The butler frowns and raises a brow. “You don’t look familiar, sir.”
I repress a groan. The little shit. How would he know who to say had called if he didn’t recognize me? Slamming a hand onto the door frame, I try to channel my inner royal. “Prince Kian. Be grateful I’m not making you bow.” I shudder inwardly at the asshole prince persona. I never was good at it, unlike my brother. “If the master of the house is not available, I am more than happy to speak to his wife.”
This plan has to work. After the disastrous warehouse incident, I’ve spent all my recovery time pouring into research on Kyros . . . or Cyrus, as I now know he was called. But nothinghas turned up any new leads, and I’m feeling desperate. Those missing journal pages have to be somewhere, right? At the very least, I hope I can scope out the study more thoroughly in the daylight so that if I need to return again, I’ll know where to look—or where to not waste my time looking. I can’t risk being caught again, as delightful as it was having Lady Raelyn on top of me all those weeks ago. I smirk even as I chastise myself for letting her take up space in my mind.
Nothing about the woman makes sense to me. From the way I’m inexplicably drawn to her to the way all of our encounters seem to be erased from her memory. Am I cursed by the gods to fall for a woman who can’t remember me, or is she playing some sick and twisted game?
“Apologies, Your Highness. It has been too long since I’ve been to court,” the butler simpers as he takes my hat and coat to the cloakroom.
“I’ll let it go this once,” I call after him before straightening the lapel on my undercoat, taking a moment to look around the foyer without the overabundance of flowers. The grand staircase gleams in the afternoon light, polished to perfection. They must have quite a few servants to keep the place looking as pristine as it does, which strikes me as odd, considering what I know of Lord Astoria’s financial difficulties. Perhaps the new lady of the house had enough to refill his coffers or the debt I thought he was in had been an exaggeration.
The butler returns, his posture stiff as he refuses to meet my gaze. “I’m not quite sure where the lady of the house is, but I’m happy to go look for her if you don’t mind waiting.”
Perfect. Some time alone is just what I need.
“Surely you wouldn’t have me standing here, waiting in the foyer,” I say. “Lead me to the lord’s study. I’m certain he would be appalled if I wasn’t offered a drink while I waited.”
The butler pauses, and I can see him turning the request over in his head. I realize it might be a little unorthodox to invite myself into someone’s study, but sitting in an empty parlor will not help me accomplish what I came here to do. Gods willing Lord Astoria is as stingy with his liquors as I suspect and stashes them safely there.
Before he can say no, I tip my head and motion. “Well? Lead the way.”
To my relief, he acquiesces—perhaps being the prince comes with some perks—and I follow him down the hall toward the study.
A melodic sound filters through the click of our heels on the polished floor, and I catch a flash of auburn as I pass an open doorway.
Wait. I halt and back up a pace, peeking into the room. The melody continues, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise at its haunting simplicity. A maid with reddish-brown hair kneels on the marble floor, polishing away. Ah, so not the Lady Raelyn then. I shake off the flash of disappointment as I hurry to catch up with the butler.
The melody follows me down the hall, and I fight the urge to turn around and go back, but no. I’m here for a purpose.
The butler ushers me into the study and draws back the curtains. With a glance at the overcast sky, he shakes his head and moves to light the lamps while I nonchalantly wander over to the drink cart and pick up a crystal decanter. After giving it a quick sniff, I hum approvingly.
“Yes, this will do nicely.”
I pour myself a glass before the butler can reach me, and he sighs in clear exasperation. “I guess I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll return with Lady Astoria shortly.” He glances over his shoulder at the door, as if second-guessing his decision to allow me to remain here unattended.
I give him a lazy smile and knock back a sip of the liquor before settling into one of the leather armchairs. “No rush. I’m happy to enjoy this fine drink while I wait.”
He nods before disappearing out the door.
The second he’s gone, I set down the drink and get to work. My gaze sweeps the room, looking for anything I might have missed in the dark. I curse under my breath. This will take way longer than I probably have. With any luck, Lady Astoria will be indisposed and unavailable for at least ten minutes. Is that asking too much? Gods, I hope not. Even as I think about them, I can’t help but wish they might send a little extra luck my way.
Standing in front of the bookshelves, I start where I left off, randomly tugging on items, wondering if there might be a secret room full of valuable information hidden behind it.
Idiot. That only happens in books, not real life. Perhaps there’s a hollowed-out book full of the loose pages I’m looking for? A map? I start to feel dismay as I realize this is not going my way.
Time to check out the desk. Opening a drawer, I carefully look through the documents, trying not to disturb anything. I fumble around for any hidden drawers or locks until the melody that captivated me comes closer. I curse again.
Dashing back over to the chair, I pick up my drink, hoping I look relaxed when the maid enters the room, a large bucket slung over her arm.
Her jade eyes meet mine, and she gasps, quickly taking a step back. The soapy water sloshes over the side and onto the floor, and to my surprise, a filthy curse leaves her mouth.
Wait.
“Lady Raelyn?” I ask, shocked that she’s in maid’s garb and doing hard labor in her own home.
She sets the bucket onto the floor and grumbles something unintelligible as she drops to her knees and sops up the soapymess. Overcome with surprise, I completely forget my manners. I’m about to jump up and offer my help, but she turns her eyes back up toward mine and glares. How interesting. Is it too much to hope she hasn’t once again forgotten who I am?
“Do you normally wait unusually long amounts of time to answer simple questions?” I blurt out, needing to break the awkward silence.
