We didn’t have time to bother with armored SUVs and palace drivers, plus the less attention we drew, the better. So Garrett signed out one of the plain black Mercedes the guards used for palace business and we started up the twisting road to the dam. My phone rang: Caroline.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she said, “But I didn’t know who else to call and I thought you and Garrett might still be awake.”

I glanced at Garrett. Even now, Caroline still knew how to make me blush. “We were. What’s up?”

She sighed. “It’s nothing, just...this guy’s calling from New York and he’s demanding to speak to someone in authority. He won’t go away and he won’t wait till morning. I can’t reach Aleksander for some reason and Sebastian is….” She broke off, her voice beginning to shake.

“I’ll take it,” I said firmly. “You get some sleep.”

She thanked me and a second later, my ear was assaulted by a gruff male voice with a New York twang. “Finally! About fucking time! This is Officer Tashiro, airport security. Am I speaking to someone high up?”

“You’re speaking to the queen,” I said politely.

His manner changed abruptly. I had to get through almost a minute of apologies before I found out what he wanted.

“It’s your security passes. I need ‘em back. I’ve been asking for days, but no one’s got back to me and it’s my fu—It’s my job on the line.”

“Security passes?”

“Two of your guys walked off with theirs after their inspection. God knows how they managed to get past my guys without handing them in, but they did, and it’s my ass if I don’t account for ‘em.”

I furrowed my brow. “Where did you say you worked?”

“JFK.”

New York. Where our flight had taken off from. “And when you say two of our guys….”

“Two of your security guys. I issued five passes, so your security team could inspect the aircraft before it flew. But only three of them ever came back to me.”

I went cold. The two assassins on the plane: they hadn’t been smuggled on board at all. Five men from Lukin’s squad had been welcomed aboard, posing as our security, and two of them had simply stayed on board. “Who organized this inspection?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He paused while he checked his paperwork. “A. Popovic.”

Aleksander.

I heard myself thank the officer. I hung up and sat staring at the phone in a state of total shock. That made no sense, unless….

Something was forming at the back of my mind, huge and dark and cold, so horrific that I didn’t dare look around and see it. But there were too many loose ends. And following each one suddenly seemed to lead me in the same direction.

We never found out who was leaking information to the assassins, when we were in America. I quickly dialed FBI Director Gibson. “Did you share your information with our military?” I asked breathlessly. “With a General Novak?”

“No, Your Majesty,” said Gibson. “We sent all our information to your parents via the palace, but that’s all.”

“Via who at the palace?”

“Your chief advisor, Aleksander.”

I thanked him and hung up. Ahead of us, the dam came into view. My mind was racing, now. A memory came back to me: Caroline, sobbing and hysterical, unable to believe her beloved Sebastian was a traitor.

What if he wasn’t?

I called the dungeon and had them get Sebastian out of his cell. He was a quiet, slender man in his twenties with glasses, always polite, a little shy. But when he spoke now, he sounded as if he’d aged thirty years, his voice brittle with exhaustion and fear.

We were driving along the top of the dam, now. I could see a lone figure standing waiting for us, right in the middle. My knuckles went white where they gripped my phone. “Sebastian?” I asked. “Did Aleksander have access to your phone? Could he have read your messages?”

“We work in the same room,” he said. “I leave it on my desk….”

My heart was thumping in my chest. “Did he know you were sleeping with Caroline?!”

Sebastian sighed. “I told her that no one knew, but... you know Aleksander. He knows everything that’s going on. He guessed. But he said he wouldn’t tell anyone. Your Majesty, what’s going on?”

I could hear the confusion in his voice. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that his boss, his friend, was a traitor. I couldn’t believe it either.

I thought back to that night the lights went out, in my room. Aleksander sitting there, advising me to have Sebastian tortured. Could he really have done that, knowing that he himself was the traitor? No. No way. And why would he betray us? Money? Power? He’d never shown any interest in either.

I sighed. There had to be some other explanation. Aleksander, a traitor? He was practically family! I thought of him as an uncle. I’d felt sorry for him: he’d seemed so lonely, since his son died—

We pulled up, right beside Aleksander. He opened my door.

Since his son died. In the war. Oh Jesus. That was his reason. Not money or power. Simple revenge.

“Drive!” I yelled hysterically to Garrett. “Go!”

But Aleksander grabbed my shoulder and wrenched me out of the car. And behind him, Silvas Lukin and General Novak stepped out of the shadows.