Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Keller pauses and glances over at my phone.
Ding.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“I think so,” I say, my breath short. “Timmy is the only one who texts me.”
Ding.
I look over at the nightstand.
“But never this much unless it’s important.”
He pulls away from me, reaches for my phone, and hands it to me. “I know you’ll worry.”
He’s right, I will.
I sit up in bed and close the sides of my shirt, so my boobs aren’t just hanging out. Once covered, I open my text messages and see that Timmy has sent me a few, and then I see one from an unknown phone number. From the preview, it says The Informative.
“What’s going on?” Keller asks.
“That’s weird. Did you give my phone number to The Informative?”
“What?” he asks, confused.
I open the text message and read it out loud. “‘The Informative: breaking news alert. With a new princess in town, all eligible bachelors are lining up at the palace gates. But be warned, she isn’t available. Our very own private secretary to the king has finally gotten what he’s wanted all these years, a straight shot to the throne.’”
“What,” Keller roars. “What the actual fuck?”
My pulse quickens. Although, it almost doesn’t feel like it’s pumping blood through my body anymore. As my limbs turn numb, I continue to read. “‘Little known fact, he was adopted by the king and . . . queen . . .’” I trail off and look up at Keller, his eyes searching back and forth as he digs around in his pocket for his phone. “‘Unable to take the throne because he doesn’t hold the Strom blood, he’s taken the only route he knows that will get him there, through the future queen. Let’s just hope she sees this before she falls too hard for his fake charm.’”
The phone drops out of my hand and falls to the ground.
Adopted?
Keller must have gotten the exact text because he’s reading it on his phone, his hand driving through his hair aggressively. When he’s done reading, he shoots up to his feet and turns toward my door to leave.
“Hey,” I call out to him. “Are you going to fucking explain any of this?”
Realizing I’m still in the room, he says, “Fuck . . . it’s not true.”
“What’s not true? The adoption?”
“No . . . that’s, uh, that’s true, but the part where I’m trying to take the throne, that’s not true.”
“Keller, how could you not have told me?”
He’s pounding through his phone, not paying attention to me.
“Keller,” I shout, drawing his eyes up to mine. “Focus on me.”
“I’m having a hard time doing that when I’m trying to figure out how this random number texted you, how they knew about The Informative.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“It’s not real.”
“What’s not real?”
“The Informative. It’s just something I came up with to fuck with you since you were trying to fuck with me. No one knew about it. No one but—” His eyes darken. “No fucking way.”
“What?” I ask, but he takes off toward my door. “Keller, wait, talk to me.”
But he’s gone before I can stop him, my door clicking shut.
I stare toward his retreat, waiting for him to come back, for him to charge through the door, but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t return all night.
And in the morning, when he’s supposed to greet me once I’m ready and lead me to the grand entrance, where I’m supposed to parade around the capital in a car . . . he’s not there either.
Chapter Twenty-Two
KELLER
My feet pound against the stone floors through the servants’ quarters. People ask me if I’m okay as I make my way through the halls, but I ignore them. There’s one thing on my mind, one person, and nothing will get in my way until I have answers.
When I reach room 270, I raise my fist and pound on the door. “Lara, open up,” I yell. I pound some more until the door unlocks and Lara’s startled face comes into view.
Looking her dead in the eyes, I ask, “Where is he?”
“Who?” she asks.
“Who the fuck else would I be talking about?” I ask as I toss her door open, slamming it against the wall.
“Brimar?” she asks. “He’s not here. What’s going on?”