Elias found nothing of use in the main library. He searched for two hours, Caspian at his side, but the most exciting thing they came across was an ancient coin tucked into a miniature envelope in the back of an old book. The hammered silver felt smooth under Elias’s thumb, the details worn down over time. Although Caspian glanced curiously at the find, he didn’t seem overly interested.

Moments later, Caspian received word that the request to visit the Crypt had been granted. They departed the library and traversed the castle to the lowest level—the dungeons. Elias was at home in the gloomy, dank atmosphere. Unlike Kallaster and Ahtissari, this castle had been equipped with light in the deepest dark places. The overhead string of bulbs was not pretty, only practical, and threw out a minimal amount of illumination.

The Crypt turned out to be a large cavern with stone walls, stone floors, and a high, arching ceiling. Rows upon rows of shelves, wooden trunks, and display cases stuffed full of artifacts and papers filled the perimeter of the room. Situated directly in the center stood a large desk surrounded by six chairs, with concentrated cones of light shining down upon the surface.

“This could take forever,” Elias said. The stone walls seemed to absorb his voice, as if the crypt was a vacuum where no sound traveled beyond its immediate space. He paused next to several old pieces of chain mail and two well-used swords.

“It would take months upon months to go through it all. Thankfully, Somero’s historians have arranged the goods according to age.” Caspian pointed to three bookcases, a wall display, and a trunk to the left of the door. “These things are the oldest of the old. As you follow the wall around to the right, the books and things are newer. Well, newer in relevance to the really old crap.”

Elias laughed. He parted from the swords and approached the glass-fronted bookcases. “I think I’ll start at the beginning this time. Work my way forward instead of back.”

“I have no idea how you spend so much time doing this. I’m already antsy,” Caspian said with a grunt of amusement.

“You’ve always been a lover of light and freedom. These gloomy places aren’t for everyone.” Elias glanced over his shoulder, grinned knowingly at Caspian, then reached for a book.

Caspian removed his jacket, pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, and joined Elias at the bookcase.

Elias knew Caspian wouldn’t abandon him, no matter how much he might not enjoy being down there. “All right, then. Let’s get started.”

---

“This is like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Caspian said three hours later.

Elias looked up from the large tome he was carefully combing through, amused to see Caspian starting to tug at the collar of his shirt and otherwise exhibit signs that he was ready to return topside. He did not think it was for the same reasons that had sent Inari fleeing upstairs. Caspian probably couldn’t get his mind off all the other things he could be doing, rather than suffering a sudden case of claustrophobia.

“It always is. Don’t you find the beginning of Imatra’s history fascinating?” Elias asked.

“To a point. You know how I am, though,” Caspian said. “I prefer to live with my feet firmly planted in the present and my gaze toward the future, rather than the past.” He dragged a hand through his hair then turned the page.

They were at the desk, with several books stacked at their elbows. Elias considered Caspian’s words for a moment. He wasn’t unaware of their differences, how he spent so much time looking into the past. Elias appreciated the present, and was curious about the future, but the history of his country fascinated him. He would have given almost anything to sit down with one of the original kings, his direct ancestors, and picked their brain for a few days.

“Look here,” Caspian said, gently withdrawing a folded piece of paper. He unfolded the leatherlike page and laid it on the desk.

Elias couldn’t read the text upside down. He waited for Caspian to either read it or declare it unimportant, as he had so many others. Caspian frowned as he read, but he wasn’t reading aloud yet.

“What?” Elias asked.

“Listen to this. It’s dated from the tenth century,” Caspian said before he began reading from the page.

“‘Our shores have been invaded by a fleet of Vikings. Men once our brethren, but enemies in these years when Canute is expanding his empire. I have called upon King Ahtissari for aid. I have asked Sandersson to set aside our differences, which are admittedly complex and many, but he has, today, refused me. He has cast Imatra into the winds of war without consideration, without sending even one man to fight alongside us.

“‘I should have known better. My father, and his before, were always adamantly against Latvala and their treasonous reign of kings. I see my ancestors were right not to trust the Ahtissari line, and I will never ask for their aid again.

“‘Should Latvala’s shores be attacked, and they will be, Sandersson should not look to Imatra for aid.

“‘He will find no friends or allies here.’

“Signed, King Amschel Rehn.” Caspian blew out a quiet breath.

Elias met Caspian’s gaze across the table. This was a more personal piece of correspondence than he’d ever seen, even in his own libraries. At least referring to the trouble between Latvala and Imatra. There were plenty of books dedicated to how each king contributed to Latvala, the progress they made with society, or the battles they fought and won.

“It appears that the friction between Imatra’s king and Latvala’s stemmed from lack of support during wartime. Clearly there must have been another incident or two before this, another event where one country or the other called for aid and was denied. Because the bad blood is evident in Amschel’s words,” Elias said.

“I have to agree. I wonder what he meant, however, when he referred to your line back then as treasonous. That does not fit, unless Amschel’s emotions got the better of him while he was penning this letter. It’s not treason to decline to send warriors during wartime.”

“A king might see it that way. Especially if he fears his country is about to be overrun. I’d love to see more correspondence from Amschel after that letter. There has to be more.” Elias experienced the old familiar urge to know more. He needed answers; wanted to finally, once and for all, understand the former discord between Imatra and Latvala. It did not rival his need to find out why Latvala’s crest had been altered, but he was intensely interested nevertheless.

“I think I’d like to have answers as well,” Caspian said. There was a new glint in his gray eyes that hadn’t been there before. “So now, apparently, we’re on the lookout for more letters from Amschel as well as any hint or clue about Latvala’s crest.”

“See how one thing turns into another so easily?” Elias said. That was how it had started for him, way back as a young boy. His interest in the tunnels had evolved into why his ancestors had needed such a complicated maze and, from there, to more direct information, personal information, about each king. Not just what the historians documented, but a king’s personal thoughts and feelings. His motivations.

“Indeed. There may be more letters in this book.” Caspian put his attention on the tome, gloved fingers turning pages with more urgency. “If not here, then in one of the others.”

“This gives me a good place to go back and do more reading in our own libraries. Now that I know there was an incident, and when, and with what kings, I might find out more about it. Sandersson’s viewpoint, perhaps.” After a moment, Elias added, “Now I think I know why my mother has pestered my father to keep a journal all these years.”

“Has Sander kept up with it?” Caspian asked.

Elias laughed. “He loathes it, but yes. I believe he has. I have not seen it, but I have heard him gripe about it from time to time.”

Just then, movement near the door caught Elias’s eye. A shadow separated itself from the hallway and entered, solidifying into a solemn-looking Princess Inari. Elias stood from his seat, a frown building on his brow.

“Is all well?” Elias asked.

Caspian turned in his seat then stood. He, too, was frowning.

Inari brushed her hand along the thighs of her black slacks. The thin turquoise shirt she’d paired with the pants wouldn’t have been enough coverage in the dank, chilled room but for the beige cashmere pashmina she’d drawn around her shoulders.

“Lisbet has taken a turn for the worse. I . . .” Inari paused and lifted her chin.

Elias needed no one to tell him that Inari was struggling with emotion. That she probably felt cut off from all things familiar—including her family—and that she was there looking for support. He stepped around the table, dragging off the white gloves as he went. The gloves landed on the desk just before he reached out and took Inari into his arms. He didn’t ask, didn’t pretend he misunderstood her reason for being here. The immediate way she sank into his body, cheek against his chest, confirmed he’d been correct.

“How bad is it?” Elias asked, his mouth near her hair. She smelled like fresh strawberries with a hint of vanilla.

“She stopped breathing twice. They’ve had to resuscitate her. Now she’s on a ventilator and the doctors . . . they’re not certain she’ll last the night,” Inari said.

Caspian cursed under his breath and came to stand at Inari’s side. He set a broad, long-fingered hand on her back before he glanced at Elias.

Elias traded a distinct look with Caspian that said, we need to get her to the hospital.

The problem was that went directly against King Thane’s orders. Inari was not to leave Rehn Castle under any circumstances, unless he called for her specifically. Everyone in the castle knew it.

“Leave this. I’ll have someone come mark our progress and preserve what we’ve found,” Caspian said with a jerk of his chin toward the desk. “Come up when you’re ready. I’m going to make a quick phone call or two.”

“Thanks.” Elias knew Caspian intended to get on the phone with Thane and plead Inari’s case. What did a father do in that situation? One daughter dying, while trying to protect the other who was likely the original target. He didn’t blame Thane for waiting to have Inari come to the hospital. The king ran the risk of losing two daughters today if Inari got into the open.

Caspian exited the room at a brisk pace.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to lean on you,” Inari whispered. Despite her apology, she didn’t move or lean back.

“Don’t be. Anyone would be upset at the news. And at not being able to rush to the hospital immediately. I’m hoping for the best, Inari. Hoping that Lisbet fights back and pulls through.”

“She’s too young and innocent in all this. If I wasn’t so terrified that she’ll die, I’d be furious that someone targeted our house.”

“You can be terrified and furious at the same time,” Elias reassured her. He smoothed his palms up and down her back. Although he was inches taller than Inari, she fit against him like a puzzle piece. As if that space in his arms had been created for no one else but her. Startled by the thought, he reined himself in. That was not his usual way of thinking. For years he’d played the field, dated anyone who suited his fancy, and neglected to get really close to the women in his life. He’d certainly never thought of one in terms of longevity.

Not yet.

He was too young, had too much left to do and discover. It was his duty to marry and preserve his lineage, yes, but those things could wait.

“We should go up,” Inari said. She finally tilted her head away from his chest and stared up into his face. “There could be more information at any time and we might need to leave quickly. It takes a while to get down here and back to the main floor again.”

He wasn’t surprised to find her eyes and cheeks dry. Which did not diminish the anguish he so easily detected in her expression. She exerted control over most of her outward reactions, however, proof that her upbringing influenced her behavior. It never went over well when the public saw their future sovereign in severe states of emotion, yet they were far from the public eye and he wouldn’t have thought twice if she’d broken down in tears.

“Then, let’s go.” He palmed her cheek, surprising himself with the tender action. She tilted her face into his touch, smiled, and turned for the door.

Elias followed, frowning now that her attention was elsewhere.

Perhaps it was time to take a larger part in securing Inari’s safety. He’d worked on her behalf in the background, gathering what information and evidence he could, but now he felt the desire to become even more hands-on in finding the bastard who terrorized her and her family.