Page 40 of A Wise Prince

I narrow my eyes at him. “Seriously? You can’t say shit like that and just expect me to not ask questions.”

Auggie sighs and leans back against the cushions. He’s quiet for a long moment, contemplating something. I can see the struggle play out over his face. I’m about to give up on him telling me anything when he turns to me as though gauging my trustworthiness. “Do you know about my mother’s crown?” His voice is low, and I almost don’t hear it with all the wind blowing around us.

His question takes me by surprise. “Y-yes?” I answer. His eyes search mine again.

I decide at that moment that I want him to trust me. I don’t know why. I don’t understand why. I just do. I reach out and grip his hand, giving it a squeeze of encouragement. My eyes search his back and I know the moment he decides that he can trust me because the fierce look in his eyes dissipates into something else less severe.

“I’m here to find it,” he finally reveals.

I blink because I don’t understand. I mean, I understand that the crown belonging to his mother is missing. It’s like one of those famous unsolved mysteries, like Amelia Earhart’s plane or the Lost City of Atlantis or all those missing planes in the Bermuda Triangle.

“It’s here?” I ask, looking around like an idiot as though the crown is right here on this sailboat.

He motions back to shore. “It might be here. I…” He trails off as he contemplates his words.

I bite my lip because I’m about to jump off a giant-ass cliff and I see it coming but I don’t care. My anger from earlier is now gone, replaced with concern. I need to know because…I suddenly realize that I want to help him. I care about him, and that thought scares the shit out of me. “You can trust me, Auggie,” I say as I look up at him. “Trust me.”

I feel like an invisible bubble just formed around us. Part of me never wants to leave. Part of me never wants to be anywhere but right here. I feel safe next to Auggie and I have a foreboding feeling that what he’s about to tell me is going to shatter any false sense of security that I may have.

“There’s an auction,” he begins, “it’s this underground thing. They sell stolen artifacts, artwork.”

“So, you’re going to it?” I ask, my eyes widening in surprise.

“Yes,” he says as he looks back at the shore as though he can see the auction if he looks close enough.

“But…why?” I ask. I still don’t understand.

He’s about to answer when what I gather is our first mate arrives at our side to ask if we’d like champagne. Auggie nods and asks for a bottle of expensive champagne.

He waits to speak until the first mate is back inside the cabin. “When Mom died, Anna was so little. She kept talking about Mom’s crown. Really, it’s a tiara but it was her favorite one. She was wearing it that day because of the gala she was attending was a fancy one. Mostly, Mom used any excuse to wear it. And so it became this fixation for my sister. That’s how she met Logan. She was searching for the crown and came upon a murder for hire on the web. Logan turned out to be a secret prince and someone wanted him and all of us dead. We all know now that someone was my uncle. But even though Anna has put the crown search mostly behind her, I just haven’t let it go. I’m ninety-nine percent sure it wasn’t Uncle Hans that took her crown, but I don’t know who or why. I guess a small part of me just wants answers.”

“Do you think you’ll ever get them though? It’s been years,” I prompt.

He shrugs. “To be honest, I don’t know. I just feel like I can restore a small part of her if I can find that damned crown and bring it home. Every time I go in our crown jewels vault, the empty space it used to sit in is staring back at me and…I just can’t let it go.”

I squeeze his hand. I don’t know if it’s his brutal honesty or the fact that in the mute colors from the sunset he looks younger or if the pained little boy that lost his mother shines through more when he speaks of her, but I find myself wanting to help him, wanting to heal him. I’ve lost my fucking mind, but the words leave my mouth before reason can take hold.

“I want to help.”

He looks at me in shock and then pulls himself together. “No.”

I close my eyes and square my shoulders because I am stubborn, and I don’t like no for an answer.

“Just hear me out. Wouldn’t it make more sense if I come with you? You could be looking for something to buy for me,” I point out.

“No. There’s no fucking way that I’d let you anywhere near the likes of the people who are going to attend this auction,” he hisses, his eyes burning fiercely.

“But—”

He places a finger over my lips. “You are a stubborn woman, Kate. But I can’t risk anything happening to you. Hell, I’m not sure I want to risk going to this auction, but something in my gut tells me I need to be there.”

“At least let me stay with you and help plan it,” I urge. “You may find my skills useful.”

He looks perplexed and I realize he doesn’t know my area of expertise. “You don’t know what I’ve been studying, do you?”

His brows furrow in confusion.

“International relations and politics, but the main topic of my thesis is on the usage of spies in diplomacy,” I explain.

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