The royal physician and his entire crew of nurses were waiting for Willow and Chelsea as soon as they arrived back at the palace. There was an intense amount of activity. The doctor went to work on Willow's head, cleaning it with skilled hands. She could tell, however, that he was nervous. It was rare that any of his royal patients got injured- they were protected stringently. Before Willow, his most frequent work had been with Henry, who somehow had managed to break his arm, four fingers, and an ankle over the course of his very well-guarded childhood.
Willow had given up trying to explain. She sat, wordless, staring straight ahead as the doctor prodded her forehead with gauze. She was vaguely aware of all the actively around her. At one point, Jenny appeared, and said in concern,
"Will it scar?"
"No," the royal physician said.
Jenny sighed in relief.
Roger was there at one point, yelling. William managed to get him away. He cast Willow a disappointed look. Chelsea was talking non-stop, trying to explain. The head of security, John, was there, listening to Chelsea. He looked like he was about to question Willow, when chatter came over his radio, and he hurried away. Then activity really started to pick up, with security personnel and Met officers talking and scurrying around, in the way of palace workers who were trying to attend to the guests who were still not allowed to leave.
"No stitches," the doctor announced. "Just butterfly bandages."
Willow nodded. She wouldn't have cared about getting stitches, anyway. Dan passed by, and she grabbed his forearm. He almost pulled her right out of her chair with his weight before he stopped.
"Yes, Your Highness?" he asked.
Willow admired his ability to remain professional, even though she knew he was furious with her. She couldn't blame him. He would have been fired and never gotten a job again if something really terrible had happened to her, and even with the scratch on her head, he was probably in trouble.
"What happened?" she asked urgently. "Did they find him?"
Dan hesitated. He probably didn't want to give her any information that might lead to her to do something crazy again. Finally he said, "They didn't find the prince. They found the kidnappers."
Willow heart stopped. "What? What do you mean?"
"They found the men you described, the Lontin men, but they were all tied up. They wouldn't say much, only that they'd been robbed."
"Robbed?" Chelsea repeated, hurrying over to listen.
"Yes, my Lady."
Chelsea and Willow exchanged glances.
"Henry was... re-kidnapped?" Willow said.
Dan sighed, and made a gesture of helplessness. "We- we don't know. If His Highness was even ever in their possession to begin with-"
"He was!" Willow and Chelsea said at the same time.
Dan frowned. "Well, then, yes... it looks like someone attacked the original kidnappers and took him."
Willow's head spun. The royal physician pressed gauze to the tapped cut, and wrapped her head with bandages to hold it into place.
"Now what?" Willow said miserably. "They could be anywhere. Now he's in the hands of an entirely new group of kidnappers! Who knows what they're going to do with him?"
Dan must have seen the panic on her face, because he said to her in a gentler voice, "You were right about the tunnels, though. They should have listened to you."
"A lot of good it did," Willow muttered. "Now the gypsy Underground has been exposed to the outside world, and Henry is god-knows-where with a different set of people who may want him dead!"
"Dan," Chelsea said timidly. "How- how did you find us in the tunnels?"
Willow had not even thought to ask that. She looked at Dan expectantly.
"Your cell phone, Lady Montgomery. The Met was able to track its signal."
Chelsea looked a little horrified, like she suddenly wanted to chuck her phone out the window.
"Well..." she managed. "I suppose it's a good thing you were able to..."
Willow's head hurt. She was lying on her bed in her room, alone. In the first chamber of her suite, the separate room that was supposed to be for entertaining guests but that she actually used for game night when Nicki slept over, Dan, Jenny, and two separate security personnel were discussing things in low tones. Willow stared at the ceiling, depressed. She had no idea what to do next.
She had taken a bath. Jenny had insisted on it, since she smelled like dirt, stale water, and sewage. She hadn't washed her hair, because she'd been instructed not to get her injured forehead wet. It was brushed and spread out like a halo on her pillow. It still smelled faintly of brick dust. Jenny had started to tidy up Willow's bedroom after she'd emerged from the bath, but Willow had asked her to stop. She hated it when Jenny tried to fix up her messy room on a normal day, and now it grated on her. Jenny was just nervous, and trying to busy her hands, but Willow couldn't deal. She didn't care that her clothes were hanging out of her drawers, or that her floor was littered with important papers or knick-knacks she'd been gifted from where she'd worked in Africa. She had long since forbidden the maids to try and put things back in order, and she wasn't about to let Jenny mess anything up.
She felt bad. Jenny and Dan were only trying to help. She rolled over onto her side, and looked at the pictures in frames on her bedside table. There was she and Nicki in a photo booth, months before she's been told she was Prince Rogers daughter, when she was still working in a bakery. There was a formal picture of her and the entire royal family. Her crown was a little crooked in the picture, which had not been released to the public. Willow had specifically asked for the print where her crown was crooked. She thought it accurately depicted who she was in the royal family. Then, there was the picture of she and Henry. They were on their motorcycles, with their helmets tilted back on top of their heads. Henry had thrown his arm around Willow, and she was in the process of falling off her bike when the picture had been taken. It was goofy and slightly blurry, and Willow loved it.
She stared at the picture, wondering if she'd ever see her brother again. Sure, she hadn't grown up with him. They'd been sixteen and eighteen when they'd met, but they had been best friends immediately. Henry longed for someone who was as adventurous and unbothered as he, and Willow had needed someone who was willing to escape palace life with her. They shared a similar sense of humor, and view of their purpose in the royal family. They were close.
There was some movement out in the parlor area, and the main door opened. Dan and Jenny spoke to someone there. Willow rolled back over and returned her gaze to the ceiling. She wasn't interested in seeing anyone. Then a familiar voice and accent said,
"Your Highness, may I interrupt your thoughts?"
Willow turned her head.
It was the Crown Prince Khalid, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. He was holding a chess board, and smiling hopefully. Willow felt a pang of guilt. He knew she had blown him off and used his generous invitation to escape and go after Henry. And yet, here he as, still offering to play chess with her. She sat up, and swung her feet over the bed.
"Hello, Your Highness," she said, embarrassed.
He took in the bandage on her head. He looked genuinely pained at the sight of it.
"I'm so sorry," he said, nodding at the wound.
She waved her hand. "Not your fault. I'm clumsy."
She hopped off her bed, wavered at the sudden spike of pain in her head, and gestured at the small table in her large bedroom. She knew Jenny and Dan would have to stay in the parlor. It would be scandalous for she and Khalid to be alone together.
He waited until she took her seat, and then sat down. He placed the chess board in the center of the table, opened it, and began to set the pieces up.
"I was very disturbed to hear about your brother's disappearance," he said low.
Willow cast a glance through the doorway to the first chamber, where Jenny and Dan were sitting, pretending to be oblivious to the conversation. She almost smiled. They probably weren't comfortable with the fact that they couldn't even leave her alone to play a game of chess, so they just started their own conversation.
Willow said, also in a voice quiet enough so her chaperons couldn't hear,
"Thank you."
"I heard that you figured out they were in tunnels that the gypsies had used." Khalid's eyes twinkled. "How clever of you, Your Highness."
"Please, call me Willow," Willow asked him. "Otherwise we'll be going back and forth calling each other 'Your Highness', and that's just strange."
"Very well, Willow," Khalid said. "Please, call me Khalid, then."
He finished setting up the pieces. Willow went to move her pawn.
"Ah-hem," Khalid said. "I believe I go first."
"Ladies don't go first?" Willow said in surprise. She had thought he'd adhere to that age-old formality.
He smiled. "You have home-field advantage."
She laughed. "Really? How so?"
"We're in your country, in your room, and playing on your table," he explained.
"I don't think any of those things will help me beat you," Willow said. "I haven't played in years."
She nodded to him, and he went first, moving his pawn two spaces up.
They took their time playing. Willow had to think hard every time she moved a piece, since she knew Khalid was an expert, and didn't want him to beat her too easily.
"I'm sorry that you're stuck here," she told him.
He shrugged. "It would be insensitive of me to complain. You just lost your brother. Staying in this beautiful palace in your company is hardly a hardship."
Willow smiled, and moved her knight.
"You should teach me something in Arabic," Willow told him.
He chuckled. "Something? You'll have to be more specific than that."
"Mmm... how about 'chess'."
"Shuturanij," Khalid said.
"Shuturanij," Willow repeated.
"The first word you learn in Arabic," Khalid said, "Is chess?"
"Why not?" Willow asked. She watched him move his bishop across the board and snag one of her pawns.
"How about something more useful," he said. "Maybe, 'Good morning?'"
"Sure," Willow said.
"Sabah alkhyr."
"Oh no," Willow groaned. "It's that kkh sound again."
"Yes. Which you know how to do, right?"
Willow tried it. She spit all over the board. Her face burned with embarrassment. Khalid laughed.
"Try again," he urged. She managed it on the third try, and then finally managed to say,
"Sabah alkhyr."
"Wonderful!" Khalid praised. "Except, it is the afternoon now."
She cast him an annoyed look. He shrugged.
"Tomorrow morning, you will know what to say," he said.
She looked down at the board. He only had two of her pawns and a rook.
"How hard are you trying not to beat me?" she asked.
Khalid studied the board. "Very hard," he admitted. "In fact, I haven't played a more difficult game in a long time. It is challenging to find a move that will not take your queen when you keep offering her up like that."
Willow sighed. "Well, at least it's some kind of challenge."
"You're distracted," Khalid offered. He sobered. "Willow, if you would rather not play right now, I understand. You must only tell me. I understand that royals are often required to fake interest, but please let me know if you'd rather I left."
"No, it's okay," Willow said. She scooted a bishop in front of her queen, and Khalid smiled. "Otherwise, I'd be moping around."
"What happened in the tunnels?" he asked. "If... if it is not inappropriate for me to know."
"It's fine." Willow sighed. "Chelsea and I... we found him."
Khalid looked astonished. "You did? What- what did you see?"
"These men from Lontin, and these other two men with guns. They weren't from Fengland. I saw Henry only briefly, before they got away with him."
Khalid nodded. He was completely absorbed in what she was saying.
"I'm sorry, Willow," he said softly. "Those men still have him?"
"No," Willow said. "They found the men, the Lontiners, at least. Not the two foreign men. It seems that... that Henry has been re-kidnapped. By a different group of people."
Khalid frowned. "That's terrible."
Willow nodded. She took her knight, but didn't move it. She just kind of stared at the board, thinking. Khalid hesitated, like he sensed her sadness. Then he said, slowly,
"I... I want to do something to help."
"It's okay," Willow told him. "I don't think there's anything you and I could do now."
"Well..." Khalid tapped a spot on the board. Willow moved her knight there, and saw that she could now take one of Khalid's pawns. "I might be able to help."
"How?" Willow asked him in surprise.
"There's a sizeable community of Arabs in Lontin," he said. "Including Saudis. They may be able to ask around, and see if they can discover anything about these new kidnappers."
"Really?" Willow said.
"Yes. Just tell me if you would like me to contact them. I know that I am... more free than you right now, considering your tendency to wander."
Willow rolled her eyes. She knew he was right. There was no way Dan or John would allow her out of the palace anytime soon, or to make outside phone calls. So, she nodded.
"That would be amazing," she said. "Thank you so much."
He smiled. "Of course. Let's finish this game first. We wouldn't want anyone to think we are plotting."
Willow snagged his pawn.