The local police—along with the media—had indeed arrived. Amid the red and blue lights and the flash of cameras, a cluster of reporters had gathered to await the official statement.
Waving at them, Ruben again went looking for his father. Usually the king handled press conferences, though Ruben would do so if needed.
The Captain of the Royal Guard, a large, dark skinned Pack member named Drake, informed him that the king would indeed deal with the press. He’d asked Ruben to tie up any loose ends before he did so.
Though it was nearly morning and he was weary to his bones, Ruben took care of business. While he conferred with palace guards and picked his way through the rubble that had once been the enormous foyer and receiving room of the palace, Willow’s image hovered in the back of his mind. Not the beautiful woman in the beautiful ball gown, but the grimy, soot-covered one who’d so selflessly helped him. Who was she? Where had she come from? And why had she run away?
Had she been frightened, or had her fleeing been something else entirely? He froze as an awful thought occurred to him. Had she known something about the bomb or who had planted it? Had she seen something or was she much more intimately involved? Did she know something about the extremists?
As much as he tried, he couldn’t immediately dismiss the idea. He’d thought he was familiar with every noblewoman around, not only in Teslinko but in the neighboring countries. But he had no idea who she really was, what nationality, or even who her people were.
When he’d first found her, she’d been hiding, keeping to herself, speaking to no one. She’d been practically skulking about. Had what he’d put down to shyness been in actuality an attempt to remain unnoticed?
One thing he knew for certain. When all this was over, he had to find her again.
Finally finished, he straightened his shoulders. Since the press conference would be starting in a few minutes, he turned to go in search of his parents again. As he did, he glanced down. There, among the soot and the rubble, near his feet, something shimmered. He bent, his muscles sore, and picked it up.
A woman’s earring, a dangling pearl, now sullied by ash and soot. An image flashed into his mind of the earring swinging gently as Willow turned her head. The earring was hers. She must have lost it in the craziness after the explosion.
Jaw set, he slipped the jewelry into his pocket. He’d seek Willow out, ostensibly to return her earring. While he was there, he’d ask her to explain exactly why she’d run and what she’d seen.
Kicking off her heels and lifting her sodden, ruined skirt in one hand, Willow took off. She ran, full-out, panic fueling her, grateful for the sudden spurt of energy that enabled her to go. She relished the feel of her legs pounding the earth and the wind whipping her hair, pushing away her weariness. When she reached the veil, she didn’t hesitate, leaping toward the shimmering space as though the hounds of hell followed her.
For all she knew, one of them did.
When she’d discovered the veil, she’d quickly learned not to stay overnight. If she did, too much time passed on the other side. Once she’d come home after spending eighteen hours among the humans, only to learn over a week had passed at home.
She couldn’t chance that happening again. Especially not now, when her parents had warned her that the two princes from EastWard would be arriving by the next day. One of these men—Prince Chad—was to be her betrothed. The other, Prince Eric, would wed her older sister, Tatiana.
There would be a ball—the irony of this didn’t escape her—and she would be expected to make an appearance. As a matter of fact, she’d planned to wear the dress she’d worn tonight, which was now hopelessly ruined.
Once she’d landed—this time, miraculously on her feet—she hurried home. As soon as the glistening gold of the castle came into view, she felt some of her panic subside. Judging from the way the moon still hung low in the horizon, time had remained the same, or close enough that her lateness wouldn’t matter.
Out of breath with her heart pounding from her exertion, she skidded to a stop and smoothed down her hair. There was nothing she could do about her ruined and filthy dress. At least everyone should still be asleep in their beds.
Hurrying up the glittering steps and grasping the huge handle of the castle door, she pulled the heavy door open and slipped inside.
All quiet, exactly as it should be. So far, so good.
Then, as she turned the corner that would lead toward the stairs, she heard it. Coming from down the hall, emanating from the direction of one of the receiving rooms, the sound of harp music and muted laughter.
Oh, dark. Her heart in her throat, she froze, listening. Was this a party that had continued into the predawn hours? What else could it be? Had the East-Ward group already arrived? Her stomach clenched. She hoped not. If she’d missed some kind of welcoming reception, her mother would be furious with her.
Another laugh, deep and masculine, drifted down the hall. Immediately following, her sister Tatiana’s signature giggle. If this wasn’t the EastWard group, then her older sister had been entertaining another gentleman caller for the entire night.
Blech. Though Willow wouldn’t put it past Tatiana. One last fling before settling down to a boring married life would be the way her older sister would look at it.
Hoping she was wrong, Willow gave the room a wide berth and hurried to her room to shower and change out of her ruined dress into her pajamas. Hopefully she could manage to catch a few hours of sleep before anyone came looking for her.
The next morning, full sunlight lit her room when she finally opened her eyes. The clock on the night-stand next to her bed read eleven thirty-five. Nearly noon.
Though her first instinct was to panic and jump out of bed so she could rush through her normal morning preparations, after a moment of thought, she reconsidered. Stretching, she allowed herself to wallow in the unexpected luxury of sleeping in. Since no one had bothered her or, more specifically, come to chew her out, she’d have to assume that the EastWard group hadn’t yet arrived.
As she snuggled under the covers, her door swung open. Tatiana rushed into the room, slamming the door behind her. She wore one of her most glittery dresses, the shifting colors of white, gold, silver and blue giving Willow an instant headache.
“Good, you’re here,” Tatiana gushed, her golden hair all done up in ribbons and curls. Then, as she took in the sight of Willow snuggling under the covers, she frowned. “Why are you still in bed?”
Briefly Willow entertained the thought of telling her sister that frowning made a deep furrow appear right in the middle of her perfectly shaped eyebrows, but decided against it. “Thanks for knocking,” she said. “What do you want? I was sleeping.”
“This late?” Tatiana snorted. “Right. You forget, I know you. You’re hiding, aren’t you?”
Cautiously, Willow peered up at her sister. The waist of Tati’s sparkling dress had been cinched so tightly, it was a wonder the older girl could breathe. Her full breasts threatened to spill out if she moved the wrong way. The glittering material barely covered them, though the way it had been arranged put them on blatant display.
Of course. Tatiana was getting ready to meet her fiancé. She wanted to look her best.
“Why would I need to hide?” Cautiously, Willow sat up.
Narrow-eyed, Tatiana studied her. Her painted lips finally spread into a malicious grin. “You honestly don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“I’ll bet you didn’t show up at the welcome reception last night, did you?”
“Didn’t you notice?” Willow volleyed back. What kind of sister doesn’t discern whether or not her younger sibling was in attendance? She knew the answer to that one.