Elowen's POV:
The rest of the Queen's garden gathering passed in a haze.
I heard the conversations around me. I even responded when spoken to. But my thoughts remained firmly fixed on one very irritating problem.
My anklet.
More precisely—
The Crown Prince possesses my anklet.
I walked beside Selene as we followed the other ladies back toward the palace, the gravel path crunching softly beneath our shoes.
"You have been unusually quiet," Selene said.
Selene seemed cheerful.
"I think the Prince looked at me twice today," she said.
"That is encouraging," I replied.
She glanced at me suspiciously.
"You do not sound very impressed."
"I am simply being realistic."
Selene huffed.
"You are impossible, Elowen."
Perhaps.
But at the moment, I was far too distracted to argue.
My anklet was very small. In truth, most people would have overlooked it entirely.
The chain is so thin, delicate enough that one might miss it if they were not paying attention.
But it mattered to me.
And now the Crown Prince had it.
Worse still—
He had refused to return it.
The memory of his quiet voice replayed clearly in my mind.
"For your safety."
Infuriating man.
If he thought I would forget about it, he was mistaken.
I would confront him.
Privately.
And insist he give it back.
Selene continued talking beside me, unaware of my thoughts.
"I think Lady Mariette is becoming desperate," she said.
"Oh?"
"She spent half the gathering trying to speak with the Prince, but he barely acknowledged her."
"That must have been disappointing."
Selene lowered her voice slightly.
"You do not think he is already favoring someone, do you?"
I nearly laughed at the thought.
The Crown Prince had made it abundantly clear he did not favor anyone.
Least of all me.
"I doubt it," I said calmly.
Selene seemed relieved.
"That is good. I still have a chance."
She paused suddenly.
"Oh!"
"What is it?"
"I promised Lady Beaumont I would meet her in the eastern gallery."
"That sounds dreadful."
"It probably will be," Selene admitted. "But she insisted."
She squeezed my arm briefly.
"Come with me."
"I think I will walk for a while."
Selene tilted her head.
"You are in a strange mood today."
"I am simply tired."
That, at least, was not entirely a lie.
Selene shrugged.
"Very well. I will find you later."
She disappeared down the corridor, her bright gold dress catching the afternoon light.
I watched her go before turning in the opposite direction.
Now that I was alone, my thoughts returned immediately to my problem.
I needed to find the Crown Prince.
And convince him to return what was mine.
Unfortunately, locating him inside the palace would not be easy.
Before I had walked more than a few steps, a familiar voice spoke behind me.
"Lady Evermere."
I turned.
Lady Mariette Duvall approached with graceful steps, her expression pleasant as always.
"Lady Duvall."
"I hope I am not interrupting."
"Not at all."
She glanced down the hallway.
"I was actually hoping to find your sister."
"Selene?"
"Yes."
"She just went to the eastern gallery."
Mariette frowned slightly.
"Oh, dear."
"What is it?"
"A servant mentioned that Lady Selene left something behind earlier."
"That seems unlikely."
"I thought so too," Mariette said quickly. "But the servant insisted it was in the small music room near the west wing."
I hesitated.
Selene was not careless.
But people did forget things occasionally.
Mariette gestured toward a quiet corridor.
"It is only a moment's walk from here."
"If it belongs to my sister, I should retrieve it."
Mariette smiled.
"That would be most helpful."
I nodded politely and headed in the direction she indicated.
The corridor grew quieter the farther I walked.
Servants and nobles gradually disappeared until the hallway stood nearly empty.
At the end stood a small door, slightly open.
I pushed it wider.
The music room was dim and silent.
A piano stood against one wall, and sheets of music rested on a wooden stand.
I stepped inside.
I turned to leave.
The door slammed shut behind me.
The sharp sound echoed through the room.
I grabbed the handle immediately.
It would not move.
Locked.
A slow realization settled over me.
Lady Mariette Duvall.
I exhaled once, steadying myself.
Panic would solve nothing.
I tested the handle again, harder this time. The latch held firm. No give. No weakness.
Not an accident.
Deliberate.
I stepped back, eyes scanning the room more carefully now.
No other doors.
Tall windows—shut tight and latched from the outside.
No servants. No witnesses.
Just silence.
I moved to the door again and knocked, sharply this time.
"Open this."
Nothing.
I pressed my ear lightly against the wood.
No footsteps.
No retreating voices.
Whoever had locked it had already gone.
I straightened slowly.
Nothing.
I pressed my ear lightly against the wood.
No footsteps.
No retreating voices.
Whoever had locked it had already gone.
I straightened slowly.
Very well.
If Lady Mariette wished to remove me from something, then something was happening.
But is she trying to compete with me or..
Selene!
My jaw tightened.
She had not done this without reason.
Which meant—
This was not merely an inconvenience.
It was timing.
I crossed the room, testing the windows. The latches refused to budge.
I turned back, pacing once, twice.
Think! Think!
The palace was not careless with its doors. Someone had locked this from the outside, and unless a servant returned—
Or unless someone noticed my absence—
I would remain here.
My fingers curled slightly.
Selene would assume I had gone elsewhere.
Hailey would not question it immediately.
And Mariette—
Mariette would ensure no one came looking.
Clever.
I moved back to the piano, resting my hands briefly against the cool polished surface.
Time passed slowly in silence.
Too slowly.
I refused to sit.
Instead, I searched.
Drawers beneath the music stand.
Empty.
Cabinet along the far wall—
Locked.
Of course.
I let out a quiet breath.
"Very well," I murmured.
If I could not leave, I would wait.
But I would not forget.
Minutes stretched.
Then—
Footsteps.
Faint.
Approaching.
I turned sharply toward the door.
A pause.
Then the sound of a key turning.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Light spilled into the room.
And in the doorway—