Page 83 of The Stolen Princess
“Yes, he replied.” Kase held up a piece of paper.
A rush of relief ran through her. There was a reply. Suddenly she had to know exactly what that letter said. Her heart raced as she looked at the cream-colored paper in his hand. “What did he say?”
Kase’s agitated eyes looked at Winslow, then they pounced back on her. The pounding in her chest seemed to grow louder, and her breathing felt labored.
Why didn’t Kase say what was in the letter? Why was he stalling?
“What?” she demanded. “Tell me what the letter says.”
“Your father is not interested in giving up the weapons in exchange for your return home,” Winslow finally said.
“What?” she breathed out, trying to make sense of his words.
Winslow stroked his brow, not answering her.
Myka stood, grabbing the letter out of Kase’s hand. Her wild eyes scanned the paper, taking in each word as fast as she could. The handwriting matched her father’s, and tears streamed down her face as she realized her fatherwasstill alive. But as she continued to read the words, a new kind of pain pierced her.
To the enemy of Tolsten,
I am flattered that your little group is so interested in my weapons. You may even think you have the upper hand, but I can assure you that there is nothing you can do that puts you in the power position. I alone hold all the power.
I will not meet your demands to give up the weapons in exchange for the safe return of my daughter. You can do what you want with her. She means nothing to me. I have a bigger plan and a secret weapon that nobody will see coming. I’d be worried about that if I were you.
King Adler
Myka blinked back her tears. She had gone from being elated that her father was still alive to feeling like someone had stabbed her in the heart. She turned to look at Drake. His hands were on his hips, and his jaw was hard.
“No.” She shook her head as she held up the letter. “No, this isn’t right. Something is wrong. My father would never say this.”
Her eyes darted to Kase. “Did you watch my father write this?” She already knew the answer to that question even before she asked it. No one was allowed to see her father as part of the ruse that he was recovering from surgery, and not dying from a deadly illness.
Kase shook his head. “No.”
“Is that his handwriting?” Winslow asked.
She studied the paper again. It was close to his handwriting, but there were a few curves that seemed different. She didn’t know if that was because her father was too weak and sick to write or if someone else like his secretary, Nolan, had written it. “It might be his handwriting,but that’s not how he would react.”
“Maybe you don’t know your father as well as you think you do,” Portlend said.
She flashed her hurt-filled eyes at him. “This is just another lie. That’s all you guys do, fill my head with lies.”
“Lies? Myka, he admitted to having the weapons.” Drake tilted his head to her. “What more proof do you need?”
She didn’t need any more proof, but at the moment, she couldn’t face admitting to these men that her entire life had been a lie. She was desperate for another explanation. “You guys probably wrote this, trying to get me to turn against my father.”
Grady shook his head. “How would we know what your father’s handwriting looks like?”
“I don’t know,” she said, raising her voice. “All I know is this isn’t him.” One tear dropped, and she wiped her cheek forcefully, getting rid of the evidence. “He loves me! He wouldn’t abandon me.”
“He just did.” Dawsick laughed, gesturing to the paper.
Myka slammed the letter against Kase’s chest and stormed away toward the river. The sky above darkened with storm clouds, and in the distance, the slow rumble of thunder moved across the sky, but right now, all Myka could focus on was the storm seething inside of her.
She’d only made it about fifteen feet before a hand wrapped around her forearm, forcing her to spin around.
It was Drake.
“Don’t touch me!” she yanked her arm away.
