Exile (Book #2 Royale Series)

Chapter 5: Sleeping With the Enemy

         

Ashley

My eyes scan the files on the desk before me. Thousands and thousands of records of every single girl who attended the Craven Home for Girls twenty-two years ago are scattered in front of me, and yet, there is not a single iota of information on Ceanna Kingston. I've gathered hospital records, birth certificates, even death certificates. Though only three months ago, I'd seen her standing before my very eyes. She was every bit the evil, heartless, and brutal witch one would expect the leader of a rebellion to be.

And still I had nothing.

There is not a single trace of Ceanna Kingston having ever been born.

The only lead I could have possibly had was from the headmistress of the Craven Home for Girls, but upon attempting to track her down and bring her in for questioning as the king requested, I'd learned that she relieved herself from her position at the orphanage and had vanished. So not only had I failed in finding anything of pertinence, or rather, anything at all about Ceanna Kingston, I could not even bring the headmistress to the king as I was ordered. After all day of searching through files and calling numbers, I had achieved nothing.

"Dios maldita sea. Maldito este miserable rebelde y esta miserable guerra!" My frustration boils over and I push the files off the desk, leaving them scattered across the library floor.

My face falls in my hands.

"Perhaps you should take a break, Miss Cortez," a smooth, silky voice says. Quiet, as if afraid if he pushes too hard, I will break.

Lucian stands at the door of the library with a steaming mug in his hand and a folder in the other. Concern etches across his face, no doubt at the string of curses I delivered in Spanish. And, I am certain that it could only be a trick of the light, but I am almost sure that it is a blush that I see painting his cheeks red.

Nonsense. The captain of the Isolian Guard does not blush.

The light bounces off his brown curls, and his dark skin shines golden at the illumination in the room. His eyes are soft and comforting, despite his powerful position in the Isolian Court.

"I can't take a break. His Majesty asked me for information on Ceanna Kingston. I met the pendeja myself. There must be something on her. She isn't a god damned ghost."

"You have done the best that you can do. Surely King Aspen will understand," Lucian says, but his words do nothing to assuage my frustration.

"Do you honestly believe that? Have you not been around him lately? It's like he's lost all touch with humanity. All he ever thinks about or talks about is this war. He's always planning the next move. And sure, that may be beneficial to the war effort, but what about him? I think he's falling apart, Lucian. I'm worried."

Lucian considers me. His face softens.

"May I come in?" he asks.

I can't help my snort. "It's a library, Lucian. You don't need my permission."

He smiles and walks over to the desk. His eyebrows pinch together.

"You're bleeding," he says.

I look down at my hands. Surely enough, a large paper cut is etched on my finger and blood drips on the wooden desk.

"Maybe shoving entire stacks of documents on the floor at once wasn't my brightest moment," I tell him, jokingly.

Lucian shifts behind the desk and rummages through the drawers. After only a moment, he pulls out a miniature first-aid kit.