“Weird thing to know off the top of your head,” I say. “Unless it affects you? Maisie may have mentioned something about that. About how you don’t like anyone to know, since it makes you feel vulnerable.”
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he continues to bang on the door until his fists are red and bleeding, and for the briefest of moments, I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
Another ethereal voice fills the air, and this one makes my skin crawl. “Ben…be honest, mate,” says Jasper Cunningham with a low chuckle. “You didn’t actually think you’d get away with this, did you?”
“I think he did,” whispers Rosie, and she giggles. “What an arrogant prick.”
And then a third joins them—a deep voice with a refined accent. “You forgot one small detail,Your Royal Highness,” murmurs John Phillip Michaels. “Mutually assured destruction.”
Ben freezes, his colorless eyes wide. “What the hell is going on?” he wheezes. “What is this?”
“What do you and Dylan have planned?” I say, all traces of amusement gone now. “Tell me, and I’ll let you out of here.”
“I have no idea what you’re—”
“Wrong answer,” I snap, stepping back out of his reach. “Drop the act, Ben. MI5 has all the evidence they need to put you away for the rest of your life.”
Ben’s face, which was already the color of sour milk, mottles with blotchy patches of red. “I haven’t done anything wrong—”
“We have proof. Lots of it. And if you want a prayer of ever walking free again, you’ll tell me where Dylan is before you also go down for whatever he’s about to do next.”
Despite Ben’s obvious panic and unraveling composure, he actually scoffs. “I won’t go down for anything, Evangeline. I’m third in line to the throne—soon to be first, in case you haven’t heard.”
I tilt my head. “I hadn’t. How does that work, exactly?”
He manages a grin, even though it’s uneven and a bit manic. “The entire world knows Maisie’s illegitimate now, and Alexander’s finally abdicating like he should have decades ago.”
“He is?” I say, even though I’m not the least bit surprised.
Ben chuckles. “What, were you counting on the crown falling to you instead? You’re not even legitimate yet. And if you don’t let me out of here—”
He falters, but this is exactly the opening I’ve been waiting for. “You’ll what?” I press. “Make sure I never am?”
Ben eyes the door again. “Whoever this Dylan character is, he sounds rather dangerous. I certainly wouldn’t take my chances.”
I snort. “I bet you wouldn’t. What makes you think you’ll be named heir? That Alexander’s abdicating and Maisie’s being removed from the line of succession?”
He tugs ineffectively at the handle again, then kicks the bottom of the door twice, cursing when it doesn’t budge. “My mother told me,” he says with strained haughtiness. “And my father. They both confirmed it separately. Why else would I be here, Evangeline? To watch the delightful union between an adulterer and his mistress? The announcement will be made immediately following the wedding, and you won’t even have a chance at snagging your heirs a place in the line of succession. The crown will go straight to my father, and then to me—”
“And how long will that take?” I say. “A year? Five? Ten? How long are you willing to wait before you murder your own father?”
Ben stares at me, but he doesn’t deny it. “Let me out of here,” he says, panic grating his voice, “and this doesn’t have to get messy, Evangeline. For any of us.”
Right. Because once my parents and I are out of his way, he’ll have no reason to come after us again. Unless it’s out of spite and revenge. “Or,” I counter, “you tell me what you and Dylan are planning, and I’ll tell you a secret. Maybe even two, if you stop trying to delay things.”
This catches his attention, and he eyes me up and down. “I’m not planning anything, and I’ve no idea who this Dylan bloke is. What secret?”
“Not good enough,” I say. “Try again.”
“I have nothing to give you except the tru—”
“What time is it?”
My question seems to take him by surprise, and he glancesat his mobile again. “Two-fourteen. Are you going to open the damn door or—”
“Perfect.” I pick up my tablet from its spot against the wall and unlock the device. I already have it queued up to the right channel, and I angle it toward Ben. “My favorite show is about to start.”
Ben blinks, bewildered. “Evangeline, what the hell are you—”
