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He raised his hand to the solid wood fo the door and rapped gently with his knuckles.
There was no answer.
Armin could feel the silence even from the hallway, but just in case, he opened the door and looked inside.
It was odd, to find so many spaces without them. Katie hadn’t asked him about a trip outside the castle grounds and a little frisson of unease trickled down the back of his neck.
She hadn’t asked, but maybe some plan had come to her at the last moment, and given the new trust they’d built up, maybe she’d decided to take matters into her own hands without checking with him.
He stepped further inside the suite and opened a small closet to the right of the door.
Katie’s purse wasn’t there.
Armin strolled over to her desk, which was cluttered with notepads and papers. She might have left a note, maybe. Or a receipt for tickets to some venue…
But no.
Instead, his eyes tracked over the notepad on the top.
It contained a very detailed list of everything he’d—and they’d—done in the past several days.
He let his fingertips drag down the surface of the paper as his stomach twisted.
It wasn’t notes to remember a schedule. It was the most personal, minute details of what they’d discussed. What they’d eaten. Things he’d laughed at.
Armin swallowed down a wave of bitter betrayal.
He should have known.
Even as his mind worked overtime to provide an excuse, it couldn’t argue with the fact of the words on the page. This was just too much to be casual.
Most damning of all—a scribbled phrase written more lightly than the rest, as if she hadn’t truly wanted to do it but had done it anyway. Trade for more time?
Trade who for more time? What exactly was she doing, out there with all this information? His face went hot, then cold again. His information…and information about the princes.
Who the hell was Katie working with?
Armin turned away from the table, disgusted. The hurt knifed through his gut. He should have seen. He should have known.
He stalked from the room, shutting the door quietly behind him, hoping furiously he’d catch her in the hallway. But no one met him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
I’m a prince, he thought. I was always a prince, and I never should have lost sight of that. Armin had always known that it was essential to protect the family, the monarchy, at all costs. Even if it cost him love.
He’d only hoped that she’d been different.
Armin gritted his teeth. Back to his office. He’d go back to his office first, and regroup. Was it worth questioning her? Was it worth…anything at all?
Natalia met him in the hallway. “Prince Armin—I thought you were on your way to the ceremony.”
Yes. The ceremony. The orphanage. The thing he’d been working toward all this time.
“Of course. Have you called the car?” His voice sounded flat and harsh.
Natalia cocked her head to the side. “Yes. It’s waiting in the back.”
“Thank you.”
He turned and went, that knife still twisting in his gut.
