Dynasty | h.s

Twenty Eight

June 9

11:07 p.m

Eight minutes until go time.

Eight minutes until I'm due to sneak out of my bedroom and meet with Natalia and do the riskiest thing thus far. Tonight is finally the night that we plant the cameras around the palace and tracker devices on the cars.

I have eight minutes to collect all the different devices that I hid in various locations in my bedroom and put them back in the infamous black duffle bag.

The hope is that the halls of the castle will be vacant, making it effortless for Natalia and I to roam them like ghosts in the night. We are hoping to plant the cameras and GPS trackers without running into another living soul, especially since we have no buyable fable to tell whoever we may run into. It'll look suspicious no matter what. Hopefully waiting until fifteen past eleven will make this the easiest it can be.

I want to be in and out, no trace left behind.

In a moment like this, I feel like I should be wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood up, protecting my hair, and a pair of oversized sunglasses. I feel like I should be as undercovered as I can be. It's moments like these where I feel like a proper spy, the proper fly on the wall that I am destined to be. And it makes me giddy. It ignites the passion I have for this career field.

Yeah, working for the CIA isn't on the top of my list of places I want to be long-term, but this once in a lifetime experience has allowed me to see what it will be like working in the criminal justice field. I want to work more with the victims and help them get closure on wrongdoings, but doing international level work to keep multiple countries safe is pretty badass, too. It'll serve as great bragging rights one day.

After getting all the gear that is needed to complete the task at hand, I check the time on my phone. It's just about go time.

I swing the duffel bag over one of my shoulders lazily and I exit the room, making sure I have my keys on me so I can secure the door. I practically tiptoe down the corridor, trying to remember what floorboards creak and which ones don't.

To my knowledge, the palace is fairly empty right now. Harry isn't hidden away in his room right now, his whereabouts are unknown. Charles has seemingly been absent for days now. Blaire, however, is home and the last thing I want to do is disturb her.

I make it down to the foyer where Natalia waits slumped against the wall and her phone screen illuminating her face. There are a few dim lights on here and there, making it so you don't have to walk the halls blind as a bat, but they don't really do much.

"Do you have the stuff?" I question, sounding awfully peculiar without context.

The sudden sound of my voice must startle her as she flinches and snaps her attention to me with her infamous doe-eyes.

She's then quick to lock and pocket her phone and she nods her head. She bends down and that's when my eyes catch sight of the plastic shopping bag by her feet. That's enough to make the smile grow on my face. She held her end of the plan; get the GPS trackers.

"Perfect," I say in a hushed tone.

"You know," she whispers back, pushing herself fully off the wall, "I was thinking, and who's to say they don't have hidden cameras up already?"

In an instant, I freeze. It's a thought that has never crossed my mind before and it's a very real possibility. If the Royal Family is a part of some operation bigger than them, why wouldn't they have hidden cameras watching everyone's move?