A week goes by, then two. Bianca recovers in Kieran’s castle, and though being near her without doing anything taps every last strength reserve I’ve got, the doctors said she needed to take it easy.

And even though she looks at us as wickedly as ever, even though I know she still wants us, I resist. It’s not worth hurting her over.

One day we’re all at dinner when one of Kieran’s palace guards comes up to him and asks him sotto voce if the castle has a top-secret secure location.

Kieran just looks at the man like he’s insane.

“It’s a fortress,” he says. “Of course it does.”

We don’t even eat dessert, just go down to the basement, then the sub-basement. Kieran turns a lion sculpture the right way and reveals a hidden room, talks very seriously with his security men. Inside is a beautiful, oval wood table with high-backed chairs all around it, and we sit.

I’m watching Bianca nervously the whole time, wondering if she’s under attack. Wondering if we’re all going to be under attack, if there’s some kind of robot swarm heading our way.

Minutes after we sit, a straight-backed, suited man comes in and stands at the head of the table.

“I’m General Tsukor of the Voravian military,” he begins.

My back is ramrod straight.

“And I’m here to update you on the threat to the princess’s life.”

He opens a manila folder, taking out a small stack of handouts. I wonder why he’s not using the projector at the front of the room, but then I realize that anything with a wireless signal — anything that connects to the outside world — is a threat.

“On the first page you’ll see a schematic of how the initial broadcast threatening the princess went out. The second page involves the Inversberg grocers, the third the mechanics of the incredibly poisonous Amazonian Bread Beetle, and the fifth is what we can tell you about the ongoing plan to capture the remaining at-large members of this terrorist hacker cell,” he says.

No one seems to have any questions, so the General dives right in.

The explanations are long, technical, and they lose me a couple of times. All right, they lose me more than a couple of times, when I can’t tell if what he’s saying are acronyms or words, but the jist of it is this:

Hacking into the television signal wasn’t that hard, especially since it’s all done via digital internet signals anyway, the heyday of actual airwaves being long past. They cloaked themselves more than well enough, and were impossible to find.

They found Bianca again because she came into town. It seems this group hacked into millions of cameras — closed circuit cameras, stoplight cameras, security cameras, you name it — and had facial recognition software running, making it easy enough to find her if she so much as went somewhere with security.

Shit, I think, staring at the handout. I had no idea that was possible.

I don’t feel inadequate often, but I do right now.

Once they knew where she was and who she was with, it was a matter of guessing that we were at the hunting cabin, getting into Andersen’s ordering system, and making a fake order to be delivered to us. Why they chose the Bread Beetle is beyond anyone’s guess, though.

The delivery boy had nothing to do with it. The grocery store had nothing to do with it. They were just pawns in this stupid, fucked up game that I still don’t understand.

Voravian intelligence, working with Interpol, has caught most of the ringleaders and they’re on the trail of the others, though of course they don’t say too much about it.

“And that’s about it,” the General says, snapping his folder closed. “Any questions?”

“Why Bianca?” Kieran asks, his voice loud in the small room.

The General rubs his hands together, and he looks like he’s about to say something, then stops himself.

“We’re not sure,” he finally tells us.

Kieran’s eyes narrow, his mouth making a hard line.

“You were about to say something.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You have an idea, though.”

“It’s unconfirmed, I’m afraid.”

“But there’s something.”

The General looks down at his papers, running his fingers over the folder before looking up at us.

“Tell us,” Kieran demands. “Tell her.”

He doesn’t want to. That much is clear, but he stands a little straighter.

“It will come off as quite childish, but I assure you, it’s the best motive we could find. We’re still searching for another, but so far, nothing has surfaced.”

“What is it?” Bianca asks, speaking up for the first time.

He swallows.

“Jealousy, Your Highness,” he says.

We all frown simultaneously.

“Of me?” Bianca says, sounding baffled.

“In our investigation we found an enlightening discussion that took place on a private, encrypted message board,” he goes on, obviously uncomfortable. “It seems that one of the masterminds had commented on Princess Bianca’s physical charms in front of his girlfriend, and she was quite upset by this. He was already part of a radical anti-monarchy group, of course, but it seems that one thing led to another, and to prove to his girlfriend that he thought quite highly of her, he... orchestrated this.”

The room goes completely, totally silent. You could hear an ant fart, it’s so quiet.

“You’re kidding,” Bianca finally says.

He clears his throat.

“I’m afraid not,” he says. “And we’re quite certain there are other factors at play, of course, but so far, this is the best lead we’ve got.”

Silence again.

“I ought to be going if there are no further questions,” the General says. “I’m glad you’re doing well and best wishes, Your Highness, Lords.”

We all murmur goodbyes, but then lapse into silence again after he leaves.

It takes a while, but Bianca finally speaks up.

“That’s just silly,” she says, staring at the table. “Who would...? I mean, just...?”

I stand, holding out a hand to her.

“Come on,” I say gently. “Let’s go to bed, maybe it’ll make sense in the morning.”

We leave the super-secret sub-basement and ascend back to the upper floor of the palace. Bianca doesn’t let go of my hand the whole time, Kieran close behind us.

We haven’t bothered keeping our relationship a secret. Not that we’ve exactly broadcast it to the world, either, but it’s no secret. The guards know, the people at the palace know, half of Griskold knows. And it doesn’t matter.

No. She’s what matters.

At the door to her suite, Bianca turns to us, lips red as ever, skin pale, hair dark, eyes blue. She bites her lip, looking from me to Kieran and back.

“Come read me a bedtime story?” she asks, her smile and voice bordering on wicked.

Kieran sucks in a breath, and I swallow hard.

“What kind of story?” I ask.

“One about two princes and one princess,” she says, looking up at me, her voice dropping to a purr. “I want to hear all about their happy ending.”