Princess in Peril

by Rachelle Mccalla

  “I am a citizen of Lydia.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “My mother is Lydian. My father is American.”

  Isabelle felt her eyes narrow. Was he baiting her? Her father, King Philip of Lydia, had married an American—her mother, Queen Elaine. But it was a rare combination, and she found it doubly suspicious that she and Levi had something so unique in common. “Who do you work for?”

  “The Lydian government.” Impatience flickered in his blue eyes. “We should get moving.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  His expression relaxed slightly. “I sensed that. If you will agree to keep moving, I will explain a bit more of who I am and what I know of this afternoon’s attack.”

  Isabelle’s mouth opened slightly as she weighed her answer. Should she move farther into the darkness with this stranger? Every warning bell inside her clamored against it. Yet really, what choice did she have? Surely only danger waited above them. “Where are we going? What about my family? They were up there in the motorcade—”

  “We can’t do anything to help them now. You have a responsibility as a member of the royal family not to endanger yourself, correct?”

  “Yes.” Isabelle felt her shoulders droop with resignation. How many times had her parents reminded her of that fact? Every time she left the country—every time she’d ever tried to do anything on her own. Even her humanitarian work overseas was often hampered by her royal obligation to her own safety.

  “Then you can’t go back up. We can only go forward.” He looked down at the dim light from her cell phone. “We should save the battery. Close that—we can walk in darkness.”

  A protest rose to Isabelle’s lips, but she doubted it would do her any good to voice her fears. Levi was right about the light. There was nothing more for it to illumine—just the stone walls of the catacomb, and they could feel their way along those well enough. Surely the light would become more urgently necessary in the future. He was wise to advise her not to waste it.

  She snapped the phone shut and the light went out, leaving them in total darkness again. “Explain, then. Who are you? And what just happened up there?”

  Levi cupped her elbow with one hand. In the total silence of the tunnel she could hear his other hand skimming along the wall as they moved cautiously down the cobbled floor. The blue-eyed bodyguard began his story.

  “My father works for a Christian organization called Sanctuary International. Their primary mission is to help religious refugees find asylum. Thirty-five years ago, when he was working in the Balkan region, he formed close ties with your father. Lydia is one of the few countries in the region where religious freedom is zealously defended, and your father proved to be an invaluable ally.

  “During that time, my father and mother met and were married, but they returned to the United States before I was born. I received dual Lydian-U.S. citizenship through my parents, and though I was raised in the United States, I often spent summers visiting my grandparents in Lydia.”

  Levi paused. “The wall curves away,” he murmured, “and I suspect it forks.”

  Before he finished speaking Isabelle had her phone out, and its tiny light illuminated the two branching tunnels gaping open in endless darkness. The bodyguard glanced between them before nodding. “This way.” He didn’t hesitate to step forward down the right-hand branch.

  “Why this way?”

  “After two more turns we will be below the Sardis Cathedral. It should be safe to exit there.”

  “How do you know the catacombs so well?” Isabelle closed her phone reluctantly, still suspicious of his motives in spite of his story.

  “I’ve been studying them for the past six days.”

  “Why?”

  Levi seemed to struggle with how to answer her. Once again, Isabelle’s suspicions were raised. Was he really who he said he was? Did the history he told her really happen, or was he simply making it up to placate her until the rest of his nefarious plans could be accomplished?

  His answer seemed to come in a roundabout way. “Our aid workers in the region have formed close ties with many Christians with diverse political ties. Six days ago, an informant delivered a coded message at a Sanctuary outpost on the Albanian border. The next morning his body was found floating in the Mursia River.”

  Isabelle found that her steps had slowed as she listened closely to Levi’s explanation. “What did the coded message say?” She shivered a little as she stepped tentatively through the darkness, uncertain whether she really wanted to know the answer to her question.

  Apology and regret filled Levi’s voice. “It contained instructions for an attack on the royal family.”

  “Today’s attack?”

  “Presumably. It did not give a date or time. That’s why I immediately replaced your usual bodyguard.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The message was supposed to be delivered to Alfred, the man who was scheduled to guard you today. He was apparently a member of this insurgent organization. The message contained instructions. As soon as the first explosion detonated, Alfred was supposed to kill you.”

  TWO

  Levi didn’t like sharing the details of the planned attack with Isabelle. He didn’t want to cause her any more distress than she’d already experienced. But because she didn’t trust him, he didn’t know how else to impress upon her the gravity of her circumstances. Whether she trusted him or not, he needed her to follow his every instruction. Their lives would depend on it.

  Now the princess stumbled and Levi held her arm more firmly to steady her.

  “Alfred?” Isabelle repeated, disbelief in her tone. “He’s been part of my guard for four years.”

  “I know, and a member of the royal army for sixteen years before that. We have been unable to determine when he joined the insurgents.”

  “Where is he now?” Isabelle asked. “I should hope he was arrested and questioned.”

  “He was floating in the Mursia next to the man who brought us the message.”

  “Yet the insurgents still went through with the attack? If they knew enough to kill those men, they had to have known the note was intercepted.”

  Levi could only guess at what their original plans might have been. “Perhaps they thought the longer they waited, the more time we would have to prepare a defense.”

  “But if my father knew about this, why did my family stay in Lydia? Why didn’t we leave the moment the message was intercepted?”

  With his head bent a little closer to hers in the darkness, Levi wished he could study the face of the princess entrusted to his care. “Surely you know the answer to that question.”

  A resigned sigh was Isabelle’s only indication of emotion. “My father would never leave the throne. It would signal to the insurgents that he was a coward.”

  Levi nodded. “They would see it as an open door to walk through and take the country.”

  “Then why weren’t my brother and sister and I at least sent away? Why were we all in the same motorcade?”

  “The three of you were originally supposed to be riding in the same car,” Levi reminded her. “Your father refused to call off the state dinner for the same reason he would never run away from his throne.” Levi had begged the king to send his children away for their own safety, but he understood King Philip’s reasons for keeping them there. They had argued about it well into the night. Levi was still exhausted from missing sleep.

  Now he answered the princess patiently. “Your father believed that, with the message intercepted, the insurgents would change their plans and call off their attack. He feared that if he tried to send you away, they would see it as a sign of weakness and instead attack with greater force. He thought this would be the best way to keep you safe.”

  Isabelle trembled. Levi realized that, on top of all that had happened, the damp cold of the catacombs was probably getting to her. With only narrow straps instead of sleeves, her dress surely did little to keep he
r warm.

  As her regal posture sagged under the weight of all she’d absorbed, Levi slid off his tuxedo jacket and nestled it around her shoulders. He, too, feared for her family and what may have happened to them. She had surely guessed their fate, and Levi had no reassurances to give her. There was really very little hope for the Royal House of Lydia.

  “We should keep moving,” he said softly after her trembling had given way to sniffling. “If we can reach other Sanctuary team members, perhaps they will have good news about your family.”

  “Maybe I should try calling them.”

  Levi sucked in a breath.

  “Why not?” Isabelle pulled back from him.

  “We don’t know who would answer your call, and we can’t risk the wrong people finding out where you are. For the same reason, I have no intention of using my phone until we reach a safe location. If Alfred was working for the insurgents, anyone could be.” He urged her on. “The best thing we can do right now is get you out of here.”

  The princess took several deep breaths but made no move to head forward.

  “You still don’t trust me?” he asked.

  “I trusted Alfred.”

  Levi nodded. “Perhaps you are wise not to trust me.” Her long hair, which had been piled high in an artful arrangement for the state dinner, had come loose, and a thick strand brushed his hand. “Can you open the light?”

  She clicked her phone open, and her wide brown eyes stared fearfully up at him in its thin glow. Gently he pushed the loose hair back from her eyes.

  “Your hands were burned,” she accused him as his fingers passed through her line of vision.

  “I hadn’t meant for you to notice,” he apologized. “There is nothing we can do for them here.”

  The princess straightened, as though drawing from a well of courage only a royal could tap. “Then we must get to a first aid kit. Let’s hurry.”

  Levi took her cue and turned them down the next tunnel, which would lead under the centuries-old Cathedral where many Lydian saints were buried. The church had been built upon the rumored burial place of the original Lydia, an early leader in the Christian church whose conversion by the Apostle Paul was detailed in the sixteenth chapter of the Book of Acts in the Bible. The nation of Lydia had been named for her house church, and the royal family, including Isabelle herself, could trace their roots back to Lydia’s family.

  It was a reminder to Levi of the amazing lineage of the woman who held their only light as they walked through the darkness of the catacombs. Though he had long respected Isabelle from afar as he’d read about her humanitarian efforts as a princess, he was even more impressed with her in person. And she was even more beautiful than the newspaper photos he’d seen.

  “Which way?” Isabelle asked when they arrived at the next fork in the tunnel.

  It was a good question. Levi had studied hand-drawn maps of the tunnels, which were known only to a select few. Because King Philip had supplied the maps, Levi had assumed the whole royal family would be familiar with the layout of the catacombs. It surprised him that Isabelle was unaware of their very existence. Now he tried to recall the detailed twists and turns of the elaborate underground labyrinth.

  The light from Isabelle’s phone dimmed. “Do you know which way it is?”

  Finally able to picture he map in his head, Levi pulled her a little closer to him as they headed down the left-hand passageway. “This way, but let’s leave the light off if we can. We might need it more later.”

  To his relief, Isabelle didn’t argue with him but shuffled along beside him as they made their way down the tunnel in dizzying darkness. He could only hope she would cooperate with him for as long as it might take to get her to safety. Their situation was difficult enough, and Levi desperately needed the mission to be successful.

  Not only did he care about his mother’s home country and feel allegiance toward the Royal House of Lydia, but he also had a very personal reason why the mission could not fail. His father didn’t just work for Sanctuary International, he was its president. And he’d be retiring in another year. Everyone expected Nicolas Grenaldo to appoint one of his two sons to be president after him.

  And that was just the trouble. Although Levi had spent four years in the Lydian army before going on to law school, he didn’t have any battle experience. He’d studied international law, thinking at the time it would give him the best possible background for leading an organization that helped people throughout the world. Too late he’d realized no amount of studying would earn him the respect and admiration of his peers within Sanctuary.

  His little brother, Joe, however, had spent six years in the United States Marine Corps, followed by several successful and high-profile operations with Sanctuary. Joe had saved the lives of dozens of missionaries, political figures and refugees over the years.

  Levi had saved no one. As the older brother, he should have been the natural choice to follow in his father’s footsteps. But as of right now, Joe was everyone’s favorite. Joe was a hero. Levi desperately needed this mission to go well if he wanted his father to see him as anything other than a scholar. And for that to happen, he’d have to have Isabelle’s cooperation.

  The darkness was so complete it made his eyes hurt. Levi had almost begun to wonder if he’d missed the stairs when a gap in the wall left him grasping into the open air.

  He stopped.

  Isabelle snapped her light on just long enough to display a twisting set of stone stairs that curled upward and out of sight. Then she let the light die again before stepping forward onto the first stair.

  “Wait,” Levi whispered, tugging her back. “We need to discuss our next step.”

  As he pulled her back, she brushed near him, and this time, with her standing one step higher on the stone stairs, he felt her lose hair brush past his cheek and smelled her flowery fragrance, so different from the dank catacombs. He swallowed, refusing to allow himself to think about how close she was to him.

  Levi had always known Isabelle was a beautiful woman, but he was in her life for a short time only, to fulfill a specific mission. He would behave with absolute decorum. She was, after all, a princess. And he’d been briefed privately by her father about the horrors of her failed engagement. Sympathy and respect stifled his otherwise-strong sense of attraction toward her.

  She must have realized how close she’d gotten to him in the darkness because he felt her back away. He doubted she felt anything near the kind of attraction he did, but then, she’d already said she didn’t trust him. Perhaps it was best that way.

  “What is your plan?” Isabelle asked.

  He could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek and realized she hadn’t backed too far away from him after all. Still holding her arm with one hand, he analyzed their options.

  “We don’t know if the insurgents are aware of the catacombs or of the opening below the cathedral. I would assume not, but—” He hesitated.

  “I would assume nothing, under the circumstances.”

  Levi agreed. “We’ll make our way up the stairs in silence. I’ve never been through this way so I don’t know what we’ll find at the end.”

  “Is it even passable?”

  “Yes. Your father wouldn’t have allowed it to be marked as an exit if it wasn’t passable. But because we don’t know if it’s a sealed door or if your light will show—”

  “I’ll keep my light off.”

  “Good. Given the possibility of danger ahead, we can’t risk giving away our presence.”

  “Extreme caution.” Isabelle concurred, and he could feel her head nod in the darkness.

  Levi was acutely aware of the slight movement. She’d slowly allowed herself to lean closer to him. Did she realize how close to one another they now stood in the dark chamber? He tried not to think about his proximity to the princess.

  The pressing danger provided excellent distraction. “We’ll proceed with extreme caution,” he echoed. “If at any point we encounter an
y person or anything that seems out of the ordinary, we’ll halt and assess the situation. If danger is apparent, we’ll retreat back the way we came.”

  “And if we cannot retreat into the catacombs?” The princess tipped her head forward as she spoke, and Levi felt the softness of her hair come to rest near his jaw.

  Levi didn’t feel he ought to push her away, yet the floral perfume she wore teased his nostrils. “Then God help us.”

  Isabelle pulled back from him.

  The cold air of her absence cleared his mind. He realized how his words must have sounded and rushed to explain. “We don’t know the size of the forces the insurgents have attacked with. If they take the cathedral and block our passage to the catacombs, then it would mean they’ve completely overwhelmed your father’s government, in which case I don’t know how we could possibly get you out of the country alive.”

  “Out of the country?” Isabelle backed farther away from him this time. “You said my father didn’t want me leaving the country, that it would send the wrong message to the insurgents.”

  “That was before the attack,” Levi corrected her. “You can’t expect to stay—”

  “I will not leave!”

  Levi’s hand flew out to cover her mouth. “Shh,” he hushed her, aware of how loudly her voice had echoed. She squirmed away from him. He hadn’t intended to clamp his hand over her royal mouth, but he couldn’t risk letting her voice give away their location when they didn’t know who might hear.

  Cautiously he removed his hand.

  Isabelle whispered angrily. “You said my father wished to avoid any sign of weakness—”

  “They think you’re dead.” He tried to reach for her shoulder to pull her back so he could reason with her, but she batted him away. “Princess Isabelle.” He spoke her name with caution.

  “The Royal House of Lydia is not dead. We live and we reign.”

  Levi was reminded by the emotion in her words that she’d been raised with a profound sense of duty toward her people, an obligation of leadership that had been deeply ingrained since birth. It wasn’t in her to run away when her government was challenged. How could he make her understand that she had to do just that?