My heart started to thud against my chest wall. “You think his will could be here?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he replied. “Rumor was that he went back before he died. My bet is on the crypts. He loved history and well, we threw a hell of a party or two in those crypts so he could scare all the girls into going to his room. They didn’t let us live off campus back then.”
“Thanks,” I found myself saying as I hit the garage opener on my visor, pulling into my driveway.
“Yeah, sure. I gotta go, all right?”
I didn’t answer and he rang off. I navigated the car into the garage and closed the door behind me, shutting off the engine. Well, hell. He had given me exactly what I needed to move forward.
Chapter 3
Anna
I squinted at the tiny writing, trying to make out what it said. My father had written something in the margins of the book, and I had spent the last hour trying to decipher the faded ink, hoping that it was something important.
Likely it was some sort of musing from him, but it was from all the same source, which meant I needed to add it to my ever-growing collection of Alexei Kameno. Little by little, my father was taking shape in the pages of my journal, but I still felt like I was light-years away from the truth.
“Dammit,” I said softly, pushing the book away in frustration. Those words were nothing. I was nothing. Everything I was finding was nothing that was closer to me finding my mother.
Another dead end.
Threading my fingers through my hair, I tried to calm myself down and look at the facts. I had found out who my father was here at the academy, identifying him as a king just like the ones that enjoyed torturing me whenever they saw fit.
He was smart; far more intelligent than I could ever hope to be. He could have really done something amazing for the world given the papers I had read that he had written.
He was powerful once he left, given his holdings and investments. Maybe a little ruthless at the same time, but who wasn’t?
But the entire existence he had with my mother was still a big gray area in my research. I didn’t even know her name, only that Isauros truly hated her with a passion for butting into her marriage.
Not that I could blame her, I guessed, but still, I needed to know what had attracted my father to her. I felt like if I knew how they met, then it would give me a better understanding of who my mother was and why they hadn’t ended up.
Or why she had sent me to America instead of staying in the same country as he was.
“This library holds no answers.”
I eyed Royce as he sat down in the chair next to me, crossing his legs at his ankles. “Are you lost?”
He grinned. “I’m telling you the truth, pauper. The answers you are looking for are not in this library.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. “Do you care to be more specific, maybe?”
Royce gave me a shrug. “Maybe.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I stared at yet another king trying to worm his way into my life. Royce was the complete opposite of Arthur. He was crass and never one to sugar coat anything he had ever told me. Because of him, I had found out about their wager, severing my happily ever after from Arthur and putting me on this path to find out who I truly was.
He had accosted me more times than I cared to admit to myself, though he’d been very careful about not hurting me every time he did so. I had found myself more annoyed with him than frightened, but it was hard to ignore the fact that Royce Whitehall was gorgeous.
All the kings were, but he was more my type—if I had one, that was. Brown hair that curled at the ends, flashing hazel eyes that held a bit of hardness to them that had always made me feel uncomfortable when he glared at me, and a wide mouth that always held a sneer in my direction.
Well, until today that is. While the hardness was still present in his eyes, I noted that he was wearing a careless grin, like he was up to something.
Oh yeah, Royce was definitely up to something. “What do you want?” I asked, attempting to look casual myself. I wasn’t scared of him, but he did turn something on inside me that had me being more cautious than normal.
He leaned forward and I could see the faint bristles of an afternoon shadow dusting his strong jaw, the smell of mint drifting out of his mouth with each word.
Why, oh why couldn’t the kings be ugly? It would be a hell of a lot easier on me.
“I have a proposition for you, pauper.”
A laugh escaped me. “A proposition? Come on, Royce. You can’t possibly think I would agree to anything with you. If I recall, the last proposition you had for me, I nearly became pregnant.”
“Nearly doesn’t count, pauper,” he said, showing me a set of even white teeth. “For if I had been first, you wouldn’t be nearly.”
His words were crude, but I pushed them off. I was used to that with Royce. “Just a little cocky, are we?”
“You have no idea, pauper,” Royce grinned, the barest hint of a dimple on his left cheek. I felt my breath stutter in my chest at the sight, wondering if I had truly looked at Royce before now.
Oh dear God. “I want nothing to do with your proposition,” I forced out, clearing my throat.
