Page 111

Luca dabbed his upper lip. ‘It’s forbidden for anyone who is not family to enter.’

‘I am family.’ She pressed a splayed hand on her chest, deliberately displaying Alex’s signet ring. ‘So if you just show me the entrance, I’ll go alone.’

He hesitated. ‘You’ll need a torch.’

‘I’ll use my phone.’

He led her into the semicircular apse behind the altar where three large ancient tapestries hung in a triptych. His breathing rattled as he lifted the centre one. Tilly was stunned to see a deep recess hidden where she’d thought there’d been solid wall. At the back was a metal door—the solid kind used for a bank vault. She never would have guessed it was there.

Her mouth dried. ‘Does the King visit often?’

‘No one from the family has been in here for a number of years.’

‘But they used to visit?’

Luca’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘The King would take Alex in there often when he was a boy.’

‘Why?’ She watched as he swung the door back. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

‘Alex spent a lot of hours down there alone.’

She frowned. ‘Because he liked it down here?’

Luca ducked his head. ‘I’ll leave this door wide open. It’ll give you extra light. It can only be opened from the outside, so if the door closes…’

‘I would be locked in.’

‘Yes.’ Luca turned but still wouldn’t meet her eyes. ‘You’d only be able to get out if someone came and got you.’

If you want to help me at last…

Oh, no. Surely not. But he’d just said Alex spent hours down here as a boy. Alone.

The narrow, steep stone stairs curled, taking her far from that limited light through the open door at the top. Without her phone it would be pitch black and terrifying—even with her phone it was scary enough. The cavern at the bottom was larger than she expected—gloomy and gothic, with ornately carved stone sarcophagi and eerie statuary depicting angels and demons with crowns and sceptres. It was cold and smelt dusty. To be sealed in here alone would be a horror. She stood in the centre, casting her light into the corners, her pulse racing as she tried to understand why anyone would ever send a child down here. As she turned, something glinted at the back left corner. She walked forward and shone the light directly on it.

Her heart seized.

* * *

Alex stared at Tino’s email and snatched up his phone. ‘Dig into the art deals—I feel as if something isn’t right with those.’

Why had his father got close to an art dealer? It wasn’t as if Domenico could trade any of the palace treasures—they belonged to the Crown, not the King personally. Domenico had never shown any great love for art and to Alex’s knowledge had no personal collection. His appreciation for the priceless items that filled the palace had only appeared when he realised he could make money through the tours he’d allowed a few years ago. And since Francesco Sandrelli—the businessman and art dealer—had come on the scene. Since then Domenico had found multiple new revenue streams, including relaxing the ‘quick-marriage’ rules to encourage tourism. Why did his father need all this money? Why hadn’t Alex bothered to consider this before?

Because he’d been too busy hating, not looking.

‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I have anything.’ Tino rang off.

Alex paced to his window but the view of Zaffira wasn’t enough to soothe his anger. Tilly was taking too long. He didn’t like her wandering around the palace alone. If she encountered Domenico privately now there was no telling what his reaction might be. With a frustrated huff Alex stalked off to find her. Unlike him and Erik, she didn’t have a full apartment with kitchen, lounge, and study in the wing, but merely one of the family guest rooms on the ground floor. He knocked on the door but got no reply. It felt off to invade her space but his need to find her overruled his hesitation. He peered in. ‘Tilly?’

Her room was neat enough to be included on the public palace tour.

Don’t ask for anything. Take only what you’re given.

She’d not changed a thing. Too insecure to dare claim the space. He backed out of it immediately. She’d probably been sidetracked by her museum people. He stalked all the way to the other side of the palace but the small museum-staff office was also empty. Frustrated, he turned, but on the way out his attention was snagged by a noticeboard festooned with thank-you cards, drawings and photos. He spotted Tilly in one and immediately studied the rest more closely to see if she featured in others. He found her in several. Her beige clothes and severe hair didn’t diminish her luminous smile—her warmth in the more intimate meetings with visitors. She was clearly a natural with children. His gut squeezed.

‘May I help, Your Highness?’

Reluctantly he glanced away from the pictures and recognised the woman who’d walked in. Head Curator, presumably Tilly’s manager. Kara. Did she know Tilly wasn’t paid? ‘Apologies for the intrusion, I was looking for Princess Tilly.’