“Davina was following a lead on a confidential matter,” Maeron interrupted. “And she seems to have gone walkabout in the process.”
Taking another sip of wine, I inhaled its intense aroma of black cherry and cinnamon. If nothing else, this glass of wine was worth the price of admission to the palace. It also helped relieve the tension in my body.
“If you expect me to track her, it would help to know what lead she was following.”
Maeron grunted. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Ah, excellent. Our knight is here.” A statuesque woman entered the room wearing a floor-length dress that hugged small breasts and narrow hips. The fabric was a deep emerald green that matched Callan’s eyes—not that I’d taken special notice of them.
The vampire queen halted at the sight of me, frowning. “Who is this?”
I didn’t need to ask who she was. Her high cheek bones and regal air gave her away.
I jumped to my feet and bowed. “London Hayes at your service, Your Majesty.”
She turned to the wine cart. “Excellent. I’ve been parched for the past hour.” She examined the selection. “The Basque, please, Adwin.”
“Like mother, like son,” Adwin said.
“Stepson,” Maeron corrected him.
I noticed the queen stiffen in response. Queen Imogen replaced Britannia in the king’s bed as well as on the throne. That couldn’t have been an easy pill to swallow for a young boy with vivid memories of his famous and powerful mother.
Adwin poured from the bottle and I averted my gaze rather than watch the blood slide into the long-stemmed glass. The stench alone was enough to turn my stomach.
The queen nodded to me. “You may sit.”
My head told me to sit, but my body urged me to flee. I was now in a room with three members of House Lewis, one of the most feared vampire families in the world. What was I thinking? This was suicide. Any moment now, I’d start to glow silver. If that happened, they’d kill me right here, right now, and no one would ever know what became of me.
“Will Father be joining our meeting?” Maeron asked.
“He’s occupied with other matters at present,” the queen said.
What matter could be more important than the disappearance of his daughter?
Callan offered his chair but the queen politely declined. He resumed a standing position so that no one was seated.
“So what does our fair knight think about the stone?” the queen asked.
So much for confidential matters.
I seized the moment. “They were just getting to that,” I said.
“Very good. Probably best if I explain.” The queen sipped from her glass. “Davina was acquiring an item of interest for our House. That’s when she disappeared. We’d like you to find the stone.”
I blinked in confusion. “You want me to focus on finding the stone rather than your daughter?” I could understand her disinterest if Princess Davina had been born to Britannia, but she was the queen’s own natural-born daughter.
Imogen drank before answering. “I have every confidence Davina is fine. She’s simply following in her older brother’s difficult footsteps.”
Maeron glowered at her. “An unnecessary jab, Mother.”
“Davina is young and impulsive,” the queen continued. “She’s heard tales of Maeron’s exploits and hopes to copy them. I’m certain it’s nothing more than that. Oats must be sown, after all.”
Interesting that the princes seemed more concerned about Davina than her own mother. Usually it would be the other way around.
“What can you tell me about the stone?” I asked.
The queen nodded crisply. “Indeed. Last week we dined with an antiquities dealer. He mentioned a stone and said he’d never seen anything like it. He’s a fascinating man, well-versed in history, which is why he’s a frequent guest here.”
“It helps that he always brings a trinket for you,” Maeron commented drily.
Her lips curved into a satisfied smile. “It certainly doesn’t hurt.”
So the queen disliked knickknacks for display but was a fan of trinkets. Got it.
“I asked him for a description and it sounded like the perfect artifact for my collection,” she continued.
“What about it appealed to you?” I asked.
The queen faltered. “Its simplicity. The owner, Maria, had apparently discovered the stone at an excavation site. It sounded quite primitive.”
“It was found in the city?” I asked.
The queen nodded. “Yes. The former site of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Do you know it?”
“Yes. Why would a stone’s simplicity appeal to you?”
The queen’s fingers fidgeted along the stem of her glass. “That’s my taste, I suppose.”
One look at the sparkling ‘trinket’ clasped around her neck told a different story.
An awkward silence ensued. They were hiding something. I was sure of it. Their story was far too flimsy. They were probably so accustomed to doing as they pleased, they’d lost the ability to weave a credible tale.
“How did the princess end up involved?” I probed.
“I instructed the dealer to acquire the stone for us at any price. The owner agreed to sell and Davina was dispatched to make the transaction.”
“She begged to be involved,” Maeron added. “I told her she was better off planning another gala. That’s what other seventeen-year-old princesses do. They don’t gallivant around the realm like some kind of common…”
“Knight?” I offered.
At least Maeron had the decency to appear embarrassed.
Callan wore a wry smile. “And how did our fair sister respond to that?”
“About as well as you can imagine,” Maeron replied.
Callan shifted his focus to me. “When she failed to return, I went in search of her. I found the owner of the stone encased in metal, like a corpse in a molten coffin.” He snapped his fingers to someone in the corridor and a vampire entered holding a large envelope. The vampire opened the envelope and emptied the contents into the prince’s hands. “I took photographs.”
He moved to stand beside me and I studied the background. “The owner lived in quite an opulent place.”
“Oh, no. That’s a room in the palace,” Callan said.
My brow creased. “I thought you found the owner elsewhere.”