Inari made a point of remaining in the ballroom long after Elias and Caspian had departed. Oh, she’d seen them all right, thick as thieves, stalking off down the hallway to a private location.

Perhaps they were plotting what action to take next. She only hoped it didn’t involve the media or an announcement. She’d been fairly clear to Elias that she wanted to keep a low profile regarding the attempted drugging.

When several high-ranking royals approached for dances, Inari did not turn the offers down. She spun onto the floor, acting carefree although she did not feel so, giving all her attention to her partner.

It pleased her that the gossipmongers now had new meat to chew over, as it were. First it had been her and Elias, then a string of princes after that. Tongues were wagging and speculation ran wild. A perfect distraction from the increase in the number of guards present in the ballroom. They were discreet enough, which she appreciated, but easily noted.

Her final partner, a prince from Weithan Isle, bowed over her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles.

She let him. Why not? He was handsome and charming, although his reputation as an unfaithful rogue meant she would never take his attention seriously.

When she returned to her circle of friends, Inari gestured to a member of the waitstaff for a fresh drink while enduring an endless array of queries.

“What is going on in that head of yours this evening, Innie?”

“You’ve danced with more men this evening than in the entire last year of balls and royal appointments. Have you decided to take finding a husband seriously?”

“Well, now you’ve gone and confused us all. Thanks for that.”

Inari shifted from annoyance at the hated nickname ‘Innie’ to subtle laughter at the latter retort. She said, “It wouldn’t be as fun if I didn’t keep you all guessing.”

“So tell us who your favorite is,” someone asked.

Inari accepted a new glass of champagne after Bero had given her a nod of approval. He’d watched the liquid being poured from an unopened bottle and seemed confident she could imbibe without fear of being drugged. She brought the vessel to her lips, liberally partaking of the bubbly.

“I have no favorite,” she said. “They are all simply dance partners. You should try exercising more than your curiosity, ladies.”

Suddenly, Inari noticed every pair of eyes turn to someone or something just past her shoulder. She had no time to be surprised before a looming presence appeared at her back.

“Prince Elias,” Inari said, recognizing his distinct cologne from their dance earlier. The notes of bergamot, amber, and oak paired well with the scent that was all his.

“Pardon us, ladies,” Elias said.

A strong arm scooped her around the waist, startling a small noise of complaint from her lips. But then they were moving. Elias used just enough pressure with his arm to propel her forward through the crowd. His somewhat raspy voice dipped close to her ear.

“I need to speak with you.”

“Clearly. Is this glass actually drugged, then?”

“It has nothing to do with the drink in your hand,” Elias said.

Nonetheless, Inari set the flute aside on a passing tray and allowed Elias his whim. Her mind spun with one scenario after another.

They’d found the perpetrator.

The perpetrator was still lurking in the room.

Or maybe, even, she knew the culprit and the name was too sensitive for Elias to say out loud in public.

What if it was a peer? A prince who would one day be king?

Inari rounded on Elias when they entered the same room as before. Sconces on the castle walls provided plenty of light to see Elias’s concerned expression, which served to halt all Inari’s internal musings. She had never known Elias to be melodramatic.

“Elias, what is it?”

“Caspian and I just finished watching the surveillance video of the ballroom.”

“And?” She tilted her head, expecting a shocking name to fall from his lips.

“. . . and whoever it was knew right where the cameras were stationed. He averted his face to the point that we can’t determine an identity. Caspian is having the footage sent to a lab to see what they can do. Professionals can sometimes get a hit with better computer software.”

“All right,” Inari said. She wasn’t sure what to make of the news, exactly. “I have the feeling there’s something you’re not saying.”

“Think hard. Does any interaction in the last few months stand out? Anything at all? With other royals, servants, beaus?”

“Why? Why is that so important?”

“Because this has the earmarks of stalking. This person preplanned the entire event and has intimate knowledge of this castle, which makes it dangerous, in my opinion, for you to be here.”

Inari drew herself up and straightened her shoulders. “I’ll tell you what I believe. I believe it’s someone who probably wanted to set me up for a compromising photo opportunity. You asked if any interaction lately stands out—yes. Some three weeks ago, I was touring a city in Somero when, all of a sudden, a great fuss broke out in the crowd beyond my security team. A man thrust his way through, camera in hand, and shoved the lens practically under my nose. He didn’t get that close, actually, thanks to my guards, but he strained against their arms and attempted to break through to get to me. It was somewhat unnerving.”

“If that’s the case, then this person also managed to wheedle their way through the castle gate, past the guards at the doors, and into the party without an alarm going off. This party was invite only. He must have duplicated the invitation—yet they check every invitation and name twice before they allow entrance.” Elias paced the room, brows drawn together over his eyes.

Inari wrung her hands together as she regarded Elias. His disturbed, thoughtful expression was not reassuring in the least. “Perhaps this person learned that a guest wasn’t coming to the party and took his place. The guards likely didn’t memorize faces from the guest list.”

“Could be.” He crossed the room to her side, one large hand gently cupping her elbow. “Why don’t you let Jeremiah, Caspian, and I escort you out? We’ll have Bero bring your limousine around to the back so your exit doesn’t draw more attention.”

“Is it really necessary to leave the party altogether?” she asked.

“I think it’s a good idea. If this guy realizes his drugging attempt failed and he won’t get his scandalous pictures, he might up the ante. Maybe try and grab you. It’s not worth the risk,” Elias said.

“But I mean really, Elias. Try to snatch me under the noses of all these guards and security? There are even more outside.” Nonetheless, Inari allowed Elias to escort her from the room and into the hall. She walked at a brisk pace to keep up with his longer stride.

“There’s no telling what other trick he might have up his sleeve. And let’s remember, we can’t be certain this photographer from three weeks ago is the same person who attempted to drug you here. We’re assuming, and that’s always dangerous.” He made a discreet call on his cell phone as he guided her deeper into the castle.

Inari had been to the Imatran family seat several times over the years, mostly when she was younger on state visits. She did not know the layout of the castle beyond the great hall and a parlor or two. Elias, however, appeared to know every shortcut to the back. The hallways became more rustic and the stone smelled older, a testament to the age of the structure.

“Caspian has alerted Bero. Your cars will be waiting outside shortly,” Jeremiah said from behind them.

She was so surprised at Jeremiah’s stealth and sudden appearance that she stumbled. Elias gripped her elbow more firmly with one hand, helping stabilize her balance. Jeremiah had a hand on her waist as well, politely providing an extra level of security.

“Thank you.” Inari regained her footing easily with their help. “You should announce yourself before you sneak up on people.”

“I did,” Jeremiah said, clearly amused.

“He’s like a ghost. Slips in and out of places unheard, just like his father,” Elias said. “Caspian will meet us at the back.”

Inari couldn’t help but be impressed with both men. She discreetly studied Elias’s profile as they passed from one ancient hallway into the next. He had a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and a well-shaped mouth. Despite the formality of the ball, he’d neglected to shave his whiskers. Visually, the fine golden layer added appeal rather than detracted from it.

Too bad she loathed beards and whiskers of any kind. Loathed the sandpapery feel when a man brushed his cheek to hers.

“You get lost in your head a lot, don’t you?” Elias asked, meeting her eyes.

“What?”

He gestured to a high-ceilinged room flanked by two sets of double doors that they were entering from a hallway.

Inari snapped her attention to her whereabouts, galled to have been caught staring. “I was thinking.”

“I can only imagine,” Jeremiah said.

The tone and inflection he used made it seem as if she’d been thinking inappropriate things about Elias. She huffed, feigning indignation, when she was actually amused.

Elias laughed outright. “Jer, stay with her while I see if they’ve got the cars ready.”

Inari tracked Elias’s exit through one of the doors before she turned a withering look on Jeremiah. She didn’t know him whatsoever, but she recognized the devilish glint in his eyes that spoke of trouble.

With a capital T.

“What house do you belong to?” she asked with an imperious lift of her chin.

Jeremiah’s brows arched high. He had an expressive, handsome face: patrician nose, angular features, and light brown eyes. Unlike Elias, his skin had been freshly shaven for the evening’s events. Inari waited him out, trying to guess what royal family he belonged to.

“I’m not of royal blood, Your Highness. Merely a pauper who happens to be best friends with a prince.” He winked.

Not of royal blood? Inari was pleasantly surprised. She smiled and bowed her head a fraction. “Regardless, I appreciate your help this evening, Jeremiah. Since we haven’t formally met, I’m Inari Ascher.”

She extended her hand, preferring to shake rather than expect him to touch lips to her knuckles. Some men who ran in royal circles still insisted upon the archaic action; most had transitioned to handshakes.

Jeremiah surprised her again when he lifted her hand and pressed a light, warm kiss to her skin.

“My pleasure, Your Highness. Jeremiah Morgan, at your service.”

She laughed. “Call me Inari. My closest friends do.”

“Have we progressed that far already, then? Perhaps I should be asking for a date . . .”

“That’ll be enough, Jer,” Elias said as he reentered the room, voice full of mirth. “I leave you alone for three seconds and already you’re trying to charm your way into dinner with a future queen.”

Oh, they were an amusing pair. Both handsome, both charming. She decided Jeremiah must be more rakish, more devilish, but one could never tell. Elias had breathed that little whisper near her ear earlier, proving he might be just as devilish as his friend.

Bero appeared in the doorway, clearly expecting her to precede him to the limousine. Inari faced Elias and Jeremiah. “Again, thank you for your help. And your discretion. Good evening.”

They parted ways, with their farewells ringing in her ears.

Once in the limousine, as the vehicle pulled away from the private courtyard, Inari turned her thoughts to the problem at hand.

Namely, assessing exactly how serious a threat her stalker might turn out to be.

---

Hours later, Elias reclined into a leather sofa and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. He had water in hand again, ice clinking against the sides of the glass. Rather than parlors and formal sitting rooms, he and Caspian had chosen the king’s library in which to relax and converse. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined three walls, the shelves stuffed with books. The ragged spines of old tomes invited a person to investigate their mysterious contents. Elias had spent many an hour there doing exactly that.

Caspian paced the perimeter of the room, hands in the pockets of his suit pants, a frown denting his brow.

“You’re still troubled at the attempt with Inari, aren’t you?” Elias asked. He already knew the answer.

“Very. Imagine if she’d come under the effects of the drug in public and made a spectacle of herself. In my home, under my watch.” Caspian shook his head, lips drawn into a displeased line. “I don’t like it at all.”

“No one would have blamed you. You’ve provided excellent security, and a lot of it. Checklists . . .”

“And yet the bastard still got in.”

Elias took a drink of water then set the glass aside on a small wooden table. He draped his arm along the back of the sofa, gaze following Caspian’s persistent pacing.

“As they sometimes do. It’s not the first time someone has crashed a party looking for trouble. And it won’t be the last,” Elias said.

“My men intercepted Inari’s guards and had the tainted champagne transferred to my care. We’ll get answers over what kind of drug before her people will. Besides, traveling with it back to Somero would have been difficult. I didn’t want the contents leaving the castle lest they get tampered with,” Caspian said.

“How soon for results?”

“Sometime tomorrow.”

“I’m flying back to Latvala after breakfast. Let me know what happens?” Elias asked.

“You should stay on another day or two. Go over the security footage with me in detail. I want to look at every hour of it from when the guests arrived until the last one left,” Caspian said.

“You’ve got no less than eight men already doing that.”

“I know. It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“He knew where all your cameras were. I’m guessing it’s going to be very difficult to find him in the crowd. He knew to blend in, to be as inconspicuous as possible. Did you have surveillance of the check-in where the guests had their IDs examined by security?”

“No, unfortunately. I have blanket coverage of the drive, but not the niche near the doors. I feel the same way about video feeds as you do.” Caspian’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

Elias had no love for extensive surveillance. Present-day technology was too easy to hack. He pushed to a stand and walked closer to the bookcases, gaze roaming over the spines.

“Let me distract you from all this for a second,” Elias said.

“That’ll be a challenge,” Caspian replied.

Elias shot the man a grin for his bluntness, which finally drew a wan expression from the prince.

“I found something interesting in a tunnel beneath Ahtissari Castle,” Elias said. “A dagger. The crest on the hilt does not match the crest that has been used by our family for generations, yet, clearly, it’s a variation.”

Caspian frowned. He perched on the arm of a sofa. “Perhaps someone just got it wrong? Or the king contracted a smith to provide a new, fresh crest and the old one got tossed.”

Elias fished his cell phone from his pocket and approached Caspian. He pulled up the photo he’d taken of the dagger’s hilt.

“Here are two pictures of the crest. As it appears on the hilt, and as it is today. I know you’re familiar with ours, but putting them side by side is interesting.” Elias handed Caspian the phone.

“I see what you mean,” Caspian said a moment later, flipping between two pictures. “Why is the A gone? You’d think, of all the design elements to let go of, that wouldn’t be one of them.”

“I don’t know. Has your family crest ever gone through a distinct change?” Elias asked.

“Several. It seemed there were upgrades until, finally, one of my ancestors decided they were happy with it and decreed there would be no additions or changes. That was eons ago, though.” Caspian handed the phone back.

Elias pocketed the device and resumed pacing. “I don’t know why it’s under my skin like it is. I’m going to spend some time digging through our library, see if I can find the history of the crest. I’d love to know why the A got dropped and why the lions now face away from each other.”

“You do realize you’re probably chasing ghosts, right? If that information wasn’t passed down through history and common knowledge to most, then I don’t think you’re going to find much about it. Anywhere.”

“You’re probably right. But that won’t stop me from looking.”

“No. No, it won’t. Let me know if I can be of any help. I’m willing to go into the dungeons with you, even, to search for more clues.”

“It may come to that, old friend. It just may come to that.”