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“Nathan?”
He looks at me with those deep copper for eyes and his black hair flows down in his face.
“You okay?”
“Sure,” he says, and gulps his whiskey. Vincent drinks his wine, and I watch them both as they sit there in all their silent, deadly handsomeness, wondering what the two of them are thinking.
“Asiatic black lilies,” Nathan suddenly says. “That’s the flower I would grow.”
I become obsessed with finding out everything I can about said flower, so much so that in the middle of the night, I get up and go on the Internet and look it up. It’s a beautiful lily, but it’s very dark and looks a bit vulnerable, like its petals might fall off from the slightest touch or little insects that mean to do it harm. I wonder what it smells like. I think about dark musty kinds of cologne, like the kind that Nathan wears sometimes. It just kind of clings to his clothes, and in the morning I smell that way.
Chapter Twenty
Vincent
I wake up to find the space between Nathan and myself empty. Isadora is gone. I get up and quickly check Isadora’s chambers. She’s not in her bathroom or dressing room. When I come back to the bedroom Nathan is awake, stretching.
“Where’s Isadora?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I’ve searched her rooms.”
Nathan sits up in bed looking worried. “Do you think Ileana’s done something to her?”
“Who knows what Ileana is capable of,” I say
“We need to find Isadora.”
I agree. Nathan and I dress quickly.
“It’s evening, and the palace is quiet. We can’t have the servants go looking for her; it will cause a fuss, and it may make Ileana suspicious,” Nathan says.
“It will take forever for just the two of us to search the entire palace, and god knows what Ileana could do to her by that time.” I try not to think about what could happen, but I have no doubt that if Ileana has to, she’ll kill Isadora, and Nathan and I would make easy targets for the blame. Ileana would still win, and we simply can’t let that happen. “How does Ileana usually spend her evenings?” I’m certain Nathan’s operatives have given him the answer to this question.
“Usually she spends them outside of the palace. What she does is something even my best operatives weren’t able to ascertain,” Nathan says.
“What about Theresa?” I ask.
“The queen’s secretary?” He raises a brow.
“Remember Isadora said some of her mother’s staff aren’t as loyal as she thinks.”
“Do you think she’ll tell us anything?”
“I can usually get people to tell me what I want to know,” I say.
Nathan quickly summons Theresa to the royal chambers. She looks even smaller than I remember. Perhaps it’s the lack of high heels and the fluffy pink robe that looks like it’s going to swallow her.
“Good evening, your highnesses,” she says giving us both a small bow.
“Theresa”—Nathan begins—“we need your help.”
“Yes, sir,” she says.
“Where is the queen?” Nathan asks.
“Right now?” Theresa says, shifting from foot to foot, looking from Nathan to me.
I fold my arms across my chest and give her a stern look. She looks away from me and back to Nathan.
“I’m not sure. It’s late, maybe she’s in bed.” This girl is a terrible liar.
“Theresa,” I say in my most intimidating voice, the one that makes battle-hardened general’s cower, “you’re a terrible liar. I’m going to ask you again. I know you know the answer. Where is the queen?” Theresa doesn’t flinch, hell she doesn’t even blink.
“My apologies, lying isn’t one of my strengths. I shouldn’t have tried it.”
“Answer the question, Theresa?” I say, stepping into her personal space and looking her right in the eyes. She doesn’t step back as she meets my gaze with an equally determined look of her own.
“Princess Isadora told me not to tell either of you where she is, and telling you the queen’s location would do that. So I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. It doesn’t look like good prince bad prince is going to work. Clearly, Theresa is tougher than she looks, and I suspect that’s by design.
“Isadora’s life might depend on you telling us,” Nathan says.
“Your lives may depend on me keeping silent,” she says.
“Surely we aren’t worth more to you than Isadora,” I chide.
Theresa is polite enough not to agree, but I can see in her eyes she’s torn. I know that she and Isadora have been friends since childhood, and I don’t think she wants to see Isadora hurt any more than we do.
“With all due respect, you’re right. Princess Isadora means more to me than either of you do. I’m sorry, I won’t betray the trust of the princess for anyone, not even the two of you.”
“You would let her die?” I ask.
“I don’t think she’ll be the one to die,” Theresa challenges, folding her arms across her chest. She glances up at the antique clock on the wall, it’s seconds from striking midnight.
