Royal Threat Read online

  “Who do you suspect?” I asked, now pacing behind her. “What’s their end game?”

  “Brock installed these few bedroom cameras—along with the program—onto my computer exclusively. No one else should have access to these few feeds.”

  “What about the rest of the palace cameras?”

  “Those go through the security team.”

  “You had Xander relieved of his Director of Security position,” I said. “But it was Brock who knew about these feeds.”

  “Are you saying I relieved the wrong director of service?” She sounded so unsure of herself, nothing like how she’d spoken and held herself when I’d first arrived there—when she was in power and things were going as she’d planned.

  “You know them better than I do. I’m just saying that Xander is in custody and we’re still plagued with security compromises. Have you told anyone else about these cameras, or that this is something you have exclusive access to?”

  “No one,” she said, biting her lower lip as she continued to stare at the screen.

  “This person also has access to the electronic locks. I keep my door locked at night, yet there seemed to be no struggle with opening my door.”

  “You should have guards posted outside your room going forward, like I have for Amelia… Perhaps now would be a good time to move her.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” I admitted. “But where?”

  Queen Dorothea swiveled in her chair to face me. “The bunker,” she said. “It’s completely separated from the rest of the palace. Power. Locks. Water. It has stored food—fully self-sufficient.”

  “Sub-level Three?”

  She nodded and crossed her legs, rocking her chair gently. “I can’t take any more chances.”

  “I agree,” I said. “You should sleep in there too.”

  “I don’t want to hide.”

  “You wouldn’t be,” I said. “It would only be for the nights so you can actually sleep.”

  “I suppose.” She paused. “The doctors will have to visit to keep up her treatment.”

  “How about when she needs a treatment, I’ll wheel her to them?” I suggested. “I don’t think anyone else should be allowed down there.”

  “Okay,” she said. She seemed disappointed to not include the doctors she’d relied so heavily on over the hard years of Princess Amelia’s life. “If you think that’s best.”

  “I do,” I insisted.

  I checked in on the Princess to get her move to the bunker under way. When I arrived, she was being washed up by Dr. Alden and Kimera. I patiently waited for them to finish, turning on the television to see coverage of the ongoing protests.

  They seemed to be breaking out in almost every ward—though the most concentrated and vocal demonstrations seemed to be coming from our very own backyard of Capital City. The palace would need to make another statement soon. Since Bethany was still missing, we needed Victoria to come home and make an appearance. I didn’t know if that would truly calm the public’s anger and mistrust, but it could start to help the palace in delivering a consistent message. Right now there was a huge mystery, fueled by frantic speculation, with what was going on behind the palace walls.

  “We’re almost done,” Kimera said, walking into the room to grab some clothes for the Princess.

  “Not a problem,” I said. After the night I’d had, it felt good to relax for a few minutes. At one point, I nearly dosed off.

  “The Princess is ready,” Kimera said, trailing Princess Amelia’s motorized wheelchair.

  Dr. Alden was the last to exit the washroom. “Where are you taking her?”

  “To the Queen,” I said.

  “The Queen typically comes here,” Dr. Alden said matter-of-factly. “It’s best to keep the Princess out of harm’s way.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, but the Queen has asked for the Princess to come to her in this instance. Has she had today’s treatment?”

  “This morning’s treatment, but she will need another this evening. She’ll be back here by then, correct?”

  “Of course,” I said, just to shut her up. At times, the doctors seemed to think the Princess was their collective child.

  “Good morning, Your Highness. I hope you slept well,” I said.

  “I did, Prince Byron. Thank you,” she said with her usual difficulty and facial asymmetry.

  Kimera approached the Princess and layered in a pearl and crystal hair comb to finish her simple, yet elegant ensemble.

  “I’m going to my mother?” Princess Amelia asked.

  “I’ll take you to her now,” I said.

  “I’ll come with you,” Dr. Alden said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said. When she was about to protest, I added, “I’m sure you’re very busy.”

  “I’m busy for the sake of the Princess.” Her eyes narrowed and she hovered around the wheelchair.

  “Then take a well-deserved break,” I said. “I can handle the Princess from here.”

  I led Princess Amelia out of the room. Dr. Alden started to follow, but stopped when I turned and glared at her. The Princess and I continued to the elevator behind the staircase, which only traveled as far as Sub-level One.

  Pax and Rod assisted me with getting the Princess the rest of the way to Sub-level Three. Queen Dorothea was skeptical that I had invited more people down to this level, but we had little choice to get the Princess this far.

  The Queen entered her code to open the gigantic vault door, which boomed and hissed as it opened like we’d be entering an airtight chamber. Cool lights inside blinked on with the opening of the door.

  Beyond was no mere room, but an extravagant apartment that housed more rooms than I could currently see. As I trailed the Princess inside, I gradually took in the apartment. All the furniture was covered with white sheets. Unlike the main living space of the palace, there were no chandeliers in there, only canned recessed lighting. I peeked into one of several bedrooms, which had a naked bed, dresser, and not much else. The air was stale and stuffy like nothing had been touched or moved in years.

  “Will the Princess need the equipment that’s usually in her room to be brought down?” I asked.

  “Not for now,” the Queen said. “With your help, we’ll bring her upstairs if she needs anything until this ugly business is behind us. Hopefully, it won’t be too long.”

  “I’ll work with my team to get it resolved quickly,” I said.

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Pax said.

  “We both will,” added Rod.

  “Yes,” I said. “It will be important to work fast, but keep it quiet so whoever’s behind this tries something else and gives us the chance we need.”

  We all helped with getting the apartment set up, uncovering the furniture, making the beds, taking inventory of what was stocked in the kitchen.

  “Are you going to be able to handle the cooking?” I asked the Queen, only half joking.

  “I’m not completely useless,” she said, only half amused.

  I helped get the Princess settled into her bedroom. She gazed around the room, her motorized chair swiveling in a complete circle.

  “Is there any music down here?” she asked.

  “I’ll ask the Queen—your mother,” I said. “She would know better than I do. If not, I can have something brought down.

  “I’d like my phonograph,” she said.

  “I’ll ask about it.”

  I left to find the Queen, who was adjusting the thermostat. Then she punched a finger onto the touchscreen on the wall beside it. It seemed to be a security system, with a view of outside the armored entrance.

  “What else would you like us to do while we’re down here?” I asked.

  “I think we’re good for now,” she said, stopping to look at me. “I’m going to stay with her for a little while. You can get started with your search.”

  “You’ll sleep down here, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Princ
ess Amelia is asking for her phonograph.”

  “I’ll bring it to her today,” she said.

  Pax and Rod were both standing by the entrance. I ushered them out and closed the massive door.

  “What’s next?” Rod asked.

  “First, I want to talk to Brock; see if I can get a sense if he’s holding anything back or not—see if he’s really an ally. I’d like you both to start another round of interrogations with the prisoners we’ve kept here. Maybe there’s something that was missed last time.”

  “We’ll get right on it,” Pax said and we headed upstairs.

  They went to the detention rooms on Sub-level One and I continued to the first floor. As I walked toward the main staircase, the front door opened and—and Victoria hobbled into the grand foyer.

  19

  Victoria

  As soon as I stepped in the front door, my attention locked on Prince Byron approaching from the hallway leading up to the main staircase. He stopped at the sight of me, momentarily unsure of who he was seeing. From sight alone—and without the aid of color-coded dresses—it could be hard to tell us apart. That was both an advantage and a disadvantage of being a clone.

  There were heavy shadows under his eyes and his hair didn’t look as well-groomed as he usually insisted upon in formal wear, reminding me of the few times I’d gone horseback riding with him. Personally, I liked this side of him better. His expression was a mix of anguish and anticipation.

  “Victoria… please tell me it’s really you,” he said, fidgeting with his hands until finally hooking his thumbs in his front pockets to center himself.

  “I hope it’s okay I’m back,” I said.

  “Are you kidding me?” Now he broke into a run to close the space between us and swept me into his arms.

  In that moment, all my pain ceased to exist. I buried my face in his chest, blocking out everything else in my life—everything I’d been through, everything I’d lost, everything I’d fought for.

  “I was afraid I’d never see you again,” he said, his words choked, cutting him off from saying more.

  “I’m here now,” I said.

  After a long pause filled with loud swallows and sniffles, he continued. “How did you get back?”

  “Gabriel drove me most of the way and I walked the rest.”

  “Gabriel… I owe him more than anyone.”

  “He saved all of us.” I let go, gazing up at him, trying to commit every last detail to memory.

  He looked away to hide and wipe his red eyes. When he turned back, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. “I don’t think I could survive losing you again.”

  “You won’t lose me,” I reassured him. “According to Kale, I’ve missed a lot since I’ve been gone.”

  “According to Kale, so have I. Are you okay?”

  “I will be—and so will Constance.”

  “You saved her?”

  “It was a group effort,” I said with a small smile, which quickly faded when I thought of who was still missing. “But Piper is still out there somewhere. I need to find her, but I came back to talk to the Queen about Bethany.”

  “Bethany? You’ve seen her?”

  “Not exactly. She’s not here?”

  The Prince’s expression darkened. “She disappeared later the same night that the rest of you were taken.”

  “Okay…” Now I was confused.

  “How about you tell me about Bethany. It seems I’m missing a critical part of the full story.”

  “Can we get the Queen in on the conversation? There are strange things going on.”

  “If you only knew the half of it,” Prince Byron agreed, and we set off together to find the Queen.

  He didn’t make a call, but seemed to know exactly where he was going. First, we entered Sub-level One, then Two. The dark corridors were quiet now. He held my hand, keeping me close as we traveled at a brisk pace—a little too much for my aching feet, but I didn’t want to complain.

  What I remembered of the endless construction was gone—or suspended due to all the issues the palace seemed to be having. There were broken-out walls and half-finished rooms on either side of us as we continued deep into the lower level of the palace. Dust still lingered in the air, making it thick and heavy. It wasn’t as hard to breathe as the last time I’d ventured down there, but my lungs still burned for fresh air.

  We stopped at a nondescript door, like countless others we’d passed, and Prince Byron removed some keys from his pocket and unlocked it. He held out his cellphone like a flashlight to allow us entrance without finding a light switch. Inside, the room was bare except for a rolled-up carpet on one side of the floor. Prince Byron headed straight for the sliding closet doors, opened them, and bent down to pull up a trap door in the floor.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what you might think it is.” He shone the cellphone light into the hole, illuminating a new set of stairs.

  “The Queen’s secret bunker?”

  “How do you know about that?” The Prince seemed genuinely surprised.

  “Frank’s set of palace plans had it drawn in,” I said. “He and Duke Mackenzie seemed to know all the secrets of this place.”

  “I should have guessed,” he said sourly and started down the stairs.

  “You don’t have to sound so upset about it. It’s not like I knew who he was and what he was going to do.” Now it was my turn to sound bitter.

  I kept a hand on the wall as I descended the narrow staircase. He shielded much of the light with his body, so I took every step with extreme care so I wouldn’t trip and send us both tumbling down. But at least the staircase was straight.

  A short corridor met us at the bottom, along with a massive door that looked like it could hold back a dragon.

  “So this is the room that doesn’t exist,” I said.

  “It very much does,” the Prince said and pressed a button on an intercom next to the door. “Your Highness, I’m back with Victoria. We need to talk.”

  A moment later, there were several clicks that seemed to signify the door unlocking. Prince Byron pulled at the handle and exerted himself to an astonishing degree to fully open the door.

  “How would the Queen do this alone?” I asked.

  “Not easily.” He was nearly out of breath from the effort.

  The inside didn’t reveal itself to look the way I thought a bunker should appear, but came across as more of a fully furnished, multiroomed living space. It did not have the same ostentatious appeal as the above-ground palace, but was far from plain. Just the air wafting out from the collection of rooms was fresher, allowing me to take my first comfortable deep breaths since we’d left the main floor of the palace.

  The Queen stepped into view in a beautiful emerald gown that hugged her curves, with a skirt only inches above the floor. Her lips curled into the most surprising smile I had ever seen from her, a radiance I’d only seen in limited pictures over the years. Her reactions were typically reserved, having to uphold her persona of a powerful ruler. I’d seen her break that careful control on several occasions, but never this positively. She glided over to me and embraced me like her long-lost daughter had returned—like I was that daughter.

  “Victoria, I’m so glad you’re alright,” she said and kissed my cheek—the first time she had ever kissed me. “I heard that you were saved and Prince Byron told you to stay away due to the rioting, but I’m so glad you are here now.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t expected this kind of welcome. “It—it’s good to be home.”

  “And this is your home—will be for both of you.” She released me and glanced at the Prince. “Did you call for her? You only just left.”

  “I’m as surprised as you are,” Prince Byron said.

  “If you did not get help from the Prince, then how did you get home? How were you not seen by rioters?”

  I certainly didn’t want to tell her that Gabriel drove me here, so i
mmediately thought of— “Kale drove me before returning to his family’s camp.”

  The Queen’s smile faded and I could see her physically coaxing herself not to scowl. “Luckily, they have nothing more we need.”

  “How can you say that?” I was shocked by her calloused words. I knew our role was to always replace Princess Amelia, but it was only ever for the public perception. I knew how much she cared about her daughter—at least she used to…

  Princess Amelia rolled out of a nearby room in her motorized wheelchair and my jaw almost hit the floor.

  “What’s going—Victoria!” One side of her mouth lifted into a beautiful half smile and her strained voice was so full of expression and excitement that she almost sounded like her health had improved since I last saw her. Her twisted and gnarled body in the wheelchair proved that was truly not the case. Though the radiance in her eyes shone like a true princess—one that could never be replaced.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, oscillating between Queen Hart and Prince Byron, then back to Princess Amelia. How much had changed since the short time I’d been gone?

  “We should sit,” the Queen said. “There is a great deal to discuss.”

  20

  Byron

  “That seems to account for two of the three dead clones,” Queen Dorothea said as the three of us sat around the small round table. It was the smallest table in the palace, but still had exquisite workmanship carved into the wood.

  “What happened with the girls after the Choosing Ceremony?” I asked.

  “Dr. Sosin was tasked with overseeing the cremation of the girls, to get rid of all evidence. He talked about examining their bodies first due to… due to what had happened.”

  “And what was that?” Victoria asked.

  The Queen refused to look her in the eyes when she spoke. “The kill switch should have worked on all of you—except the chosen replacement, which had been Bethany.”

  “It seems the kill switch didn’t work at all,” I said.