Ordinarily, I would consider it a bad idea to flirt with a Prince. It could be rather dangerous, in fact. But considering that something very strange was going on in this palace, having another member of the royal family on my side wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“I’m certain it will be,” I said, attempting to match Kennet’s playful grin with my own, and he laughed warmly.
Kennet led us down the spiral staircase toward the private quarters. The main floor was entirely above the surface of the lake, while the private quarters and the ballroom were located underneath the water. As soon as we went downstairs, the musty scent grew stronger.
While an underwater palace sounded like a magical and grand thing, the impracticality of it seemed to have taken its toll. Wallpaper lined the hallway—blue with an icy sheen—but it had begun to peel at some of the corners. Even the navy-and-white checked tiles on the floor had begun to warp in a few places. All damage from the constant moisture of being in a lake.
As I suspected, Kennet led me to the room I had stayed in before, after first dropping Kasper off several doors away. The valet had already carried my bags down, and I was pleased to find them sitting on the lush bedding.
The wall to the outside bowed out, like a fishbowl, and the darkness of the water seemed to engulf the room. Despite all its luxurious trappings, the room filled me with a sense of unease. Like I was a dolphin on display at a zoo.
“In case you don’t remember from last time, the bathroom is across the hall,” Kennet explained; he’d followed me inside the room, standing directly behind me as I stared out at the lake. “My room is in the other wing, should you need me for anything at all.”
I turned back to face him, and despite the gnawing ache in my heart over Ridley, there was something in Kennet’s smile that made it … not exactly easy to smile back, but at least not so hard and not quite so painful.
“I trust that the room is in order for you,” Kennet asked, and I realized he hadn’t taken his eyes off me since we’d entered the room.
Smiling, I gestured around me. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
“If there’s anything you desire, I’ll be happy to get it for you.” And there it was again. A glint in his eye that somehow seemed both dangerous and a bit charming.
“Thank you, but right now the only thing I desire is a good night’s sleep,” I told him politely.
He arched an eyebrow. “You will let me know if that changes?”
“Of course.”
When he left, shutting the door behind him, I let out a deep breath and collapsed on the bed behind me. The day had left me exhausted in ways I didn’t even know were possible. It still felt as if a hole had been torn inside me, as if my very insides had been ripped out, leaving a cold shell.
But there was no time to cry or mourn what might have been between Ridley and me. It was over, the way it should’ve been a long time ago, and the only thing I could do was push past it and hope that eventually the pain would get more bearable.
EIGHTEEN
exchequer
First thing in the morning, Kennet took Kasper and me down to the guard station. The last time I’d been here, when Ridley and I had been investigating Linnea’s disappearance, we’d been denied access to the guards.
This time, Kasper and I were here specifically to see if there was any truth to Linnea’s concerns and to implement new standards for the guards so they’d be better protection for the royalty. That meant we had to be directly involved with the guards.
The guard station was a small round room at the center of the lower level of the palace. It was sparsely decorated, with three large paintings of the royal family the only adornments on its white walls. Four large desks were placed at odd angles, along with several filing cabinets.
Much like the rest of the palace, everything in this room looked as though it had seen better days, save for the steel vault on the other side of the room. It appeared to be sterling and new, as though it would fit better in a bank vault than an old office.
Hunched over one of the desks, a guard scribbled something down on a notepad. His golden hair was slicked back until it curled at the nape of his neck, with just a hint of silver at his temples revealing his age. Under the tailored sleeves of his dress shirt, his shoulders were broad and his biceps were rather thick.
Another man—younger than the first, closer to my age—with a slender build and a slightly upturned nose, sat perched on the edge of the desk. He’d been leaning over, watching what the older man was writing, but he instantly hopped to his feet when we walked into the room.
“Your Highness,” he said, bowing before Kennet.
The other man, who had been working on something, rose more slowly.