The Locked Drawer

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"Jazz! Jazz, listen to me."

Servants and courtiers alike jumped out of the way as Jazz strode along one of the corridors in the inner palace, Prince Andrew not far behind, still dressed like a peasant.

"Sire, what in the world are you wearing?" Binky asked, staring in horror at the clothing as Andrew rushed past, catching his arm to stop him. "We can't have you walking around like that."

"Not now," Andrew said, shaking him off, sidestepping to bypass Binky's followers and, for a second, losing sight of Jazz as he turned the corner. Quickening his pace, Andrew followed, turning the corner to see that Jazz had been momentarily waylaid by one of the princesses.

"Why do you look so upset?" Princess Charlotte asked, holding Jazz's arm, looking up at him in surprise, he so rarely showed any negative feelings.

"It doesn't matter," Jazz muttered, pulling away and walking on but not before Andrew caught up, catching his arm and forcing him to stop.

"Jazz, listen, you're over reacting," Andrew said, his voice lowering as everyone around them pretended not to listen.

"I have things to do, Andy, not now," Jazz said, not looking at him as he pulled away.

"Jazz, we were just talking," Andrew said, falling into step with him.

"It's fine, you can do whatever you wish. You're the Crown Prince, after all. I know she rather likes you."

"Jazz," Andrew said, shocked. "You're making it sound like I would abuse my position."

"Everyone loves a prince," Jazz muttered bitterly.

"Jazz," Andrew said, taking his arm again and forcing him to stop. "I was merely proving a point."

"What point?"

Andrew let out a breath as he looked down at Jazz's bowed head. "I was telling her that I knew she was The Duchess."

Jazz went still. Andrew waited. He had Jazz's attention now. Slowly, Jazz looked up.

"What do you mean?" he asked, carefully.

Andrew smiled slightly. "Both of you must work on your expressions when it comes to lying," he said and Jazz snatched his arm away. "Sorry, I'm sorry, no joking. We were just talking. I was saying I believed her to be The Duchess. I concluded that because of the way you behaved around her."

"I don't behave in any particular way," Jazz snapped, turning on his heel and walking away.

Andrew resisted the urge to roll his eyes and followed. "Again, poor at lying," he muttered under his breath then said out-loud. "Be that as it may, I believe I am correct."

"Does it even matter?" Jazz spat back at him.

"I would like to know who she is."

Jazz stopped so suddenly Andrew walked into him.

He looked down at him as Jazz looked at the ground.

"I don't know," Jazz muttered, "You know that. I don't know who she is."

Andrew let out a breath.

"Do you know who the woman was?" Jazz suddenly asked, changing the subject, his head snapping up, "The one whose dress was patterned with a snake?"

Andrew stared blankly at him. "I'm sorry, I haven't the faintest idea who you're talking about. There were at least two dozen people who attended as snakes and most I couldn't put a name to."

Jazz was quiet for a moment, then pushed him back and walked away.

"Jazz, please," Andrew sighed. "I'm sorry."

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