Page 11 of The Prince (Spy Girl 1)
We enter the castle through a set of French doors that lead directly to the King's suite. I know I'm with the Prince and that we checked in at the gates, but this seems way too easy. I could take out both the King and the Prince in less than a minute if I were playing for the other team.
The King looks very tired, but his face lights up when he sees his son. "Lorenzo!" he exclaims.
"Hello, Papa, how are you feeling today? I brought a friend for you to meet, and we have a surprise for you."
"Are you getting married?" he asks.
The Prince blushes. "No, we have just met, but I am hoping she will accompany me to the events this week."
"Including the Queen's Ball?"
"Um, yes. Except I haven't formally asked her yet." He turns toward me and holds out his hand. I take it and allow him to lead me toward the bed. "I'd like you to meet Huntley Von Allister."
"Von Allister? As in Ares Von Allister?"
"Yes, he was my father. Did you know him?"
"A long time ago, yes. When we were young men. How is he?"
"He passed away a few weeks ago."
The King looks somber and reaches for my hand. "I'm sorry for your loss. He was an interesting man. Smart as hell. And you are quite beautiful. I can see why my son fancies you."
"Thank you, Your Highness. But I think Lorenzo might fancy my car a bit more than me."
"Your car?"
I smile. "He had me pull it up to your terrace so that you could come out and see it."
"What kind of car is it?"
"A Koenigsegg. One of only two produced. Prior to this car, they only had access to a traditional black carbon fiber, but this one is white."
"White?"
"Yes, a silvery, sparkling white that looks like millions of diamonds when the sunlight hits it."
The King smiles and sits up. "This I must see." He looks over at a nurse. "Can we unhook this thing?"
"Yes, of course," the nurse says, undoing the IV.
"I haven't had a proper stroll in a few days."
"Huntley, why don't you lead the way?" Lorenzo suggests, so I walk slowly toward the doors, suddenly realizing how few clothes I have on. I only threw a short cover-up over my bikini when I took the Prince to see my car.
I turn around and notice both the men are following me with grins on their faces. I'm not sure if it's from seeing my backside or the excitement of the car, but whichever works. The King looks happy right now.
"Wow, now that's a car," the King says. "Tell me about it."
"Koenigsegg aluminum V8, double overhead camshafts. Zero to 100 kilometers per hour in 2.9 seconds. Top speed of over 410. The fuel tanks are integrated for optimal weight distribution and safety, and it even has a detachable hardtop."
The King moves around the car. "The color is stunning. Will this be in the auto show?"
I shake my head.
"You must remedy that, Lorenzo," he says.
"Yes, I must."
His father seems to tire quickly, so we escort him back inside and say goodbye.
"Thank you for making my day," the King says, giving me a wink. "And try to keep him out of mischief."
"I'm probably the wrong girl for that job," I tease.
The Prince takes my hand and leads me into the castle's hallway. It has a magnificent hand-painted, barreled ceiling set atop massive stained-glassed windows.
"This hallway alone is worth the price of admission."
"This hallway isn't on the tour. It's part of my parents' residence." He pulls me into his arms. "Thank you for that. For being so kind to my father."
"You're welcome."
"My one regret is that my father won't get to see me marry. I have spent too much time behaving like a boy. My twenty-sixth birthday is coming up in a few years. If I don't choose a wife by then, one will be chosen for me. My father worries my playboy ways mean I'm not mature enough to rule."
"Doesn't Parliament rule?"
"The answer to that is, sort of. The parliament oversees the day-to-day operations of the country, but the King rules and controls the military. I had to do a stint with our Royal Maritime Division."
At least he's not a wimp who can't take care of himself.
He brings his lips to mine in a soft kiss and murmurs, "Would you like to be my princess?"
I back away, rolling my eyes. "Does that usually work?"
"What ever do you mean?"
"I suppose dangling jewels in front of every girl you bed would get expensive, but the promise of being a princess--that's cheap."
"Are you saying I'm cheap?"
"I'm saying you'll say anything to get a woman into bed."
"Sweetheart, we both know all I have to say is that I'm a prince, and they spread their legs willingly. Honestly, it gets a little tedious. I get the feeling you aren't interested in me."
I let out a laugh. "So, of course, that makes you want me. Princes are probably used to getting everything they want."
"Shall we test that theory in my bedroom? I can make it the next stop on our tour," he says, raising a dark eyebrow in my direction.
"No." It's obvious, the only way I'm going to keep his attention is by pretending not to be interested. He takes my hand, undeterred.
"See, I don't get everything I want. Are you spoken for?"
"No."
"Are you sleeping with Daniel?"
"No comment."
"So, you do sleep around?"
"Sometimes, if the mood strikes me. But I'd prefer romance on the path to love."
"I can do romance," he says, stealing another kiss.
"Your accent is sexy as hell."
"All of me is sexy as hell, but I'll let you discover that slowly."
"And the promise of a castle tour?"
"Still good. If you will allow me to escort you to the Queen's Ball."
"I'd be honored."
He holds out his elbow for me. "Then let the tour commence. The hallway you see here is built on the foundation of the original castle built in the twelfth century. The castle was built and rebuilt numerous times over the years as pieces of it were destroyed by war. Descendants of the House of Vallenta have ruled from this palace for over eight hundred years. This hallway is so ornate because at one time it led from the Court of Honor to the Throne Room. Now, it leads from the King's home, to the Prince's residence, and then beyond to the public areas of the castle."
He takes me through room after room filled with incredible architecture and history.
The library is particularly spectacular--octagonal in shape with stone walls and tall, arched bookcases with thick moldings accented by black onyx.
The Prince pulls out books of ancient poetry and reads them to me.
"Here's a good one by San Agustin," he says, flipping through another. "La medida del amor es amar sin medida."
"The measure of love is
to love without measuring," I say, quickly translating. "That's really pretty and--" I stop speaking when gunshots ring out.
"What the hell?" The Prince's eyes get big, and he goes rushing toward the door.
I grab his shirt to stop him, quickly transitioning from flirting to readiness while pretending to be nervous. "Where is your guard?"
"I left him at your place. I forgot to tell him we were leaving."
An alarm sounds.
More shots ring out, sounding closer this time.
I don't know what's going on, but we are sitting ducks here in the library. The only way out, besides the two palladium windows, is the long hallway we've been working our way down. I imagine an ops team storming the castle and now sweeping each room in pairs until they find what they want. The good news is I can't smell any kind of poisonous gas, haven't heard any flash bangs, and can't see assault team movement outside the windows.
"What's your security protocol in a time like this?"
"Screw protocol. I need to see what's going on." He tries to shrug me off.
"Don't you watch movies? I'm assuming gun fire is not an everyday occurrence in the castle?"
"Well, no."
"Lorenzo, you're the Prince. It's your responsibility to your country to keep yourself safe."
"How do I know you're not mixed up in whatever this is?"
"Because you'd already be dead."
He nods. "Good point."
His eyes fill with fear. Fear can be paralyzing.
I gently squeeze his hand to calm him. His eyes are moving wildly with every shot that rings out. I remember reading about all the castle's secret passageways.
"When you were little, did anyone tell you where to hide if anything like this ever happened?"
He looks at me with surprise. "Yes, my grandfather, when I was young. I totally forgot about that." He starts to sing. "The spotted dog is your friend. Wag his tail then go to the end."
He grabs my hand and starts to run toward the door. I pull back. "Where is the dog?"
"The War Room down the hall."
The sounds of gunfire get closer.
I immediately pull the Prince away from the door and toward the fireplace, where I push the third fleur de lis--causing a piece of wood paneling to slide open. I pull him into the passage, knowing we don't have much time. He starts to ask me how I knew to do what I just did, but I hold my fingers to his lips as we quickly and quietly make our way to the War Room.
There's a peephole, thankfully, allowing me to see inside. The room appears to be empty.
But I can feel the chaos in the air. As if someone were breathing on the back of my neck. Danger is near.
But it's now or never.
"Can you wag the spotted dog's tail, quickly? Without exposing yourself?"
