“What do you mean, you lost her?” my father thunders. We’re in the throne room, though it’s empty except for us, and his voice echoes through the vast, empty space.

“I mean, she left, and I don’t...”

I trail off, frustrated. I already feel like an idiot for not even knowing her last name, but I have this urgent, pressing fear that something in Ella’s life is wrong.

That she needs me, and I’m standing here, arguing with my father.

“I didn’t get her contact information,” I finish lamely.

My father just glares, his arms folded across his chest. We’re standing behind the thrones, stained glass windows throwing blotches of colored light across us.

“You disappear from the ball with a commoner that no one knows, you don’t bother to come back, and now you’re telling me you don’t know who she is or how to reach her?”

He stalks to the other end of the dais, looking out at the vast room.

“You know, Grayson, a smart man might not believe you right now,” he says, too angry to turn and look at me. “A smart man might think that you’re trying to pull one over on him so you can have a few more weeks of whoring around with every floozy in the kingdom.”

“Father, I’m not, I swear,” I say, my voice almost pleading. “It’s not what you think. Ella is different, she’s special, she’s—”

I stop short, because I can’t even put it into words how I feel about her. I barely know her, but I know I’d go to the ends of the earth to find and protect her.

Slowly, my father turns. He gives me a long, hard look, his hands clasped behind his back. I stand my ground, even though he’s the only person in the entire kingdom who has any sort of power over me.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he finally says, his eyes boring into mine.

I straighten, meeting his gaze squarely.

“What’s that?”

“If I divert kingdom resources to help you find her, you marry this girl. Assuming she says yes.”

Ten days ago, the mere thought would have made me nauseous. I’d have laughed in my father’s face at the idea, but now — after last night, after my wild urge to put a baby in Ella’s belly, to make her mine forever — it doesn’t faze me at all.

Actually, I kind of like the idea.

“All right,” I say. “If we find her, I’ll marry her.”

My father doesn’t respond, just lifts one eyebrow.

* * *

“Shoes,” my sister Aurora says. “You have shoes.”

She doesn’t sound impressed. I sigh.

“The chief inspector said he thought they looked custom,” I say, slouching back on my couch.

We’re sitting in one of the palace’s TV lounges, this one only for the royal family and their guests. Some show is playing on the TV, but instead, I’m trying to tell my sister about what’s happening.

“You have a custom shoe, then,” Aurora deadpans. “Can’t be many of those in a city of several million.”

“It’s all I have!” I nearly shout. “I’ve got her first name and her shoes. I didn’t get her last name, her phone number, her address.”

“Maybe she’ll contact you,” Aurora suggests, always reasonable.

I sigh again and run one hand through my hair.

“I think she’s in trouble,” I mutter.

Aurora looks at me.

“What?”

“I think there’s something wrong,” I say. “I don’t know, she was... a little weird a few times, like something was off.”

“Or this mystery girl you boned last night is a little weird,” Aurora says, shrugging. “At least you’re smart enough to wrap it up.”

I go dead silent.

“Grayson.”

I can’t even meet Aurora’s eyes.

“Did you—”

She stops suddenly, looking around the room.

“Did you fuck some crazy nameless girl without a condom?”

“She’s probably on the pill or something,” I mutter.

“Oh my god,” Aurora says, covering her face with both hands. “Oh my God. You’re going to have a bastard. It’s gonna fuck up the line of succession, you moron, there’s gonna be a civil war in fifty years and it’s gonna be because the legendary Idiot King Grayson the First boned a crazy chick.”

I don’t even have it in me to argue with Aurora. My little sister has always been the reasonable one, the one who was studious and smart in school, my solid rock through my wild life. When she was in a coma after a car accident a couple of years ago, I was a total mess until she woke up, but she did — miraculously unharmed.

“It’ll be fine,” I say. “I just... I just need to find her, Aurora.”

Her face softens, even though she rolls her eyes a little.

“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d start by taking those shoes to strip joints,” she says.

I raise my eyebrows at her, opening my mouth, but she holds up one hand.

“I don’t want to insinuate anything, but have you looked at them? Look at them. Those aren’t regular people shoes. Just trust me.”

I heave yet another sigh, and stand up.

“I do,” I say. “Thanks, Rory.”

She makes a face as I leave, because she hates it when I call her Rory.