Page 146 of The Unlikely Heir
And then he stands, Callum in his full regalia, the Prince of Wales.
A lump in my throat chokes me. I have to turn away.
My gaze falls on the woman next to Amelia. She’s leaning down to retrieve her handbag, and her sleeve bunches up as it brushes against her trousers, exposing a tattoo on her inner wrist.
1282.
My forehead scrunches.
Why is that date so familiar? I stare at the numbers engraved in her flesh, trying to solve the mystery.
Suddenly, Callum’s history lesson flies into my head. The last Welsh Prince of Wales, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, died in 1282.
I watch the woman lean forward to pick up her handbag.
But she doesn’t pick up hers. Instead, she picks up Amelia’s.
My heart thuds.
Growing up in the council estate, I had to learn to live on my wits. To read subtle changes in body language to detect when a threat was coming. To trust my gut instinct.
And my gut is churning right now. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.
The woman puts Amelia’s handbag onto her lap as another random fact enters my head.
The only people exempt from security screening are the royal family.
I flick a glance at Callum. The sun has chosen this moment to peek through the clouds, and a sliver of sunlight engulfs him, glinting off his crown.
Uneasy is the head that wears the crown.
What the hell can I do? I can’t accost a potentially innocent woman for simply holding a handbag on her lap.
My pulse speeds up.
On the dais, the formalities seem to be over, and there’s a flurry of movement I see out of the corner of my eye. Callum and Queen Katharine are moving towards the side of the dais.
But my gaze stays glued on the woman.
She unzips Amelia’s handbag, and her controlled, furtive movements cause my stomach to coil.
She reaches into her handbag.
My breath hitches, my heart hammering.
She pulls out a gun.
Oh, holy fuck.
Adrenaline shoots through me. I’m on my feet in an instant.
“Gun!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “She’s got a gun!”
And then I’m running, running. Running as fast as I can move.
Running towards the dais, towards Callum.
My heart is in my throat, my breath coming in frantic gasps.
