Page 221
“You don’t want Crown Prince Anik to know you’re alive.”
His face changed. Barely. Enough.
My anger turned cold.
“Oh my God.”
“Talia.”
“No.”
I backed away from him. “You have been telling me royal contact was dangerous for me.”
“It is.”
“The packet says it is.”
“Yes.”
“That packet also says I stole data before I stole it.”
His expression tightened.
I pointed toward the screen. “You proved that file was manufactured.”
“Yes.”
“So why is this one instruction the part you still obey?”
Silence.
There was no operational answer that survived the question.
My chest hurt. That was worse than anger.
“Because you wanted it to be true.”
His eyes hardened. “No.”
“Yes.”
“You are wrong,” he said quietly.
“Then take me to the Crown Prince.”
The words landed between us.
Simple.
Clear.
For the first time since this started, I knew exactly what I was asking.
Not maybe someday.
Not if we have no other option.
Take me to the Crown Prince.
