She didn’t say Max’s name, reminding me that she was still bitter, and I wondered if it was ever jealousy after all, or if she’d known all along who he was. I thought of that night at Prey, when she’d flirted shamelessly with Claude and Zafir, and I wondered if it had all been just an act. A calculated way to gain their trust, to try to gather information. I suddenly wondered at Brooklynn’s choice in men, always leaning toward those in the military.

I didn’t bother asking her.

“We’re so close,” she explained. “To everything we’ve always wanted, to everything we’ve worked for.” Her eyes shimmered as she looked at me. “And you can give it to us, Charlie. You can change everything.”

I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears that I couldn’t explain . . . even to myself.

Brooklynn was wrong. I could accept that my father came from a royal bloodline, or at least I could no longer deny it. I’d seen the proof with my own eyes. I could even accept that that was the reason I could comprehend the other languages, that interpretation was my ability as a royal daughter.

But I wasn’t born to rule . . . I could never be a queen.

“Yes, Charlie,” Brook offered before I could voice my denial. She seized my hands, clasping them tightly in hers as she pressed them to her lips. “You must.”

I closed my eyes, hating that I would let her down, and not wanting to have this discussion right now. Not when I finally felt like I had her back.

Once we were back in the underground city, Xander took charge of the situation. “Brook, you take Angelina back to her chamber, so we can talk to Charlie alone.”

“But shouldn’t I be here—”

A fierce look flashed across Xander’s face, warning Brook not to argue; she’d been given an order.

“Leave her with Sydney,” I offered. “And then you can come back.”

Xander and Eden exchanged a meaningful glance. It occurred to me that Eden wore her moods the way others wore their garments; they hovered about her, invading the space wherever she went. At the moment, I could feel a heavy veil of reticence.

“Brooklynn, go,” Xander insisted, and he waited until she and Angelina were out of earshot before turning back to me. “Sydney’s not here, Charlie.”

“What do you mean, she’s not here? Where is she?”

“She was feeling better, so we sent an escort to take her home,” Xander explained.

“Aren’t you worried that she’ll tell someone about you? That she’ll turn you in?”

Xander just smiled, a patronizing smirk. “She won’t. She cares about you, Charlie. She’s grateful for what you did to help her. Besides, even if she did try to bring someone down here, she’d only get lost.”

I remembered the convoluted pathways we’d traveled, one passageway connecting to the next, twisting and turning. And then I thought about what Brooklynn had said, about how long they’d been down here—over a decade—completely unnoticed.

Yet it seemed a huge risk to take.

“We couldn’t keep her here forever, Charlie. She needed to go home to her family.” Xander’s voice was more reasonable now, less boastful.

And then I heard Max’s quiet voice behind me, his breath tickling the back of my neck. “I think maybe you liked having her follow you around like a puppy,” he teased, and I grinned at the absurd suggestion, elbowing him as inconspicuously as I could.

Unfortunately, there was nothing inconspicuous about the gesture. Everyone saw that single, simple action.

And all hell broke loose.

Within the span of a heartbeat, the two enormous Royal guards lunged toward me with deadly intent etched in their expressions. Before I could think or react—or even blink—Xander’s men had raised their weapons, and were aiming them directly at Claude and Zafir.

Xander came crashing into my side, wrapping himself around me to soften the blow as we hit the ground. Every ounce of breath burst from my lun J be Amy lun Jgs when we landed. And at the same time, from between Xander’s arms, I could see Max launch himself between me and his determined sentries.

“No!” he shouted, raising both of his hands, his voice hard, angry. “Stop! All of you!”

I gasped against Xander’s grip, struggling for breath, my head reeling. Xander’s arms loosened, but not by much.

“I mean it,” Max snarled, and I caught a glimpse of him turning in a circle to glare at the soldiers around him. Yet only Claude and Zafir obeyed their prince’s command, each halting where they stood.

No one else complied, and weapons remained readied.

“Are you all right?” Xander whispered against the top of my head.

Somehow I was able to nod, and when I did, I heard his voice rumbling from deep within his chest. “Stand down, soldiers.” I couldn’t see all of them, but I could hear the simultaneous withdrawal of both bodies and weapons. When Xander finally released me, lifting me to my feet, the look on his face was fierce.

Max reached for me, dragging me away from Xander and drawing me against his side, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist. There wasn’t a single person in that room I would’ve traded places with, including Eden, who had shouldered her rifle as well.

When Xander spoke to his soldiers, his voice was deceptively composed. But there was a fury coiled below the surface as he turned on his own. He was a snake, ready to strike as he moved with dangerous precision around the small space. “You raise your weapons without my order? Do you have any idea the damage you could have done? The danger you put our guest in?” I knew he was talking about me; everyone in the room knew it.