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“Your first concern should be Nicole’s happiness and safety. Think about how you would feel. Wouldn’t you rather have six months of love than live a long life without it?”
“Absolutely. Thank you for talking through all of this with me. It does help.”
“Think nothing of it.” She smiled. “Now, go. Plan your next move with all the cunning and passion of a romance novel hero.”
“Yes, I will,” he promised.
PRINCE THEODORE PAUSED beneath the archway that led into the library. The golden hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow on the rows of ancient books, and for a moment, the fear within him dissipated. But only for a moment.
“Marquis Christopher,” Theodore murmured, the name tasting like poison on his tongue. “We all know he is behind the assassination attempts, but we can’t prove it.”
Eloise, seated on a plush chaise lounge with a volume splayed open in her lap, looked up at her brother. “We must prove it’s him, Theodore.”
“You’re right,” Theodore agreed, his voice laced with resolve. “I have considered every possible angle, every connection that might lead us to him. But I can find no proof!”
“Perhaps shadows are where we should look,” Eloise suggested thoughtfully, closing her book with a soft thud. “Shadows can only exist where there is light. So we find the source of light, and it leads us to him.”
Theodore nodded, a silent acknowledgment of her wisdom. “Every waking moment I am haunted by the threat he poses,” he confessed. “Not just to me, but to all whom we love.”
“You have always been my protector,” Eloise said. She joined him by the hearth, her proximity a reminder of their shared bond.
“I would lay down my life without hesitation to keep you safe,” Theodore agreed. “Marquis Christopher was once James’s closest confidante, and now he slithers in the dark, trying to overthrow our monarchy. He will be brought to justice. I shall see to it personally.”
“You need to be cautious. We can’t afford to lose you.”
“Of course,” he conceded. The weight of his responsibility felt less burdensome. “We will proceed with meticulous care. But believe me, I will put an end to these threats. It is my duty as a prince.”
“So, what do you think our first steps should be?” Eloise asked.
“Consider the alliances,” Theodore mused aloud. “Marquis Christopher would need confederates, resources...perhaps even a nation’s backing to perpetrate such treachery.”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice the whisper of silk against silk. “But who would ally against the monarchy? We have a strong approval rating. I would think only a country who wishes to take us over, and the only country that has ever posed a real danger to us is Allenia.”
“Do you think he’s gathering allies among the other courtiers?” He shook his head. “Someone who smiles with teeth sharpened by envy?”
“It could be that Marquis Christopher has a group of allies within Theron, but their movements are guided by the powers that be in Allenia.”
“Foreign influence.” He paused. “It seems to be the most obvious culprit. Though I thought we were growing closer to better relations with Allenia. I think Prince Bernard has a crush on you.”
Eloise rolled her eyes. “We should have a grand ball then, and I’ll ask him.”
“I’m not sure that’s the wisest course of action.”
“Let’s think about what we know,” she said, rising gracefully from her chair. She approached a grand map mounted upon the wall, the expanse of their kingdom etched in fine detail. Her finger traced the borders and trade routes, lingering over the names of neighboring realms.
“Trade agreements have been honored...mostly,” Theodore pointed out. “But there were discrepancies, shipments delayed without cause, goods accounted for but never arrived. And all seem to have come through Allenia.”
“Patterns,” Eloise affirmed, her brow furrowed in concentration. “If we can discern a pattern in these irregularities, we might unveil a trail leading to Christopher.”
“I’ll gather the list of misappropriated goods as well as the ones that arrived short or damaged. We’ll see if we can find a rhyme or reason. We’ll cross-reference the trade anomalies with the social engagements from the past months.”
“Social engagements?” Eloise queried, turning to face him with a tilt of her head, a lock of red hair slipping free from its confines.
“Marquis Christopher, whoever he is, would need to move within certain circles to gather information,” Theodore explained, his mind tracing paths invisible to the eye. “Balls, banquets, things of that sort—occasions ripe for espionage under the guise of celebration.”
“Then we’ll make a list,” Eloise declared. “Every guest, every conversation that struck an odd chord, every glance misplaced.”
“An excellent plan.” For the first time since this last assassination attempt, he felt hopeful they’d find the person behind the unrest.
