The Golden Princess (#4 in the GOLDEN series) ✔

•F I F T Y - S I X•

Céleste had had no choice but to leave her be.

How to ease her into this new life without her family?

Antoine trudged up to her. "To do what? Investigate? We have no idea what we are searching for, and we are not familiar with the layout of this castle."

"You," Prudence's rigid arm lifted as she pointed at Antoine, "will dig through Romain's Study. Perhaps his Meeting Room." She rotated to her left and jut her chin to a hall behind the staircase. "Down there, to the right, the two doors on the left wall. Start with his Study." She returned to him. "Go through his drawers, the bookcases, inside the books—"

"—but what am I looking for?" Antoine kept a slight distance between them, but it was evident his fingers itched to wrap around Prudence's wrist.

Prudence brushed a strand of her mangled golden hair behind her ear. "You will know. You are a King and will view importance in things I do not. Treaties, paperwork, unsigned documents, letters... anything. Keep an open mind." She snorted. "Oh, and anything involving Cornelius, Adelaide, or my mother, of course."

He moved towards her, as if to rub her arm or caress her cheek; but when she flinched, he refrained and slouched instead.

"Are you all right to—"

"—go." She signaled the road to the Study once more. "Down the hall, to the right, second door on the left. Thank you."

Dejected, King Antoine dropped his chin in some semblance of a nod and took off in the direction she'd indicated. "And you? Where will you be?"

"Upstairs." She kept her back to him, stiff as a board, unwilling to watch him withdraw from her presence.

Antoine hurried off without another word.

Céleste couldn't help but wonder if Prudence's condition would change anything between her and Antoine. She held his baby in her belly; would that destroy their relationship further? Or strengthen it?

"Upstairs for us too?" Sébastien's voice was softer, his footfalls lighter as he inched nearer.

Prudence didn't cringe at his approach. "Yes. I need you both to check my mother's Study. She might have hid other secrets that Cornelius and Sarah knew of. Something that would make her a threat to his cravings for power, and I must learn what that might be to better incriminate him."

Céleste grabbed Sébastien's hand, but focused on Prudence, who proceeded up the steps, to lead the way. Céleste didn't dare speak to the Princess, still unable to find the appropriate comments to soothe her.

Sébastien squeezed her palm as they glided upwards. "She will be all right," he said, his gaze locked on Prudence as she climbed. "Give her time."

"I know." Céleste gulped, remembering how long it had taken her to move past her own mother's death. To top it all, Prudence had lost her brother, too. Unpleasant as he'd been in Torrinni, the Princess seemed to have cared for him. "I only hope she finds her answers. And her proof."

On the first floor landing, Prudence accepted a lantern from a soldier, and Sébastien received a torch. The Princess walked straight ahead, through a stuffy, smoky hallway. The fire had affected this area more so than others—the floors right above it had been attacked directly, and it showed. Céleste cringed at the ceiling, at the leftovers of once intricate designs. The murals had gaping holes in them, pieces of plaster and wood hung dangerously overhead, and small pools of water and blood puddled in the middle of the walkway.

But Prudence took no note of it and hurried onward, distancing herself from the reminders of her destroyed home. She swerved down a smaller, less affected corridor, and gestured at a door to the right.

"Mother's Study. Go through everything. I do not care how private it looks, read it. If it has significance, bring it to me." She inhaled, exhaled, then set her palm against a door to her left. "I will be in here, Father's old Study. Whatever Antoine does not find downstairs, I might encounter in here."

Céleste paced forward, hoping to hug her, wish her luck—but the Princess recoiled.

She needs time, Sébastien said so.

Prudence didn't wait for them to reply, and as a heartbreaking pain simmered in her gaze, she cracked her father's office door open and slipped inside, sealing herself within.

"I cannot blame her," said Sébastien, tugging Céleste to the Dowager Queen's Study. "I, too, would prefer to be alone under such circumstances."

The air was stale in this hall, a tad hazy though no debris cluttered the ground and none of the artwork had been defaced. Céleste bit her tongue to not cry, and prayed for Prudence.

As Sébastien's fingers touched the door-knob, he froze.

Céleste cocked her head. "What is it?"

He winced, then pulled her into his embrace. "I love you, never forget that, okay?" He breathed her in, stuffing his nose into her smoke-scented hair as he clung to her.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, ignoring the dread bubbling in her belly. "I know."

"What is happening here... how this country is falling apart... we cannot allow that to take place in Totresia, too." He placed his lips on her forehead, his breath heating her skin. "We must help Antoine weed out any intruders in our kingdom. I am unsure if Prudence will recover, but she cannot come back with us. She has much to fix here, and that will devastate Antoine. He will have an adverse reaction, and we must prepare to pick up the pieces."

Céleste tried to break from his hold, but he tightened his arms. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you think he came here?" Sébastien huffed. "To ask her to leave Giroma. Or tell her to, throw some sort of ultimatum at her. I know him, and I feel it. He will see her as unsafe here and will guarantee her security in Totresia. He would have her abandon her home and title and run to Torrinni, where no one would harm her." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "She will decline, and I agree with her. But I fear the consequences of that discussion, and Antoine might monopolize my attention to distract himself from disappointment. So remember my affections for you, please."

Céleste wrenched free. "Why does this sound like a goodbye?" She scrunched her nose as she searched his gaze, hoping he meant what he said.

"It is not." He blew out a heavy breath and shuffled his feet. "It is a warning that things will turn ugly between them, but you and I must stay strong and not take sides."

Céleste seized Sébastien's cheeks between her hands. "I chose a side." He narrowed his eyes, bracing to scold her, but she crushed his cheeks harder. "Yours. I choose your side, always."

There, in the cloudy castle corridor, amidst the chaos and rubble and destruction, she kissed him with a newfound passion. She entwined her tongue with his, with a fire, a tingling, a need to show him she'd never leave his side. A desire to let no one get between them—not Prudence, not his brothers, not his mother. That from there on, she would dedicate her life to him. Through the flames, the storms, the hurricanes, she'd always pick him.

He kissed her back,returning that passion, those same unspoken vows, and solidifying their love.

•••