Howland acted offended.
“I know you have them,” I said.“You’ve broken into more than one room I’ve locked myself inside.”
“Your Highness.”His voice lowered.“You do realize this is breaking and entering?”
I shrugged.“What’s the use of being a prince if I can’t make my own rules every now and then?”
“I don’t believe this is safe.”
“The pins, Howland.”I turned impatient.“I’ll let you enter the room first if it makes you feel better.”
He ensured I knew he didn’t like my plan but handed me the pins all the same.I knelt in front of the door, studying the keyhole before setting to work.I had spent my childhood breaking into and out of rooms, sometimes needing a place to hide.Less than twenty seconds later I heard a click then turned the handle.I backed away, extending my arm for Howland.
“All yours.”
He threw me a disapproving look before entering, thoroughly examining the suite before allowing me inside.Nothing appeared changed from the last time I had been in here.The flowers I had gifted her were still on display, although they were now wilted.
“Your—”
I held a finger to my lips, silencing Howland.
A night breeze flipped through the open window, leaving a chill in the air.I studied the room, careful to leave everything exactly as it had been.Nothing jumped out at me, but I did notice the lack of personal belongings.The only thing they seemed to possess was fancy attire.
I checked the three bedrooms, feeling like I was going too far in invading their privacy but needing to know all the same.One of the bedrooms belonged to a man, but women had occupied the other two, the one on the left appearing as if it had been rifled through.
Where was Analleia if she wasn’t at the ball tonight?
Something glinted on the low table, and I swiped my hand across the top, coming away with the remnants of a powder.I lifted the substance to my nose, but it gave no odor.
So I tasted it.
Howland cried out in alarm, rushing forward.I ignored him.It couldn’t have been more than a grain, but there was no texture or taste.It wasn’t dust.Something had been prepared on this surface.
My eyes drifted through the open bedroom door, landing on Analleia’s punch-stained dress from when the waiter had crashed into her, and she had knocked Uncle Wylan into—
The thought paralyzed me.
Could it be possible?
Every image from last night paraded through my head, fit into the border of the puzzle I was building.She had brought up my uncle in conversation, but had that been coincidence or intentional?
“What is it?”Howland’s voice sounded like it was far away.
I cocked my head, forming the theory.“I think I know where she is.”
