Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“So I’m from Grandeurs?” I ask, but none of this makes sense still. I don’t know a ton about Grandeurs.
“I believe so. In fact, I believe you’re an heir to the crown.”
I stare at him, his words for once stunning me into silence. “The crown?” It only lasted a moment.
“Yes, Grandeurs is a monarchy. I think the late king was your father.” I take that in. “You okay?”
I give a small nod. “Are you saying I’m like a real, real princess?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose it’s fitting,” I joke. “Hey, you’ve been calling me ‘princess’ lately.”
“Want me to go back to brat?”
“Kinda like them both.” I sit back in my chair. “What’s the rest? Is this why someone tried to snatch me up? Those men tell you anything while you were gardening together?”
Tristan starts talking. He tells me about the fire he believes I’m connected to. Where I was stashed away as a bastard child. Do people still use that term? That he believes after the king’s death, the wife, the queen, must have found out about me and feels I’m a threat to not only her but also her son, who is heir to the crown. I could try to come in and steal it all away. Well, I can’t really steal what’s rightfully mine.
“This is insane, and it doesn’t fully make sense.”
“There are missing pieces,” Tristan says in agreement.
“Was this king on good terms with other countries and stuff, or was he a power-hungry nut?”
“At the present, there were no issues that I’m aware of.”
I chew on my bottom lip. “What if the queen knew about me but thought I died in the fire? Then found out after his death I’m still alive?”
“It’s possible, but I still don’t know how Victor comes into play. How he got you. But I do know those men were sent by the queen yesterday.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” I repeat. “Maybe I should be freaking out, and I still might, but, and I know this is going to sound crazy, it feels a little settling. Like I’ve been missing something, but I didn’t know what. Now I’ve found it.”
“It’s not over, Lily; I’m sure she’s finding out the two men haven’t reported back to her.”
“And she’ll send more.”
“Likely,” he agrees.
“Then we have two options.” His brows rise. “What? I’m in this now.”
“All right, what are these two options?”
“Well, maybe three.” I wiggle my fingers. “One, we wait them out; two, we surprise attack.” I can tell from his expression he’s not a fan of that one. Home turf is likely better. “Or we build that dome.” Tristan opens his mouth to respond. “The dome was a joke.” I cut him off, pointing my fork at him.
Tristan reaches across the table, covering my hand with his. “The dome stays a joke for now.” I roll my eyes playfully. “But you’re not leaving my sight until we figure this all out.”
“So, status quo.” I turn my palm up, threading our fingers together. “Good. Now pass the bacon; your princess is starving.”
If that queen has anything to do with my dad’s death, off with her fucking head.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
TRISTAN
The east wing study at Teddy’s estate is more secure than the drop house. It is most logical for us to be here. It makes the girls really happy too.
I’ve spent the last hour rerouting my systems here, spreading monitors across the mahogany desk that usually hosts nothing more threatening than estate ledgers. The room is directly across from the suite we’re staying in.
Killian leans against the far wall, arms crossed, watching me work. “How is Lily handling everything?”
“Surprisingly well.” I don’t look up from the screen. “They’re back in the vault?” I joke, but is it really a joke? When Teddy found out Lily is a princess, she was ecstatic. She started pulling out all the crowns she could find. I think I heard her mumble something about Lily needing a bejeweled scepter to match and apologizing that she doesn’t already have one. They’re having fun with it. Better than dwelling on it, and I have to give it to the girls. They are resilient.
“Still in there.”
The screen in front of me flashes with different incoming data. I’ve been pulling every thread I can find on the queen of Grandeurs—her financials, her security detail changes, and her communications patterns in the last few years.
“She’s not giving up,” I say. “The two men in the alley were scouts. Low-level, disposable. To her, at least they were.” It’s fucked up because one died with her name on his lips. That’s deep loyalty.
“Now what?”
“She’s setting up a new plan of action.” I pull up a satellite image of the Grandeurs palace, zooming in on the eastern wing. “Five encrypted communications have gone through in the last eighteen hours. All linked to the same server. They are using burner phones and rotating locations, but the pattern is consistent.”