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Authors: Rachelle McCalla

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“‘I will gather you from the nations and bring you back from the countries where you have
been scattered,’” she quoted the passage from Ezekiel under her breath.

Levi leaned close. “‘I will give you back the land again.’” He gave her a meaningful look as they were seated, and though she knew the words were a promise from the Lord, she realized they were Levi’s promise, too. God had worked through Levi to keep her safe and was still working through him to return the nation of Lydia
to the descendents of Lydia. She had much to thank him for.

Soon the president, one of the fifteen members of the Council who, as Isabelle understood it, rotated through the role on a month-by-month schedule, opened the meeting with thanks to the other members for meeting on such a compressed timeline. Besides the fifteen members, the room was filled with aides, and Isabelle recognized the officials
from Lydia who represented their tiny nation in the UN.

Isabelle listened in fascination as the meeting began. As Levi predicted, the members were eager to hear her side of the story, including how she’d survived the initial attack.

As Isabelle recounted the events, trying to keep everything in order as it had happened in spite of the blurring effect of the near-sleepless adventure, she found
herself giving credit to Levi time and again. Well, it was really no surprise. He’d saved her life. Dramatically. Repeatedly. Appreciation welled in her heart as she spoke.

When she reached the part in her story about reading Valli’s emails, murmuring spread through the crowd. She hadn’t bothered to include all the lengthy and confusing details of Sergio passing them the key and the password
written on it. She’d been invited into Valli’s household. Did she need a warrant to procure the evidence she’d gathered? Not in Lydia, not given the circumstances. But would the Council interpret things that way?

After she’d told her story, deliberations began in earnest. She kept hearing the phrases “act of aggression,” and “threat to peace.” The words gave her hope. From what Levi had explained
to her, Isabelle understood that if the council agreed that the insurgents had committed an act of aggression that threatened the peace both in her nation and the surrounding nations, then they could be moved to intervene.

As the representatives discussed her testimony, Isabelle got the impression that several of them were sympathetic toward her family after all that had happened. The next question
surprised her.

“Princess Isabelle, how do you wish us to proceed?”

She felt her eyes widen, and her poor tired mind was so stuck in shock she couldn’t think of anything to say for a moment. When she glanced at Levi, he winked at her.

That sent a charge through her system. “I would like Stephanos Valli removed from his position and investigated
further. Also, Tyrone Spiteri.” She’d explained
to them the emails, and the plot regarding the baby. State record would prove the previous assault charges, which he had finagled his way out of with minimum charges. “He should be investigated and held.”

Heads nodded solemnly around the circle. “And what about the crown?”

“I suppose that’s up to Parliament.” Isabelle felt emotion welling up, and she fought to keep her voice steady. “Could you
please ask them to put off crowning anyone until they’ve made a thorough and diligent search for my father?”

The president of the Council nodded solemnly. “We will break for lunch and discuss the details of carrying out your requests this afternoon.” His attention turned to Isabelle. “Your Majesty, from what I understand from your story, you have not had a chance to sleep in some time. Might
I recommend you get some rest? We will try to have your world back on its way to being right by the time you awake.”

The tears she’d tried so hard to suppress throughout her testimony now flowed in silent trails down her cheeks. “Thank you.”

Isabelle awoke and glanced at the clock. Shortly after midnight. She could have rolled over and slept through till morning, but she was far too curious
to learn what had happened since she’d returned to Sanctuary headquarters.

Slipping on clothes from among the things Sanctuary had provided for her, she headed down the hallway to Levi’s office. As she might have expected, the halls were void of activity. Though there were surely people still working somewhere in the building, they were behind closed doors.

The door to Levi’s office was open
and a barrister lamp glowed at his desk. Isabelle rapped on the door and Levi’s head popped up from behind the dark computer screen.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized as he rubbed weariness from his eyes. “I didn’t see you sleeping there.”

“I’m not supposed to be sleeping.” He stood and circled around the desk, gesturing for her to have a seat. He took a chair that sat at an angle to hers. “I was
trying to take care of a few things, but sleep caught up to me.”

“You need your rest.”

“Not as badly as I need to keep you safe.”

His voice creaked with care, and Isabelle felt his sincerity steal her breath. In spite of the tired lines that cradled his eyes and the stubble that had returned to his chin, the man was handsome. Isabelle realized she seen him in all manner of facial hair configurations.
They were like an old married couple.

The thought goaded her. She hadn’t come looking for him so she could dream about a future that wasn’t to be. She’d come to learn the future of her country.

“What did the Council decide?”

“The United Nations has asked Valli to voluntarily return to the United States for questioning. He’s on his way to New York now. They’ve issued an apology for his actions.
Everyone is hoping that with Valli out of the picture, if your family members are in hiding somewhere, they’ll feel safe enough to make their survival public.”

Relief coursed through her, tempered with a strong dose of reality. “I fear Valli may be just the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t doubt you’re correct. We’ll need to you finish translating those emails at some point.”

“I could work on
that now.”

“No. I need you to pack. We’re sending you to a safe house.”

“A safe house? Are you coming with me?”

“No. There are too many things for me to do here, and
you’ll have a rotating team of guards. You don’t need me anymore.”

Isabelle felt his words hit her like a slamming door. Samantha had warned her. Levi just needed one high-profile, successful mission under his belt. Then he could
be president of Sanctuary after his father. He didn’t need her anymore.

She felt her heart start to tear away from the safe spot it had nestled into. “When will I see you again?”

“There is no further need for you to see me. Sanctuary will take care of your needs until the situation in Lydia has been resolved and it is safe for you to return there. The Council has already discussed the likelihood
of providing a peacekeeping team if necessary.”

Isabelle shook her head. The Council’s plans were wonderful—more than she’d hoped for, really—but one stark fact had stuck in her ribs and wouldn’t let go. “When can I tell you goodbye?”

“Now.” His face had turned cold and he’d stopped meeting her eyes, instead glancing back at his desk as though eager to get back to work. “You can pack a bag.
I’ll ring Samantha and she’ll escort you to the car. The guards have been assigned. We’ve all just been waiting for you to wake up.”

Isabelle rose from her chair and waited for Levi to rise from his. At the very least she wanted to hug him. He didn’t move. His face was turned toward the work on his desk. “Levi?”

“I have work to do.” He barely glanced her way and didn’t stand.

Emotion caught
in her throat, but Isabelle stifled her disappointment. She was a princess, after all. She wasn’t going to beg Levi to hug her goodbye. Her voice wavered only slightly. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget you.”

His face was still pointed away from hers, but she saw
his jaw twitch. Was he angry with her? Impatient? She had thought she’d learned to read him, but now
she felt at a loss.

He swept one hand down his weary face and nodded. “Goodbye.”

So that was it then. She’d been dismissed. Isabelle knew too well how visits worked. It wasn’t her place to linger.

“Goodbye.” She closed the door behind her as she left.

THIRTEEN

L
evi fumbled with a pencil and snapped it in half.

He couldn’t catch his breath. Pushing his chair back, he raised his arms over his head and stretched, trying to force wakefulness into his exhausted body, to ease the tight pain in his chest, to convince himself that their parting hadn’t been awkward.

But who was he kidding? She’d been going to embrace him, and he couldn’t let her.
He could hardly work up the voice to speak without betraying his emotions. If he’d gotten his arms around her again there would have been no letting go, not without confessing everything he felt.

And where could they possibly go from there? Even if she returned his feelings, which by rights she shouldn’t, because they’d only just met and the world knew she could do far better than a workaholic,
underpaid, nonprofit international lawyer—even if she felt something toward him, what could possibly come of it?

She was a princess and likely soon to be queen. He lived half a world away, on the verge of finally inheriting the post he’d worked his whole life to fill. No, confessing how he felt would only make things worse.

So why did he feel like scum for not telling her he loved her? There
was nothing to be gained by it. Nothing but heartache.

He turned from his desk and headed to bed.

That’s what he’d do. He’d sleep it off. Maybe once he was fully rested he could convince himself he was making the right decision.

Besides, he was going to need his sleep. Once Valli was brought in, Levi was going to be a part of the initial interrogation team. He needed to find out once and for
all who had been behind the attacks on the royal family. And then he was going to do everything in his power to bring those parties to justice.

Maybe he couldn’t tell Isabelle that he loved her, but at least he could keep her safe and give her back the throne of her people.

It was raining. Water streamed in fat rivulets down the windows of the SUV from a gray sky. Dawn had broken some time before,
but the clouds obscured the sun.

Isabelle tried to tell herself she was glad. Her enemies were being brought to justice. She was headed somewhere safe—near Buffalo—where she could rest up and maybe form a plan for locating her missing family members. Her heart burned inside her as she thought about her brother and sister and their parents. She believed they had to be alive somewhere. That faith
kept her going. For the first time in three days, things were starting to look up.

Isabelle felt miserable.

She would have liked to settle back and rest, but she’d been stuffed in the backseat between Samantha and a bodyguard, with two more beefy guards occupying the front bucket seats. She didn’t even feel as though she were free to cry, but the sky seemed to be doing enough of that for her.

The thought tilted a small smile at the corner of her mouth,
and she felt the peaceful hand of God holding her, crying for her when she was too drained to weep for herself.

I will gather you from the nations and bring you back from the countries where you have been scattered, and I will give you back the land again.

The ancient words soothed her soul. God was faithful. He kept his promises.
Though the ambush had tested her faith, Isabelle felt secure in trusting that justice would win out in the end, even if the end was a long time coming.

Through the swishing wiper blades Isabelle could see road signs splashing bright green ahead. She knew enough about the geography of upstate New York to understand their route. They’d take I-81 to Syracuse, then turn west on I-90. It would have
been something like a seven hour drive, if it hadn’t been for the thick early-morning traffic. Samantha had already called back to Sanctuary to warn them they were running behind schedule.

Isabelle read the signs. I-81 would continue north and connect with I-90 East. They’d hop on 690 to connect with I-90 West.

The 690 exit slipped past.

Isabelle watched it go. She wished she had a map or something.
The driver wasn’t using GPS. She shifted uncomfortably. I-90 East loomed ahead of them.

The wrong exit.

The wrong way.

The driver steered them into the lane for I-90 East.

Isabelle cleared her throat. “Aren’t we supposed to be headed west?”

“Just taking a little detour.” The driver didn’t take his eyes off the road.

The guard beside her must have felt uncomfortable, too. “Levi said no detours.
No stops until Buffalo, except to get gas, which we already did.”

“I need to use the facilities.” The driver’s voice was harsh.

The guard in the front passenger seat shook his head. “You should have gone when we bought gas. You knew the instructions. Besides, you should have taken 690 to I-90 West. It’s way back there.”

Samantha cleared her throat. “Look, boys, there’s been a little change
of plans. Trust your driver. He knows what he’s doing. Don’t you all want to stay safe?”

“But the safe house is—” the front seat guard started to turn his head.

“Don’t move,” Samantha barked.

“Please don’t move,” Isabelle echoed, her eyes following the object in Samantha’s hand. “She’s got a gun.”

“That’s right.” Samantha’s eyes glittered. “And I’m not afraid to use it. So we’re just going
to take our little detour and you two are going to keep your mouths shut, or I’ll shut them for you.”

Isabelle didn’t dare make eye contact with either of the two innocent guards. She didn’t even know their names, but if they tried to do anything to save her, they’d probably be shot.

It hardly seemed fair.

It wasn’t fair that Samantha had the only gun, either. The agent and the driver were
apparently confederates, which left Isabelle with two guards who just might be on her side. Three against two. The odds were almost in her favor—if it hadn’t been for Samantha’s gun and the fact that the SUV was now headed in the wrong direction, to an unknown destination where Levi wouldn’t be able to find her. And there was no saying how outnumbered she’d be once they arrived.

Levi was briefed
by two men from the team who’d escorted Valli in.

“He’s eager to cooperate. He’ll give us evidence against Spiteri if it means we’ll go easy on him.”

It fit with what Levi knew of the man. Ruthless
and
spineless. A useful combination, at least for today. “What’s the status on Tyrone Spiteri?”

The two exchanged glances. Levi got a bad feeling.

“The United States doesn’t have any authority over
him,” one of the men admitted slowly. “I think they’re watching him.”


Watching
might not be entirely accurate,” the other corrected. “He’s—ah—”

“Missing?” Levi filled in for them.

They nodded, apology written across their faces. “But there’s a UN peacekeeping team on the ground working with the Lydian Parliament. I think they’re trying to locate him.”

The other man held up a photograph. “Also,
we’ve intercepted this. Not sure exactly where it was taken. Someone’s cell phone camera. It will likely go viral.”

Levi squinted at the grainy image. There was no mistaking the face in question, though Levi had himself been mistaken for the man a few days before. “Prince Alexander? Isabelle’s brother?”

The man nodded. “You’ll note he appears injured.” He pointed to reddish streaks on the man’s
face. “That would be consistent with surviving the attack.”

For a moment, Levi considered forwarding the photograph to Isabelle. She’d want to know right away if her brother was alive.

Just then a man came to the door. “We’re ready.”

“Coming.” The picture could wait. With Spiteri at large, Valli’s testimony was more important than ever. If he could give them information that would give them
the authority to capture Spiteri, all the better. Until Spiteri was behind bars, Levi wouldn’t rest—because Isabelle wouldn’t be safe until Spiteri had been put away for good.

All too soon, Isabelle suspected where they were heading. The Adirondacks. She felt a churning in her gut. No! They couldn’t be headed to Tyrone Spiteri’s place, could they?

But why else would Samantha have a gun? If Samantha
was on her side, wouldn’t she have simply explained to Isabelle the change in plans? The only possible reason she hadn’t was because she couldn’t—because she knew Isabelle wouldn’t consent to going along then.

One thing was certain: Isabelle couldn’t let them reach Spiteri’s country estate. Something told her she’d never get out of there alive.

She thought about her phone, which was still in
her purse. Was there any way she could call for help? But it would take too long to explain the situation to the state police, even if they were aware of the situation in Lydia.

No, she needed someone who’d understand right away what was needed. Someone she could be certain would follow through on her cry for help.

She needed Levi.

“I thought we were stopping for the facilities,” Isabelle said
in an innocent voice.

“He was lying,” Samantha snarled beside her.

“But I really need to use the facilities.” Play dumb, play dumb.

“You went before we left,” Samantha reminded her, but she didn’t sound quite so convinced herself. Isabelle had seen the woman drinking coffee earlier. She might not be the only one who would appreciate a pit stop.

“You can come with and bring your gun,” Isabelle
offered. “I promise not to run away.”

Samantha’s lips pressed together in a thin line. She was considering it.

“Fine. Let’s pull over at the next available stop.” Samantha
turned the barrel of the gun toward Isabelle. “But you’re not leaving my sight.”

Fortunately the restroom had several stalls. Samantha insisted on taking the stall right next to Isabelle’s. She had her gun out of sight but
had made it clear she could use it on a second’s notice.

Isabelle pulled her phone from her purse. As far as she knew, Samantha was unaware she had it. Fortunately, she’d insisted on entering Levi’s new number for the phone that replaced the one the soldiers had taken when he’d been captured at the Embassy.

Knowing she’d have only seconds to compose her plea for help, she typed quickly. help
sam is dirt

“Let’s go!” Samantha shouted.

Isabelle flushed and sent the message. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do. She’d meant to say Sam was dirty, but she didn’t have time to add the “Y” or any further explanation—like where she suspected they might be headed. But Levi needed to know he couldn’t trust Samantha. Beyond that, he was on his own to find her—if he could.

Now she’d just
have to pray Levi saw the message soon.

Valli was talking in circles. Levi wondered what the man was trying to do—other than irritating his interrogators, of which he was doing a fine job. It was almost as though the man was stalling. But what could he possibly stand to gain that was more important to him at this point than cooperating for a reduced sentence?

“What do you know about Tyrone Spiteri’s
involvement in the plot to kill the royal family?” Levi asked, deciding to take a step back and broaden the line of questioning.

“Spiteri wasn’t involved in the plot to kill the royal family.”

Levi froze. He’d read the emails Isabelle had translated. Spiteri had wanted the royal family dead. And Valli had instructed the generals to make sure that happened—even to the point of having Alfred kill
Isabelle if the missiles didn’t take care of it.

Was Valli stupid enough to lie under oath? No, he was a weasel and a rat, but he wasn’t stupid.

“But Spiteri was poised to benefit if the royal family died.”

“To a point.”

Levi wanted to reach across and shake Stephanos Valli’s head. The man was being painfully obtuse. “Spiteri was poised to benefit if every member of the royal family died,
with the exception of Princess Isabelle.”

“Yes.”

“So the plot to kill the royal family wasn’t engineered by Spiteri, although he was aware of it.”

“Yes.”

“Spiteri wanted Isabelle alive.”

“Yes.”

That explained why the men who’d been after them hadn’t simply shot them on sight. Spiteri had instructed them to bring Isabelle to him. Levi’s stomach plummeted. “Where is Tyrone Spiteri now?”

“I don’t know.”

The man gave him a look that sent chills up Levi’s spine. Where
was
Spiteri? What was he doing? And what would he do if he got his hands on Isabelle?

Something vibrated softly near his leg. It took Levi a moment to pull his thoughts from the line of questioning and realize the unfamiliar sensation was caused by his new phone.

He pulled it out.

One new message.

Levi clicked
view.

help sam is dirt

Fear shot through to his heart. It took him a moment to recognize the number. Isabelle’s phone? Was she not getting along with Samantha? Or was something bigger going on?

Spiteri was talking more about the generals. Levi would have loved to stay to hear it, but he feared he might not have time. “Excuse me.” He ducked out of the room, phone still in hand and punched in
her number.

His finger froze above the send button. There was that still, small voice nudging him to stop.

But why? It didn’t make any sense. He needed to call Isabelle and make sure she was okay. His finger wavered above the button.

Then he snapped his phone closed. Right. If she was in trouble and he called her, he might get her in more trouble. All someone would need to do was look at her
phone and they’d find she’d sent him a message. And if she really did need help—if Samantha really was dirt, as the message implied—then giving away what she’d done would ruin the only advantage she had.

Instead, Levi opened the phone and called his father. “Has Isabelle’s car reached the safe house yet?”

“No. Samantha called earlier to report they were delayed in traffic.”

“Has Spiteri been
located?”

“No one can seem to find him.” Nicolas Grenaldo paused. “Is everything all right?”

“How well do we know Samantha Klein?”

“She’s worked for us for years.”

“Yeah, and Alfred was Isabelle’s bodyguard for four years.” Levi hurried toward the door. He needed to move quickly. Isabelle was in trouble. And Tyrone Spiteri was still
at large. “I need a helicopter and armed men. Call the state
police.”

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