Page 200 of Bride By Coronation

Ulrich steps closer. "It's time to go."

"Where?" I question.

"To Pompeii."

"Why?"

His lips twist before he taunts, "Didn't you hear?"

My gut flips. I wait for him to speak.

He continues, "There's a ritual tonight."

Goose bumps break out on my skin. I clench my jaw, not willing to give him the satisfaction of a response, and hold myself back from tearing him to shreds.

He leans into my ear, exclaiming, "Our ritual tonight is the Tainted Crown."

Anger and fear flare inside of me. I demand, "Where's my wife?"

"Oh, don't you worry. She's already on a plane," he informs me with an evil grin.

My gut drops further.

"Well? Shall we get going? You know how it's not nice to be late," he goads.

"Fine." I walk toward the exit.

His men fall into line behind me.

I step out of the bar and direct Sergio, "Send the royal plane to wait for me in Pompeii."

He gives me a worried glance and nods. "Yes, Your Majesty."

I make my way through the yacht, step onto the dock, and go to the SUVs waiting in the lot. One of the drivers opens a back door, avoiding my gaze. I give him the same look I gave the men, warning, "I'll remember you too."

He grinds his molars.

I slide into the back seat. Ulrich gets in next to me and shuts the door. I stare out the window, trying to determine how to keep Fiona and myself alive once we get to Pompeii.

Her copy of the Royal Doctrine wasn't an original. I've studied it for days, trying to stay busy and not go crazy waiting to hear from her. While it's subtle, the missing information is apparent. Only one who knows it inside and out can tell pertinent information has been removed.

They're going to use it against her.

The airport isn't far. We pull up next to the plane, and I get out, climbing the staircase and brushing past Ulrich's attendant. I sit and try to open the shade, but it's locked.

Rage fills me. It's what The Underworld does to new members before they've earned our trust. It's so they don't know where they're going. To do this to me, the king, is to show I have no power.

I don't right now.

"What shall we talk about?" Ulrich asks.

I lean back, close my eyes, and don't speak. I never fall asleep, spending the long flight going through scenarios for once the ritual starts. No matter how hard I think, I come to the same conclusion—Fiona and I are screwed.

We arrive in Pompeii, and I walk through the dim, barely-lit hallway. I try to open the door for the royal quarters, but it's locked.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. That's not for you," he scolds.

I need to see Fiona.

---