Page 85 of Kingdom of Locks

Amell stared at his mother. “That’s a very specific thing to remember.”

“A queen makes it her business to know the ages of the children in other royal families. And the princess was less than a year younger than you.”

“She means she was already plotting a marriage of alliance when you were a one-year-old,” Tora supplied helpfully.

“I wasn’t plotting anything,” said the queen, a touch crossly. “But of course I wished to be aware of the royals of similar ages to my own children. And Princess Aurelia, as I said, was—”

“Princess who?” Amell demanded, flying out of his chair. His heart was pounding, but he couldn’t make sense of the information flying around his mind.

“Princess Aurelia,” said the queen, staring at him in bemusement. “That’s the name of the princess who died as an infant.”

“Actually,” King Bern cleared his throat, his expression long-suffering as he attempted to reclaim his family’s attention, “she may not have died. Amell, for the last time, sit down. You’re not going anywhere until we formulate a response to this letter.”

Amell lowered himself back into his seat, his eyes wide and his mind completely incapable of forming words.

“What do you mean, she may not have died?” Queen Pietra demanded.

The king flourished the letter. “King Justin says that although he has always believed his sister to be dead, he has recently received information that suggests that she may be alive, but that if she is, she is definitely somewhere outside of Albury. He has sent letters to the monarchs of each of the other kingdoms in Solstice, begging us—”

“Begging?” Tora interrupted skeptically. “King Justin?”

“That was his precise choice of word,” said the king calmly. “He begs us to use whatever resources we can to ascertain whether Princess Aurelia and her companion might be concealed somewhere within our kingdom.”

“Good gracious,” said the queen faintly. “Do they suspect the accident to have been staged, and the princess kidnapped?”

“Something along those lines,” assented her husband.

Queen Pietra shook her head. “It would be a terrible thing if such a crime had been concealed within our borders all these years.” She frowned, clearly calculating. “Seventeen years…the princess would be nearing her eighteenth birthday if she’s alive. She would have spent her whole childhood at the mercy of her abductor.”

Amell opened his mouth, then closed it. Nothing would come. He was utterly unable to think of a single thing to say that the magic would allow.

“Is that the companion they mean?” Tora asked. “Whoever abducted her?”

The king shook his head. “She was with a minder when she fell into a ravine—or at least, when they thought she did. The woman was to be her lady-in-waiting, or some such. She also is believed to be alive, but outside the kingdom.” He cast his eyes over the letter again. “By some bizarre twist of fate, she was the mother of the commoner King Justin married.”

“Dragon’s flame,” Amell muttered, the color draining from his face. Could this be real? But it must be. It was impossible that his Aurelia could be a different one, also kidnapped as a baby and hidden away her whole life with one faithful companion whom she called mother but knew wasn’t the mother who’d given her birth. Abigail—or whatever her name really was—had even told him she was from Albury. And now he thought about it, her copper hair was just like Queen Felicity’s.

He suddenly remembered, with a physical start, how Aurelia’s striking coloring had reminded him of something. He could picture King Justin, sitting at the council table in Basil’s castle, little more than a month before. That dark hair and those piercing blue eyes were such an unusual combination…

Aurelia was King Justin’s sister. Aurelia was a princess.

“I’m glad you grasp the gravity of the situation,” Amell’s father said. “The matter is clearly delicate, and our relationship with Albury may be substantially affected by our response. But I’m reluctant to commit to anything costly. King Justin’s request, although heartfelt, is vague. Are we to scour the entire country, interview every girl between fifteen and twenty? Of course I will start inquiries, but we’re already in the midst of a different type of manhunt, one which is more urgent, given the very real risk to our people’s safety.”

I know where she is!Amell wanted to cry.And the danger she’s in is imminent, too!But he couldn’t say anything at all. Perhaps if he just hinted that the area around the prison would be worth examining. Perhaps he could confess that he’d spoken with dragons, and they’d told him of the concealment magic they’d sensed in the area.

But no matter what he decided to say, the words simply wouldn’t come. He was sure he could have told his father all about his interaction with the dragons at the time. If only he’d done so! But he hadn’t, and once he’d crossed into Cyfrin’s hidden clearing, and been engulfed in its magical protections, he’d lost his opportunity to be open with information that had turned out to be of grave importance.

“Father,” he said, his voice coming out unsteady. “I want to help with this search. Let me take a group. Some soldiers, a few enchanters. Perhaps Bartholomew will consent to come. I could…could look for…”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Amell,” said the king. “But we’re not ready for that yet. I’ll start with more discreet inquiries, see what that brings up. My hopes aren’t high. We must remember that even if King Justin is right, Fernedell is only one of five kingdoms where the princess could be concealed.”

“I understand,” said Amell, trying to hide the frustration coursing through him. “Thank you for telling me this news, Father. I’ll just—”

“Sit down, Amell,” said his father impatiently. “You’re not going anywhere until I’ve written a response to King Justin. With such a delicate matter, I don’t intend to send my reply with a courier. I thought perhaps you could lead a small delegation, convey our goodwill to King Justin along with a written commitment of assistance.”

“What?” Amell cried. “You want to send me to Albury now? No, Father, you can’t!”

“I think you’ll find I can,” said the king, scowling. “I thought you’d be glad of a task to do. You can’t pick and choose the duties that seem interesting to you, Amell.”

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