Page 56 of The Prince and the Puck
“I filed my reports each night,” I said. “Using the secure protocols you sent me with.” I had been up late every night, accessing the portal through which I could make my daily reports. I knew I had done my job exactly as specified. The reports went directly to Neel.
Neel typed into his desktop computer, frowning. “Lizzy, there’s nothing here. These are the reports you sent me—nothing about attempts on the prince’s life.”
“That doesn’t make sense. I filed at least three reports a day. We were assaulted in a parking lot… his truck blew up!”
“I see all of your reports, but nothing marked priority.” He looked at me grimly. “If any of them had mentioned what you just told me, they would have been marked. And action would have been taken. These reports came directly to me, didn’t they?”
“Yes, sir. That’s what we arranged before I left.”
“Then there is something amiss. This is very odd.” He raised an eyebrow, typed something into his computer and stood. It did seem odd. It had seemed odd at the time, back in Virginia. I’d followed protocol and the office hadn’t ever followed up.
Neel marched around his desk. “This is very concerning, Lizzy,” he said. “Come with me.” I barely kept up as he stormed down the hallway. But then—he stopped. Turned. Backtracked. Finally, he yanked open a door and shoved me inside.
Before I could ask what was happening, the door was shut and bolted.
“Sir?!” No answer. I turned, staring at the small space I had just been thrown into. Brooms, cleaning supplies, a few stacks of crackers and a utility sink.
I was locked in a closet.
At first, I worked on opening the lock, but with the bolt thrown from the outside, I knew there was little chance of getting that to work. I was trying to maintain a professional demeanor. I was at work, after all. Though this situation was slightly…unusual.
I reached for my phone, remembering only as I came up empty that I’d turned it in at security when I’d accessed the palace this morning. Following protocols. No one kept their devices inside the palace complex except the royal family.
“There has to be something in here I can use,” I assured myself, wandering the perimeter of the small closet, searching for…what? A magical key? After an hour of doing my best to stay calm and channel action heroes I’d seen in movies, I resorted to panic.
“Help!” I screamed it, hoping someone would be walking by, investigate.
The thing was, I’d never been down this hallway before. I wasn’t sure quite where I was, or how many people traversed this route daily. The reason Declan and I had held such incredible games of hide and seek was because the palace was practically a labyrinth. It was such a twisted warren of hallways and corridors I sometimes wondered if a madman had designed the place.
“Help me!” I screamed until my voice was hoarse, but no one came. At least I had light in there. If I was locked in a tiny dark closet, it would be so much worse. Finally, I sank to the floor, my back against the wall. Someone would find me, I was sure. I tried to calm myself and let my mind work on this new problem.
Was Neel the leak? Had he put me here to prevent me telling anyone else of his betrayal? That had to be it. He was the one who’d received those reports.
I had to get out of here. I had to. The royal family might be in danger. Would Neel really do anything to hurt them? To hurt Declan?
I had to escape. “Help!!” I screamed, banging my heels on the door that simply would not budge.
CHAPTER 31
DECK
IF PAPER TOWELS COULD TALK.
Wakingup in my old bedroom was confusing at first. The last time I’d visited, they’d treated me as a proper guest, putting me up in the guest quarters in a different wing of the palace. But that was when they were maintaining my disguise—I was not the prince, just a visitor of some import.
Now, there was no reason to hide me. I was to be the king, after all. (So they shoved me back into my old twin-sized bed, where my feet now hung off the end. Of course.)
“A formal announcement will be made in the next week,” Dad was saying at breakfast. “And we will hold the coronation ceremony shortly after.” He nodded at both Lambert and me, and I did my best to keep the horror I felt at his statement from my expression.
“So soon?” Lambert asked.
“I see no need to delay,” Dad said. “Deckkie is home, and he should assume responsibility as soon as possible to ensure a peaceful transition.” I focused on my scones, not wanting to see how this statement might hurt my brother’s feelings. There was no talk of the potential for him to ascend, and I gathered those discussions were long past. Everyone in the family had accepted this plan. My coming home had cemented it.
But no one—other than my brother—had asked what I wanted.
I’d had dreams of hockey the night before. That cold ammonia scent of the ice rink that had come to mean home to me, the rush of taking the ice when a crowd waited all around to watch the fight, the feeling of flying that I could never replicate any other way. And Lizzy. Lizzy had been there. And in my dream? She was wearing my jersey.
That’s how I knew it was a dream. Lizzy was a professional. She’d never wear a jersey. It would be far too casual. But when I’d first woken up, I felt like I might give just about anything to see her in mine.
