Two days later, Elias was back in the tunnels beneath Ahtissari Castle. The single light attached to his head gear sent a beam ahead into the gloom, bouncing off rough stone walls and a slightly uneven floor. He took care with his steps, pausing now and then to orientate himself on a map he held between both hands.

The tunnel systems were extensive and complicated, proof that his ancestors were deeply paranoid men.

At a juncture where the tunnel split into two, Elias stopped to mark the map with a stub of a pencil he always carried with his other supplies. He veered to the left this time, trading the pencil for a piece of chalk with which to mark the wall.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was get lost down there—an easy task thanks to the mazelike system of tunnels. He shone the light across the floor and walls, looking for anything unusual. His progress slowed considerably so that he did not miss something important.

A weird sensation suddenly gripped his spine and sent the hairs up on the back of his neck. He felt more enclosed than before, as if the tunnel space had shrunk and taken some of the air with it.

Elias knew what it meant.

It meant someone was in there with him. He felt their body mass as surely as he would have felt a fresh spring breeze.

A quick jerk of his body faced him back the way he’d come, the light bouncing off the walls to land on none other than the reigning king of Latvala.

His father.

Elias’s muscles relaxed. The tension leeched from his bones.

“And I’m not the quiet one of the bunch,” Sander said. “It took you long enough to realize I was here.”

“Judas’s bones, Dad. Why are you skulking around the tunnels? You could get lost,” Elias said. He shrugged the backpack strap higher onto his shoulder. Every time he came face-to-face with the king, Elias had the eerie sensation that he was looking ahead into the future. That this image was what he would see in the mirror as he himself grew into his latter years. A few pieces of silver threaded through Sander’s hair at the temples, though he still wore it at neck length with the top half drawn back into a small ponytail. The few wrinkles gathered at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth only added to a sense of wisdom the king carried with him always. Nothing about his physique had changed. His father stood tall, strong, the muscles of his arms and legs honed with use and frequent activity.

“Who says that these days? Judas’s bones. It’s like you’ve traveled through time or something,” Sander said, mouth quirked into a half grin. “And, if I may point out, you might also become lost. It doesn’t stop you.”

Elias muttered and dug into his backpack for a small flashlight that he handed across to his father. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing following me around down here?”

Sander accepted the light and snapped it on. “It’s not a crime to see what’s snared my eldest son’s interest. The same thing as usual, which doesn’t really surprise me.”

“That’s not why you’re here,” Elias said. He knew his father well. He rolled the map and tucked it into the backpack.

“No, it isn’t. I tried to catch you while you were upstairs in the main part of the castle—even home, at Kallaster. You’re slippery as a fish, always on the go. So now I have to do this here,” Sander said, pointing the flashlight beam indicatively at the stone walls.

“Do what here?”

“Tell you that your mother and I have, after intense and great consideration, made you a marriage match.”

It was the last thing Elias expected to hear. He was so stunned, at first he couldn’t breathe. Or move.

“Don’t worry. We chose well, and with care. She’s lovely, with a great personality. I think you’ll really like her,” Sander said.

Elias broke out into a cold sweat. His skin felt clammy. He waited for shock to pass so anger could take over. They’ve arranged your marriage. Chosen your future bride. Politics, again.

“You’ve nothing to say?” Sander asked, arching a brow. “Don’t you want to know who it is? It will make our country even stronger with her family as staunch allies.”

Suddenly, words tumbled from his mouth, and Elias didn’t care how loud his voice sounded echoing down the corridor in both directions. He was furious. “How the hell could you and Mom do this to me? You, of all people, who ranted on and on about how you hated that Grandfather and Grandmom tried to arrange yours and Uncle Mattias’s marriages. Now you’re telling me you’ve set up my own marriage? Are you insane?”

In the glow of his headlight and the illumination from the flashlight, Elias regarded his father with increasing frustration. The king’s blue eyes, still so clear and sharp, narrowed. Then the corner of Sander’s mouth twitched.

Elias frowned.

Sander threw his head back and guffawed. Loud, rude, obnoxious.

Elias realized then that his father had gotten one over on him. “You bastard.”

Which served to make Sander laugh harder.

Elias smirked.

“The fact that you believed any of that nonsense at all is amazing,” Sander said when he got his breath back. “My kingdom for a camera. If only I’d thought to record that look on your face. Your mother will be sorry she missed it.”

His father was right, of course. He should have known better. His parents would never trap him into any situation he didn’t want to be in, much less a permanent arrangement. Sander had sold the lie well, though, Elias assured himself.

“But you did follow me down here for a reason.” Elias knew that much, at least. Sander didn’t spend a lot of time in the belly of the beast. His father preferred sunshine and fresh air.

Sander’s expression sobered instantly. Elias knew that whatever his father said next would be serious. His stomach tightened. Concern spread through his system in lightning bursts while his mind ran one scenario after another.

“I did. Your phone doesn’t get a signal down here, or I would have called to pass on the message. Caspian has been trying to get a hold of you,” Sander said.

Elias took a step closer to his father. “He got the results back from the attempted drugging?”

“Yes.” Sander’s expression hardened as the truth fell from his lips. “It wasn’t a drug. It was poison. Someone made an assassination attempt on Inari Ascher’s life.”

---

Inari stared at her lap. At her intertwined fingers. Contemporaries who knew her mother always told her that she had her mother’s hands. Fine-boned, slender, tapering to slim nail beds that she kept neat and short.

Today, her hands shook.

Even clasped together, there was no escaping the subtle tremor.

“Inari?”

She glanced across the dainty sitting room to her father. Thane Ascher, with his dark goatee and serious eyes, sat forward on the tapestried divan. She read concern and anger in his gaze. Not anger at her, she knew. They had a great relationship. They were as close as a father and daughter could be.

The attempt on her life had, at first, sent him into long minutes of silent devastation. Then came several hours of questions, followed by two hours of absence.

Now he was back, hands pressed together at the end of his knees as if he might break into prayer at any moment.

Inari glanced back down to her fingers and willed the shaking to stop.

“I’ve got an entire team working with Caspian’s people. We’ll find out who did this,” he said.

“I know you will. I’m just . . . I guess I’m still in shock.” Her voice sounded quiet, even to her own ears. She wondered if her father heard her at all.

“We’ve talked about these things before. About how precarious our positions are, and the dangers that come with them. But bloody hell, I never expected someone to make an attempt in a packed room full of people and guards.” Thane’s hands came apart. He pushed one through his hair. “You have every right to be in shock. To a degree, we all are.”

“This will change everything, won’t it?” She glanced across the sitting room. In her periphery, the delicate blush and cream décor seemed out of place during such a dark conversation. It seemed at odds with the new weight she carried on her shoulders, with the endless cycle of fear that ate at her insides. Pretty floral arrangements decorated several small tables positioned near white leather furniture, but she couldn’t appreciate their beauty with her thoughts consumed by the nearly successful attempt on her life.

“I won’t lie. Yes, it will. You’re going to have to be even more cautious than usual when you’re out in public. Have someone check your drinks and food. Never consume anything someone hasn’t verified for you. I think you should abstain from travel for a few weeks. Stay here, where it’s safer, until we apprehend this photographer and question him,” Thane said.

“But then he wins. If he changes my routine, forces me to alter my life, he gets what he wants.”

“What he wants is to kill you.”

Inari frowned. Her father had a way of not mincing words. “You’ve always taught me to rely on my strength. I think extra caution is necessary, yes, but a large part of me balks at being forced to live within these four walls because someone has decided to . . . do away with me. Doesn’t it make us look weak if we hide?”

“So you’re saying you’d prefer to put your life in danger to mingle at high-stakes parties—for no other reason than to see and be seen.”

Well. That put her in her place. She had no reason to attend half the balls she typically attended other than to do exactly what he’d said.

Thane stood. “I’m not saying I disagree with you showing strength. Just make sure you show wisdom at the same time. Don’t make it easy for him.”

Inari rose to her feet and met her father halfway across the room. “I won’t attend any functions I don’t have to. And those I do—political meetings and other planned state visits—I promise I’ll be extra careful.”

She wrapped her arms around her father and exchanged a hug. He held her tight for five seconds, as if more deeply worried about her well-being than he wanted to admit. Inari’s throat tightened, but she swallowed down the knot and made eye contact without a trace of tears. He kissed her cheek then exited the room on silent feet.

After a moment, Inari summoned her guard. “Bero.”

The burly head of security stepped in from the hallway. “Your Highness.”

“Have our people contact Prince Elias Ahtissari and invite him for a formal meeting here at the palace. Tomorrow, if possible.”

“What may I say is the reason?”

“To discuss the upcoming conference in Berlin.” Inari planned to beat the stalker at his own game.