by Jillian Dodd
Lorenzo wraps his arms around Lizzie, pulling her into an embrace. "I am deeply touched that you would even consider going through with this. You are a strong, independent, and beautiful woman. Montrovia would be lucky to call you its queen."
"And what about you, Lorenzo?"
"I would be lucky as well."
"That settles it. If Huntley doesn't agree to marry you within the allotted time frame, I will." She laughs. "Unless you can use your power to change the law your father set forth."
"Unfortunately, I doubt Parliament would allow it. They believe an heir is the key to our country's stability."
"Here," Terrance says, taking a bottle of whiskey out of his desk drawer and pouring me a stiff drink. "Ellis brought us down some reinforcements last night."
I take a small sip, appreciating the gesture but doubting its effectiveness. I was planning to slip away by saying I needed to get ready, but Ari hands me the photo that was in the safety deposit box in Zurich and looks expectantly at me.
"When my mother took that photo, she told me she hoped I would always remember my visit to the Palacio de la Vallenta."
"Any idea why?"
"Because we had fun, I assume. I remember running around outside, playing in that spot, but I don't know where it is. When we got to Montrovia, literally the first thing I did was buy a ticket to tour the castle. I know you thought it was because I wanted to meet Lorenzo, but maybe it didn't have anything to do with the prince and more to do with my brain wanting to go because I had been there before."
"You were at the castle when the gunfire broke out. Wouldn't you have remembered something then?"
"Yeah, but nothing Lorenzo showed me is included in the public tour and, more importantly, I didn't see this wall. Not then, not at the Queen's Garden Party, and not at the Queen's Ball."
"Okay, so maybe we should move on from that," Terrance says. "Let's talk about the stamp on Kelley and Huntley Bond's passports when they arrived in Baghdad on May seventeenth."
"Baghdad?" I ask as a memory flashes in my head--of us going through customs.
"Tell anyone who asks here that your name is Lee," Mom told me just before we got off the plane. "Let's pretend we're on a secret treasure hunt and don't want anyone to know, so we're using false identities."
"That sounds so exciting," I replied. "Do you think we will find some treasure?"
"I don't know," she said, "but I'm hoping we'll at least find some answers."
"I remember, when we landed, she told me that, if anyone asked, my name was Lee. It wasn't that odd of an request since that was what she always called me."
Ari shows me a photo of a girl wearing an abaya with a hijab, standing near what looks like the TerraSphere in a desert location. There must have been a strong breeze that day because the headscarf is coming undone, revealing my smiling face.
"Bet you can't catch me," the girl said, running ahead.
We just met but became fast friends. Her hair was blonde, like mine. Well, like mine used to be. Mom dyed it a dark brown before we came here.
I easily caught her even though she is two years older than me.
"I'm sick of the sand," she said, plopping down into it and running it through her hands. "I miss home."
"Where is home?" I asked.
"Denmark. It's the most beautiful place in the world. But my mother died, and my dad brought us here for his job."
"What does he do?" I drew a tic-tac-toe board in the sand and put an O in one of the spaces to start a game.
"He's a scientist and sort of like a superhero. He fights germs with the vaccines he makes. Only he works underground, and I can't go see him during the day because it's too dangerous."
"So, you just play in the sand?"
"I wish. I have to go to school. I only got to take the day off since my dad wanted me to babysit you."
"I don't need a babysitter," I scoffed.
Then, I see my mother's eyes.
"It's just not coming back to me," I say.
"Why are you crying?" Ari asks.
I touch my face, feeling cool tears. "Because, with every picture you show me, I can hear her voice and see a few fleeting scenes, but as soon as I try to recall the details, I see my mother--our mother--getting shot. It's awful, Ari," I say, now sobbing. "It's why I couldn't kill The Priest. It's why I took his son. It's why I didn't kill him, even when he tried to blow us all up. I couldn't do that to Chauncey. Blackwood Academy failed. I'm not the hardened killer they wanted me to be."
Ari wraps me in a hug and pats my back. "What you did to rescue Enzo and me was nothing short of spectacular."
"It's what makes you special," Terrance adds, handing me a tissue. "You have a conscience."
"And I'm in love with Lorenzo."
"Now, that we all know," Ari teases. "I know it's hard, but we're not done with the photos. Try to remember this time without closing your eyes."
I nod in response, so he takes my hand again, giving it a squeeze. "After you left Baghdad on the nineteenth, you must have flown to Orlando because your passport is stamped there on May twentieth. In this photo, you're standing next to a silly-looking alligator."
"That's the crocodile from Peter Pan. I'm at Disney World. There was a flower festival, and Peter was on top of a building in London. I ate fish and chips." I pause. "We'd been somewhere first though. Mom told me, if I didn't complain about the drive, she'd take me to Disney." I pause, thinking. "Terrance, pull up the conspiracy theories that were on the locket. No, wait, it was in Clarice's journal. She mentioned that Viktor had donated to the Terra Project in Florida. And we looked it up when the word terra came up in the chatter. I think maybe we were there. But what do any of those places have to do with Ares? We couldn't find any ties from the Terra Project to his TerraSphere. Wait, I remember a man. Living in the swamp. He had a beard. He showed us his garden."
"This man?" Terrance asks, whipping his computer in front of me.
"Jules Raphael," I say without thinking.
Ari studies my face and smiles. "You just remembered that on your own. The next picture is from the Coke museum in Atlanta. Do you remember going there?"
"Yes, we flew to Atlanta. I remember Mom telling me it was one of the busiest airports. But we drove somewhere out in the middle of nowhere and saw this thing that looked like Stonehenge."
"The Georgia Guidestones?" Terrance asks. "It's near Atlanta, and it is in the conspiracy theory papers on the disk."
"Maybe," I answer. "The next day, we went to the Coke museum. Mom met a friend there. They talked the whole time we were on the tour. I thought it was annoying."
"Do you remember anything that was said?"
"They were talking about food--no, wait, they were talking about seeds. Seeds in a bank, which made me laugh because you're supposed to put money in banks, not seeds."
Terrance rushes over to a pile of papers. "This was also on the disk. The World Seed Vault. It's on an island off Norway near the Arctic. Conspiracy theorists say it's really a doomsday vault. A way to replenish the earth after a nuclear Armageddon."
"Does that mean someone's going to take control of Montrovia, cause a nuclear Armageddon, and then start over with Montrovia in control of whatever's left?" I shake my head. "I mean, really, I like the new Atlanta football stadium theory--where it will open up like a Transformer to reveal a weapon of mass destruction and save us when the aliens attack--better than that."
Ari laughs. Terrance doesn't. He nods like he agrees.
"Here's what I suggest," Ari says. "You go get ready for your date. Tomorrow, we'll go see what's in the Montrovian safety deposit box."
"And go on the castle tour," Terrance adds, placing two tickets in my hand. "Hopefully, being there in person will help you remember, like it did at the lab."
"And then we leave for Rome," Ari says. "Enzo and I have our first Society meeting there, which means you can visit the museum."
"What about Marquis Dupree? Our mission is to deal with him."
"The search for a way to get to him is taking place over at our secret headquarters," Terrance says.
"What are you talking about?"
"I told you about the safe house here?"
"Yeah."
"Some friends are there, working together. It's a motley, multinational crew. Let's see, we have Intrepid from Britain, Josh from America, an admiral from Montrovia, an Israeli spy, the assassin known as The Priest, the old hacker known as The Bartender, and of course, we can't forget Olivia the Plague."
I can't help but smile and feel happy that I'm not doing this completely on my own. But the words both the dean and The Priest told me keep playing through my head.
Trust no one.
And I wonder if I should heed their warnings.
Going through the tunnels to see Lorenzo feels very clandestine and gives me a rush. I feel like I'm in an old spy movie, racing across Russian enemy lines to be with the man I fell in love with. Today has been an emotionally trying day, and I'm so ready to just collapse in his arms and soak in the love he radiates. He's like the calm port in my stormy life.
I've barely breached the war room before his lips meet mine in a passionate kiss.
"I could get used to being greeted like this," I murmur against his neck.
"I've missed you desperately," he says, kissing me again. Only after what sounds like a determined sigh does he pull his lips from mine. "You look devastatingly beautiful."
He takes in the sinful dress I chose to wear for dinner this evening. Even though I love that he wants to wait, that doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy on him.
"Thank you." I push my fingers through his hair. "Your face is stressed. Was your day difficult?"
"Lately, every day feels difficult, but tonight, we are putting the world behind us, for I have a surprise for you."
"The truffles?"
"The setting. Come with me."
He holds out his hand. I curtsy before taking it, causing him to grin. He leads me down the hall, up two flights of stairs, and then out a set of worn French doors to a curved stone balcony overlooking the sea.
"The view is so beautiful," I gush. "And we're standing on the balcony of a real castle turret. I feel like I'm living in the fairy tales of my youth. Maybe you should go to the bottom and ask me to let down my hair."
"I'm thrilled you like it, but we haven't reached our destination yet, my sweet," he says, pointing to an iron staircase. "Although I admit, it might be a treacherous climb, as the stairs were not created with your delicate-heeled shoes in mind."
"I don't think that's going to stop me," I say, looking up toward the top of the turret.
The stairs spiral around the outside of the turret, meaning our journey takes a while.
"It'd be easier if we just repelled back down," I tease.
"Do you have a rope under your dress?" Lorenzo asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind as we get to the top.
The steps were a little dangerous and only wide enough to walk up them in single file.
"No, but I do have a high-tenacity wire in my handbag that will hold us both for a quick ride down," I say, turning around to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Along with my lipstick, of course. You never know when you're going to need to make a quick getaway--whether from a lecherous date or a trained assassin."
"Good to know you are prepared," he teases.
He leans me back into a sweeping kiss that gives me a brief feeling of falling. Falling in love most likely, although I suppose we could have tumbled to our death if he had stumbled.
After our kiss, he leads me into the room at the top of the turret where a dinner table is set for two with the finest of china, gold flatware, and heavy crystal. There is a single ornate chandelier hanging above it, and candles glowing in hurricanes line the circular room.
"How are they ever going to get our food up here?"
He grins at me and points to a modern elevator in the back of the room.
"Ah! Why didn't we take that?"
"Because I thought you, of all people, would appreciate the adventure of doing it the old-fashioned way. This turret helped mark the entrance to the Port of Cap de Playa Antilles. The men of Montrovia have a long history as skilled boatmen and maritime merchants, which means they were often at sea. Legend says, women used to climb the stairs, even in the wind and pouring rain, to wait or pray for their loved ones' safe passage. If they were lucky enough to spot their ship arriving, they would rush to the docks to reunite. Very romantic."
"And very stressful," I say with a smirk. "Nowadays, I could just put a GPS tracker on your boat and watch your travels on my phone from the comfort of my bedroom."
He kisses me. "You are teasing me, I think."
"It is quite the romantic gesture. And incredibly beautiful up here. I imagine the view to be as delightful in the daytime."
"I have a mission for you," he says, sweeping me into his arms again.
"You do?" I ask as I envision what it must have felt like to sit here in this cold, dark turret, doing nothing but watching the ocean, waiting for your love to return, each hour and day that passed causing you more worry than the day before as you wondered if he would make it home.
"In four days' time," Lorenzo says, "we will meet with my mother to inform her of our courtship. More than likely, she will want to very quickly announce it to the world. I suspect we'll have to do a photo shoot, possibly a few interviews, and, um, maybe a little press conference."
"Okay," I agree, still thinking about the heartbreak and despair the sailor's wife would feel. "This is a very romantic location, but it holds sorrow, too--with the dark sea seeming to rise nearly to the moon."
Lorenzo kisses my neck in response and then takes my hand as we circle the room.
This view on the other side of the turret is quite different. Lights fill the Montrovian capital, a combination of boats in the busy harbor and homes dotting the hillside. Such a contrast to the solitary feel of the ocean.
"I've been to a lot of places in the world," I say, "but there's something about Montrovia. With its rich history, dazzlingly sea and countryside, it's a special place that you get to call home."
"I've decided to restore this room in your honor. I want Montrovia to be your safe place against the sea."
"It feels like home already, although I suspect it has more to do with you than the view."
"When will you receive your next mission?" he asks, looking worried.
"I got it today actually."
"And what were you charged with doing?" After I repeat my orders, he says, "No matter what, I need you to be here on Sunday to meet with my mother. I will make an appointment with her assistant but not divulge the itinerary. It will be a lovely surprise."
"Does it have to be Sunday?"
"Yes, because, on Tuesday, if you have not agreed to a courtship, she will move forward with announcing my betrothal to Lizzie."
"If you were smart, you'd marry Lizzie," I say even though that's the last thing I want him to do.
"I have no desire to marry a woman I do not love. But, if we are to move forward in our relationship, I do need to ask you a few important questions."
The elevator opens, causing Lorenzo to stop speaking. He leads me to the table, pulling out my chair. We are seated side by side, offering us both ocean and harbor views.
A wine steward serves us champagne and the chef presents our first course, then they retreat down the elevator, giving us time to enjoy the meal alone.
"First, we must toast," Lorenzo says. "To us and to a love worth waiting for." After we touch glasses, he continues, "Although this is a topic all couples discuss as their relationships progress, due to my being royalty, it takes on a different kind of importance."
"Just say it, Lorenzo. What do you want to know?"
"Do you desire children?" he blurts out.
"I have always been fascinated with children, although I don't know for sure if I have ever been one myself."
&nbs
p; "You and Chauncey have a special closeness," he counters.
"He's the smartest kid I've ever met. And those big blue eyes. How do you ever say no to him?" I chuckle. "I'd adopt him tomorrow if I could. But answering your question is complicated because I was trained not to want such things. Whoever created Black X knew about me and who I really was, but I think maybe Ari was a surprise to them. Something they hadn't planned for."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because, if they knew that I'd eventually be teamed up with my brother, they would have trained me very differently--to work with a partner rather than to completely rely on myself."
"So, how did they find out he was your brother?"
"I have a theory. Well, I've had numerous theories running through my mind today, but only one seems plausible. Six months ago, shortly after your uncle's death, they started working me harder, probably preparing me for my upcoming insertion back into society. They would have checked and double-checked my legend for any and all possible holes. It would have to survive scrutiny from places like the CIA and your own agencies. I think that's when they discovered Ari's birth certificate along with mine.
"Up until then, all of my training was aimed toward me as an individual working alone. But then they suddenly and unusually started pairing us up. They put me with Josh specifically rather than my friend, who I would have preferred. We were tasked with conducting mission simulations as a team. And I'll be honest, I wasn't very good at it. I was taken into the dean's office more than once over it.
"Also around that time, they sent Ari to train with the CIA. No one does that at his age. Then, I think they screwed up. Ares died, and a lawyer contacted Ari because he's listed in the will for real. But then Black X made it Ari's 'mission' to work with me, pretending to be siblings. For some reason, at that point, they didn't want us to know that we were really twins."
"Speaking of twins, we must return to our original conversation. Do they run in your family? When we marry, producing heirs will be a necessity. I don't want to pressure you, but if our relationship is going to be blessed by my mother, she'll want to know you understand that."
"Lorenzo, if we don't figure out what's going to start in Montrovia, there might be nothing left for your heirs."
"So, your plan is to discover the plot, stop it from happening, and then retire here, with me?"
