The Dare Collection September 2018. Stefanie London
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us through, we finally stop in front of one that looks no different from the rest. X pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks what looks like the entrance to a prison cell. But when we enter we find rows of desks and intricate-looking computer equipment—and a to-go coffee cup on one desk marked by a lipstick imprint. But no drinker of said coffee.
X sighs. “Always on the run,” he says under his breath with a rueful sigh.
“Who?” I ask.
“What?” X counters. “Oh, I spoke aloud. Hmm... I’ll have to watch that. Bad habit.”
He walks up and down the rows of monitors, tapping a button here, touching a screen there. I look at Juliet, whose eyes are wide as she spins slowly to take in her surroundings. She seems as bewildered as I am—and I don’t bewilder easily.
“X...” I say slowly. “Who exactly are you?”
“Damien.” Juliet strides up next to me. “This man lives in the palace, knows all of its goings-on, and you don’t know who he is?”
I laugh. “When you say it like that, it does sound suspect. But since I was born, X has been here. And from what I hear about the machinations of our stepmother, Adele, and a secret organization from Nightgardin trying to use Evangeline to gain access to some ancient map, Edenvale would not have escaped such peril without X’s intervention. Do I know how he came to be the head of our security detail? Not entirely. But he’s here, and what I do know is that we are the better for it.” I say this with conviction. I may not be sure about much, but of this I am. “Still, X, old friend. You could maybe give us an answer or two. Set the princess’s mind at ease?”
X spins to face us both. He straightens his tie and tugs at the cuffs of his shirt.
“It was your mother’s...passing that initiated my—employment within the palace walls. But I do not work for the Edenvale government.”
I shrug. “Of course not,” I say. “You work private security for the royal family.”
X shakes his head. “That is the part I play, yes. It is what your father and your brothers believe. But it’s not the truth. At least not the whole truth.”
He pulls a dagger from the cuff of his shirt.
Juliet yelps, and without thinking I pull her to me, wrapping my body around hers.
X raises his hand, and I watch him take aim—at my head.
The blade flies, and I hear it whiz past my ear. I even feel the rush of air from the speed of the steel.
But it doesn’t touch me. It sinks into the wall a few feet behind me.
Juliet and I both turn to see where it landed. We approach the wall to find the point of the blade piercing the tiny body of a fly.
“Shit, X. Do you have a thing against flies?” I ask.
He stalks toward his blade, inspecting his expert throw.
“Not at all,” he says. “But this is not your everyday fly. It’s an escapee from our lab, which means someone forgot to seal the containment chamber. You could have been paralyzed with the juice of the Evernight poppy. It’s safe enough, but what a convenient way to incapacitate an enemy. However, when the paralysis wears off—I don’t think you’re ready for such an experience, Princess.”
Juliet lets out a nervous laugh.
“Evernight poppy? Paralysis? Flies? You speak as if you are some sort of international spy,” she says.
X grins. “Now,” he says, whispering so only I can hear, “we’re finally getting somewhere. Juliet, if you tell me what I need to know about Nightgardin’s Black Watch, I will tell your husband the truth about his mother’s death.”
All the blood drains from my face, and before I know what I’m doing, X’s lapels are in my hand, but it takes him mere seconds to gain control, pinning me against the wall, the dagger with the poisonous insect now held inches from my throat.
“Go ahead, Princess,” X says softly still. “Prove yourself to your husband and unlock the mystery of his birth.”
Juliet
“I know nothing about the Black Watch. Mother doesn’t permit me to sit in on her meetings with them.”
“Not one?” X quizzes, a strange, tight look on his face.
I shake my head. “Never.”
“Damn, I think she was right,” X mutters to himself, balling his left hand in a fist and driving against his thigh. “Damn, damn, damn. I hate when that happens.”
“Who?” I ask, baffled. “Who was right?”
His gaze refocuses, his eyes shuttering. “It’s not time to reveal that particular part of the puzzle,” he answers. “But I’m going to need both of you to take a seat.”
Damien holds out a chair for me. We exchange troubled glances before I sit.
“This is bad news, isn’t it?” I say to X.
He turns away, presenting me with his broad back. What an inscrutable man. Imagine living a life so full of secrets. How does he trust anyone? And better yet, why should I trust him? But Damien and his brothers trust him—and I trust them.
“According to Section Twelve, Article Nine, Paragraph Seven of the Nightgardin Conventions of Royal Rule, the heir to the throne is to begin meeting with the Black Watch at the age of maturity, which is eighteen.”
“I thought there were only eleven sections to the Conventions of Royal Rule,” I remark, puzzled. “In fact, I’m certain. I had to memorize every sentence in that giant snooze fest.”
X shakes his head. “There are twelve. But it appears there are people motivated in preventing you from learning all your true duties.”
I gasp, as the truth slams me. “Mother? Father?”
X turns around with a short nod. “Just so.”
“But...but...it doesn’t make any sense. What cause would they have to hide anything from me if I’m to be Nightgardin’s next queen?”
Damien’s expression is one of grave realization. “Perhaps...they never intended you to rule at all.” He speaks in a slow voice, a frown deepening the two lines above his crooked nose.
“But I’m their only child. The heir. The next in line. Who else is there but me? A distant third cousin? You don’t understand.” I speak fast. “I was raised in a strict fashion. My parents probably kept me from the Black Watch to keep me safe. To be protected from the burdens of the crown.” But even as I speak, I doubt the truth to my own words. I think of the lack of affection they displayed toward me—the threats if I ever breathed a word of my wicked weekend with Damien to anyone.
“Perhaps.” X rubs the rough scruff darkening his chin. “But perhaps not. Now more than ever it’s of the most vital importance for the safety of you and your unborn child to search your mind. Are there any memories that felt unsettling?”
Tears burn my eyes. “I’m not hiding anything from you. I swear on my life.”
“I believe you. But to my strange secret world, of which you are glimpsing only the tip of the iceberg here tonight, it could mean a great deal. Nightgardin is the most insular country in Europe, the leadership notoriously reclusive on the world stage. It’s incredibly difficult to get spies on the inside.”
My eyes widen, pleading with X—with Damien—to believe me. “I won’t pretend my upbringing was normal in this twenty-first-century world. I was cloistered. Not able to interact with other children once I hit puberty. I wasn’t even allowed to keep a lady’s maid for longer than a month. Mother said it was to keep me from doling out preferential treatment to subordinates—her words—but I think they didn’t want me to form connections.”
“Why?”