screen. “Her day job is a bank teller, right? Why is she dressed like a cheap slut?”
“That picture is from her application to WAFS,Wed at First Sight,” Adam explains. “She sees herself as an artist, a free spirit, and our theory is that she styled herself accordingly.”
Ah yes, she creates costume jewelry as a hobby.
“Are her designs any good?” I ask.
Adam’s lips twitch, but don’t smile—he doesn’t do those. “I would not presume to have the expertise required to judge the artistic quality of women’s ornaments.”
I open the file in front of me and skim through my own profile as if reading the description one more time will magically transform “Antoine Bellay, tattoo artist and parlor owner” into someone more like my real self.
I lift my eyes to Adam. “Do I absolutely have to be a tattoo artist? Couldn’t you make me a chess player or a tennis coach? I’ve never even held a tattoo needle!”
Not to mention how much I hate the idea of being on a reality show.
“That’s why you’ll train all week,” Adam replies smoothly. “It’s not rocket science.”
Frankly, I’d rather learn rocket science!
I’d fly to the International Space Station and wear diapers for several months without blinking an eye. I’d go to war as a foot soldier. Almost anything would be better than doing WAFS.
If only there was a way of bowing out of this!
But there’s none. The de Bellays have been loyal to the Crown for a thousand years. We consider it our sacred duty. Even Henri, my wayward younger brother the anti-royalist, did his part and fetched the sixth key. And now that Princess Felicia prophesied that I’m the next key seeker, there’s no way I’m bailing. The oracle saw me exchanging marriage vows with a French woman of Asian descent on a reality show calledWed at First Sight. In a separate vision, she saw that woman holding an antique music box. The key must be hidden in it.
Princess Felicia couldn’t make out the details of the box, but she got such a good look at the woman that MESS had no trouble tracking down Laura Yang among this season’s applicants. She is my Key to the Key.
I grit my teeth even as my father’s voice echoes in my head, “Antoine never falters.”My parents, my country and the Crown deserve my best effort, which is exactly what I’m going to give this mission. Because that’s what I do. I deliver. Father’s right. I don’t run from responsibility. I rise to the challenge and exceed expectations.
So, enough whining!
