Dirty Dealers

We cross the large living area to the smaller office in the back corner. I’ve clicked my way around this place enough to have a good feel for the layout, and while I might classify the office as “smaller,” it’s much larger than my tiny apartment.

We’re about to enter when a male voice intercepts us. “Excuse me, your highness.”

“What is it, Freddie?” Ava tries to keep going, but he stops her.

“The king asked for you.”

“Oh…” She lets out a sigh and touches my hand. “Would you tell Zee I’ll be right back?”

“Of course.”

The two leave me alone, and I hear the happy echoes of voices inside. I start to enter until Logan’s voice stops me. Why is he here?

“She’s grown,” he says, an undeniable warmth in his tone.

“She misses you.” The female voice on the computer is equally warm. It sparks an uncomfortable, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “She says Ga. You know what that means?” Her voice goes to a breathy sing-song. “You’re looking for Logan, aren’t you?”

“Your majesty—” he begins, but she interrupts him.

“Just because you’re in Monagasco, nothing has changed.”

My throat tightens at that. What does she mean, nothing has changed?

“It’s true.” He sounds… guilty? I don’t understand.

“Then no more of this ma’am and your majesty business. It’s Zee and Logan. Yes?”

A brief pause, before he answers, and I hear him smile. “Always.”

The tiny voice squeals. “See? She misses you!” Zelda says, and he laughs.

“I think she does.”

“Please come and visit us soon.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Logan’s voice is loving and warm. It reminds me of how he sounded those few heavenly days I was in his arms… before I hurt him. Before I lost him.

I have to get out of here.

“I’m back!” Ava calls, passing me at the door and quickly running toward the voices.

The sisters squeal and laugh and make all sorts of baby noises. Ava’s niece responds with cute little coos and attempts at saying words.

I’m standing in the doorway dying inside. A knot is in my throat and it twists into a ball of sadness and loss in my stomach.

I can’t take anymore. Ava is wrong. They’re all wrong. Logan is clearly in love with this woman and her baby, and I’m only a cheap substitute. I’m a damaged version of the clever, smart survivor they all love and miss. I’m the rotten apple, and I’ve got to go before I ruin everything.

Unshed tears sting in my eyes as I flee. Using my hands and my memory, I navigate my way through the living room, headed to the kitchen and the small bedroom where I spent my first night here. All the clothes and sweaters I’ve worn over the last several days were borrowed. I’ll have to wear this outfit home, but I can return it once I have my own things.

“You’re here!” Nesbit startles me when I enter the kitchen. “I believe the king wanted to see you. Stay here while I fetch him.”

I freeze in place, nerves tingling. I can’t imagine why Rowan would want to see me. I don’t have permission to leave. Perhaps he’ll say I have to stay. Then my prisoner status will be confirmed. “Of course.”

She leaves the room, and I wait wondering, listening to the noise of an oven fan, a pot boiling on the stove. The kitchen smells like tea and nutmeg. She’s baking some kind of spiced bread, possibly pumpkin.

Voices appear in the passage, and I spin toward them. “Ah, Cassandra.” It’s a voice I’ve only heard one other time.

“Grand duke,” I say, stepping back to curtsey.