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“Forgive me,” he said to the stars. He should have been faster and should have anticipated the attack. The weight of his failure pressed down on him.
Duty and loyalty warred within his chest as he struggled to his feet, casting a final glance at the spot where Nicole last stood. She meant so much to him, and he’d never told her. He should have been focused on her, not on his brother.
“I must find her,” he said, his voice steadier now, infused with the resolve of a man who knew what he must do. There would be no rest, not until Nicole was safely returned and their enemies brought to justice.
For now, he was alone—but not defeated. With every step he took toward help, toward rallying the forces of the palace against this unseen foe, he carried Nicole’s spirit with him, a beacon of hope in the suffocating darkness.
Theodore’s fingers trembled as he plucked his mobile from the inner pocket of his jacket, the screen a cold, eerie glow in the night. His heart pounded against his ribcage, a drumbeat of dread and desperation. He dialed with a precision born from years of protocol and training, despite the chaos unraveling inside him.
“Metropolitan Police,” answered a voice, crisp and detached.
“Inspector Lyle, please. It’s Prince Theodore,” he said, his words clipped by urgency.
“Yes, Your Highness. Putting you through now.”
As the phone rang once more, Theodore paced beneath an ancient oak. The line clicked, and a familiar voice emerged from the static.
“Your Highness? What’s happened?”
“Nicole—she’s been taken,” Theodore began. He’d been working with the inspector on the plot to overthrow the kingdom. “I’m in the back garden of the palace. I thought we were safe here.”
“Oh no,” the inspector breathed out. “Stay where you are. We’re on our way.”
Theodore closed the call, knowing the palace was next. The dial tone seemed to echo the pounding of his pulse, each ring a countdown to the confession of his failure.
“Royal Household,” a voice eventually answered, stoic and formal.
“King Albert,” Theodore demanded, authority sharpening his tongue. The line hummed, then shifted as it was transferred.
“Son? What is it?” Albert’s voice cut through, concern immediately evident.
“Father,” Theodore began, his resolve wavering for a moment before steeling once again. “Nicole has been abducted. There’s been an attack.” He recounted every detail, each observation he’d made during their walk, the suddenness of the assault, the glint of malice in the shadows.
“An attack? Theodore—” Albert’s voice broke off, laden with a gravity that spoke volumes of unvoiced fears.
“Father, I’m afraid this is only the beginning,” Theodore interjected, his words etched with loyalty and duty. “Whoever did this knew exactly when to strike, how to hit us where we’re most vulnerable.” His hand clenched around his phone. “We’ve gotten too close to Marquis Christopher and his plot.”
“Your safety is paramount, Theodore. You must come back to the palace at once.”
“Nicole is still out there,” he countered, his tone resolute. “I cannot—I will not—abandon her to whatever fate these villains have concocted.”
Albert sighed. “We shall deploy all necessary resources. We’ll find her, Theodore.”
“Thank you, Father,” Theodore replied.
In the silence that followed the call, Theodore lifted his gaze to the heavens, beseeching them for strength. Nicole’s face danced behind his eyes, her laughter a balm to his soul, her absence a void no title or privilege could fill.
“Be safe, Nicole,” he whispered into the dark.
The grand hall seemed to be filled with half the police precinct. Theodore joined them, immediately telling them everything he knew about the kidnapping.
“Your Highness,” Detective Harris approached. “We’ve dispatched units to all possible locations. Roadblocks are in place, and we’re monitoring traffic cameras as we speak.”
“Thank you,” Theodore replied, his gaze never leaving the map sprawled across the table, dotted with markers that represented hope, desperation, and Nicole’s potential whereabouts. “What about her phone? Can it be tracked?”
“We’re on it, sir. But these criminals, they’re savvy. They might have ditched it already,” the detective admitted.
Theodore’s hand balled into a fist, the knuckles whitening with restrained fury. “Then we must outsmart them.” He could almost hear Nicole’s voice chiding him for his stubbornness, her with a foil to his stoicism.
