Page 69 of Pretense

“The guards are starting with the family wing, but it will be slow work with so many guarding Bertie and Finn and the ballroom.” Julien grimaced. “One would almost think that was his plan all along.”

There were even fewer guards since some had been sent along with the raid being conducted by the Intelligence Office.

What was his target? Was he trying another assassination attempt? That did not make sense, trying to attack people in the sections of the palace that were the most well-guarded.

One of the castle pages raced into the room. He gave a hurried bow and waved a piece of paper. “I have a message for you, Prince Edmund.”

Edmund took it, reading quickly. The raid had gone well, and the guards and intelligence officers were confiscating the press, the plates, and the counterfeit money. They had successfully surprised them while they had been in the process of moving the money. But a few of the junior editors remained unaccounted for.

“The raid is progressing well.” Edmund passed the note to Julien and dismissed the page.

“Let’s report to Averett. We’re trying to keep this quiet for the sake of the guests.” Julien tucked the note into a pocket.

Edmund nodded and followed. Once back in the ballroom, they rejoined Averett and Jalissa and reported to them in lowered voices. Paige had gone back to be with the boys to help ensure their safety.

Edmund found it harder than ever to pretend that nothing was happening. The search of the castle seemed to be taking forever, and he itched to join them instead of sitting here like a pampered prince. He had dealt with plenty of danger as a spy alone in a foreign kingdom. But here he was a prince who needed coddling.

A niggling started in the back of his mind. There was something that he should notice.

Jalissa was easing closer, saying his name. He held out his arm, but his brain was too full to react more than that. He had to figure out what his spy instincts were telling him.

The head editor had used this party as an excuse to sneak into Winstead Palace. The remaining reporters, who had been quietly escorted away by guards, were not saying anything about where he had gone, but they were more confused than belligerent. Depending on when the editor sneaked out, he’d had plenty of time to try to kill his target, if assassination had been his plan.

If not assassination, then what? What else would he be here for?

Maybe something in Averett’s study? Or the castle’s records room?

Edmund stilled. Or the Intelligence Office. Whether by design or by accident, the head editor ended up here in the palace on the perfect night to search through the Intelligence Office. “I think I know what he’s after.”

Jalissa, Averett, and Julien turned to him, but he couldn’t explain here. The bustle in the ballroom was dying down as nobles retired for the evening and the elves left for the temporary shelters they had grown in the trees of the parkland. But it was still too busy, and there was too much to explain.

Edmund simply turned and headed for the nearest door. He could hear the others on his heels, but he had to get to the Intelligence Office. As soon as he left the ballroom, he broke into a run.

He raced down the hallway, swerved around several corners, then took the staircase down to the lower levels of the executive wing, where all the administrative duties were performed. A group of guards bustled down the hallway, and he all but careened off the wall to get around them without slowing down.

At the large double doors, he had to skid to a halt in front of the soldiers guarding those doors and preventing the sensitive material gathered by the Intelligence Office from falling into the wrong hands.

“Has anyone else come through here?” Edmund rested his hands on his knees, gulping in deep breaths.

“A guard came through a little while ago. He said there is a possible assassin here in the castle. More guards are searching here.” The guard waved back the way Edmund had come.

A single guard. The guards should have been searching in pairs at the very least.

Edmund hurried past the guards and entered the wing that held the Intelligence Office. He headed straight for the room where he worked and halted inside the door.

He recognized the two men and one woman who hunched over desks. Other than that, the room was empty.

Behind him, he could hear Averett talking to the guards, then the footsteps of multiple people coming closer.

He didn’t wait for them to catch up. Instead, he wandered through the room, checking each of the desks to see if anything looked out of place.

Edmund halted next to one of the occupied desks. “The guard that was here looking for the assassin. What did he look at while he was here, and where did he go?”

Rick, one of the analysts for the Escarlish spies in Mongavaria, glanced up, then gestured in the direction of Edmund’s desk. “He wandered about a bit, checking around each of the desks. He spent some time by your desk, I think. He left a while ago, heading for the records room.”

Not good. Not good at all. “What did he look like?”

“Dark brown hair, long face. It was hard to tell much past his uniform cap.” Rick shrugged. “I didn’t get that good a look at him.”

---