Page 45 of Desperately Yours

I brought out my own phone and turned on the flashlight. I started searching the boxes against the wall. It didn’t take long tosee that the crates weren’t where we last saw them. Why would they be? Whatever she’d smuggled in, she would want it hidden. It’s not like she’d just move it to—

“The kitchen!” Bishop’s exclamation carried and rang off the walls. I whipped around, frustrated with him, but the look of regret on his face showed he knew he’d messed up. Speaking softer, he said, “The crates, they were sent to the kitchen.”

I hurried back to examine the sheets myself. Voices spoke outside the warehouse, but they didn’t sound like they were coming inside. Had Bishop caught their attention?

“Look.” Bishop put his finger on the sheet. “That’s the date that the carboon blackwing arrived. It says three crates, but we know one contained the bird. It doesn’t list the contents of any, but it says they were moved to the kitchen.” He exhaled, slow and steady. “It may not be anything. Perhaps the smugglers only used a normal shipping date as a chance to get the bird into the palace.”

“Or maybe it’s everything.” My mind started reeling. “What if it’s poison? What if a cook is planning to kill everyone tonight through the food?” When Bishop started to shake his head, I made my case. “Don’t you remember Carline was in the running at the beginning. Her father worked in the kitchen. Maybe he held a grudge, or he was easily manipulated.”

Bishop snapped the binder shut. “Would you stop? We have been chasing the queen since I met you and never once has it proved beneficial.” Frustration gripped his features, turning them hard in the low light. “She may not be a great person, but all we have been able to prove is that she is loyal and in love with her husband.” His stare practically burned right through me. “Other than ambition, why would she go through this much effort to take the throne?”

“Revenge.” It was a better reason than most. “If her father-in-law really had her father killed, don’t you think she wouldlie in wait until she could take what was supposed to be hers all along?” My tone turned to pleading. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but only because you are too close to it. Trust me, I know what it’s like to lose a father. If I know what it feels like to want someone to pay for…” My voice trailed off, afraid of what I might say next. “Let’s just say, I would understand her motivation if it’s true.”

“But kill her own son?” Bishop wasn’t buying it.

I had to agree. I doubted her ability to go to that extreme. “I don’t have all the answers, but I can’t help feeling like those crates have the rest of them.” I latched onto his arm. “Please, Bishop. Help me find them. If it’s nothing, I’ll drop it. I promise.”

Voices grew louder outside the building. Our window was closing. Somewhere a truck’s beeping cut through the air. Any second the roll-up door would spring to life. Bishop looked at his phone, checking the time. "You’re supposed to be getting ready. If you’re late… I swear… I’m blaming it all on you.”

Without confirmation, Bishop gripped my wrist and pulled me from the building just as the door rolled up. We ducked around the corner and started jogging until we hit cover. Bishop didn’t waste any more time. Without dropping his grip, he led me back to the palace, carefully navigating the halls and skillfully avoiding anyone else along the way. It surprised me that he didn’t use the tunnels like Fitz, but it occurred to me that he might not have been informed of their existence.

“Through here.” Bishop pushed back the door and held it for me. “Wait in here. I need to be sure it’s empty.”

“It won’t be.” It couldn’t. With everything that was happening, how on earth would the kitchen be anything but bustling?

“This isn’t the kitchen. It’s the storage room where they keep the food.” His patience waned. “I’m serious though, Michaela. Ten minutes and then you need to be back upstairs. It’s not justLeonidas who needs you in the ballroom. The whole country needs you.” He took my shoulders. “If you plan to be our queen, you need to put their needs above yours.”

Bishop disappeared through another door but I froze at his words. He was right, and yet, was I ready to do that? I just wanted to marry the man I loved. I hadn’t taken much time to consider the baggage he was bringing into this relationship. A single dad was one thing, but he had literally thousands that he was responsible for, and I was about to agree to share that responsibility.

The door parted in front of me. “It’s clear.” Bishop waved me inside while glancing over his shoulder. “But I’m not sure how long. My alarm from earlier must have been declared a hoax, and I suspect security is higher because of it.”

I understood what he wasn’t saying. We were on thin ice. I stepped down the small staircase into the sunken storage room. The air was dank and musty. It reminded me of summers when we would visit my uncle who had a cellar, though this space was considerably larger. Like Uncle Jacob’s cellar though, the only light came from single bulbs at sections of the rafters, leaving some parts of the room lit and others draped in shadows. Barrels and crates cluttered the open space, some with the lids removed and others sealed tight. It looked as though it went back farther than the immediate room, and hopelessness began to take hold.

How was I supposed to find two random crates in all of this? Especially when most of the crates looked identical to the ones we saw.

“Do you see now?” Bishop waved a hand over the mess of it. “What you’re trying to prove, it’s impossible.”

“Since when did you start doubting?” My frustration with his unwillingness to help finally overflowed. “You’ve been the first one calling guilty since you arrived and suddenly, I’m crazy to suspect? What’s your angle?”

“Angle?” His eyes widened as he spread his arms wide, as if trying to make me see my lunacy. “My angle is that I don’t want to end up king, and if you skip out tonight, I might. So, it would honestly be in everyone’s best interest if you scurried upstairs, put on that pretty little gown, and stood by your man.”

“That’s it? Your selfish needs above everyone else’s? What was that speech you just gave me about duty?”

“Foryou!” Bishop looked ready to pull his hair out. “Don’t you get it? Iamselfish. The second your beloved Fitz told me this plan, I thought he was crazy. Because if it doesn’t work, it’s me holding the bag, or rather, wearing the crown, and I don’tbleedingwant it!”

“And you don’t care that hundreds of people may die tonight?”

“I have faith in our security. They’re prepared for all instances—”

“And what if Kabir is in on it?”

“What?” His face fell in disbelief. “Now you’re completely demented. There is no way that Kabir could—”

“We need to cancel tonight. That’s the only way to ensure nothing happens.” I started for the stairway, but Bishop shifted to intercept me.

“You can’t cancel this. The king is dying. The transition must take place. There must be a successor…” His words trailed off. As if another idea took over, his inner eye twitched. “You don’t want to marry him, do you?”

“What?” My throat went dry almost instantly. “That’s not it at all.”

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