I’m sent through to speak to the King right away. He seems somber, but not shaken.
“Was anyone hurt, Jakob?” the King asks, standing behind his desk. Remus is there, too, standing by the window, running his hands through his sandy hair and peering outside every few minutes; anxious tics he picked up from a lifetime of captivity and worry. I was the one risking my life every day, but as the King’s childhood friend and then unofficial bodyguard, the stress and tedium must have been excruciating.
They will have heard the essentials, so I cut to, “The smoke bomb came flying through a plate glass window into the restaurant at the hotel, fizzing with sparks and erupting with red smoke. No one was hurt. There were no projectiles. I saw everyone walk out on their own two feet.”
The King’s shoulders relax a little. “You were in the restaurant?”
“Yes. I was having dinner with Lady Sachelle.” I take a deep breath. “This shouldn’t have happened. I haven’t done enough to catch the insurgents. If you want me to, I’ll hand in my resignation.”
“No!” Remus immediately exclaims.
I keep my eyes on the King, hunting for even a flicker of misgiving. If I don’t have his confidence, then there’s no point in me staying in this role.
“Jakob, I’m not going to ask you to resign over this, especially after all you’ve been through for me.”
As I gaze at him, I see his youthful face, as he looked at twelve. Pinched and pale and unhappy, glimpsed through a ventilation grate in the room that was acting as their prison. The way I saw them year after year.
Tell us what’s happening out there. All they tell Remus and me are lies.
We can beat them one day if you’re our eyes and ears.
They told us the Levanter brothers and Reynard Desjardins are dead. They couldn’t wait to tell us. Don’t die, too, Jakob. Don’t get caught, whatever you do.
Remus is studying me with tightly folded arms. “I feel as if this has shaken you more than anything that happened under the People’s Republic.”
Perhaps it has. Now that King Anson is on the throne, the hardest task of all will be keeping him there. “If you need me, Your Majesty, I’m not going anywhere.”
“We need you,” the King says firmly. “We’ll always need you. Thank god you’re all right and it was just a smoke bomb. Has it occurred to you that you were probably the target?”
It’s possible. I’m the one who’s chasing down people who would do something like this. “I don’t know. I’ll need to see the list of diners before I draw any conclusions.” I try and think back to who was at the nearby tables, but all I see is Sachelle sitting close to me as the projectile shattered the window.
I seized an opportunity beneath that table. I couldn’t help myself. There’s something captivating about a proud, beautiful woman who wouldn’t hesitate to puncture your lung with her stiletto heel if you look at her the wrong way. I like to know a woman can handle herself. That she won’t crumple at the first sign of trouble. Or, if she’s going to crumple, it will be in my arms while she begs me to make her come.
As I head out to my car, I receive a phone call from Galen, Archduke Levanter’s sole surviving brother.
His tone is grim. “I heard everything from Devrim already. I’m just calling to see how you are.”
“I’m angry,” I say, relieved that it’s Galen and that I can vent some of my frustration finally. “What do these people want, to be under a dictator’s thumb again?”
“Not everyone was going to be thrilled that the country is a monarchy again. Varga had loyal followers, and his children are still out there somewhere. Maybe they’re even behind this.”
“I’m going to find out who was responsible and they’re going to pay,” I say through my teeth. “Is Matilda all right?” There’s silence on the line, and I realize I’ve put my foot in it. “Never mind. Sorry. I forgot you two weren’t close anymore.”
I wonder if that’s my fault, because I couldn’t save her father Reynard from execution.
“You’ll find whoever did this,” Galen assures me. “You’ve got all the resources you could need, now.”
My mouth quirks, remembering how I used to scramble around for a handful of bullets for missions and enough gasoline to get me out into the mountains to see the King. “True. Night, Galen.”
It’s nearly eleven at night when I pull up to Balzac House. The lights are still on in the front windows. The Duchess greets me at the front door and thanks me for getting Sachelle home safely.
“Can I speak to her in private, Your Grace? I haven’t had the opportunity to ask her any questions. She might have seen something useful.”