Sasha had hoped to get something from West after she revealed a part of her past, but she did not expect him to reveal such secret with so much ease. As if he had not been hiding it at all.

Could he be lying?

Could it be that he was manipulating her? If so, for what? If she believed him and think that the current monarchy had a good reason to want his sister dead, then she would make more effort to help him find his sister—so he could save her.

She looked at him, wide-eyed. But surely, he could not be lying?

If she took his words, then Sasha had more things to think about.

Could it be that the prince was also looking for the bastard of his father? To hide her? Kill her? Because her very existence could ruin the king. Was this the prince's ultimate purpose—stop West from finding his sister by finding her first?

But the prince had a special relationship with Belcourt.

Didn't Belcourt know?

Or was Belcourt playing the same game?

"You seem surprised. I had assumed you would have already guessed."

He said it so nonchalantly, so naturally, making her unsure whether to believe him or not.

But now was not the time to think hard. She would think about that later when he was no longer there to distract her.

"I am not that wise," she finally replied with a subtle wink. And in a more serious tone, added, "I assumed Reginald."

"Then you assumed wrong. My mother, as my father claimed, was too faithful to Belcourt. She would never have associated herself with Reginald."

Sasha inspected his expression. "Do you abhor the current monarchy?"

It took him a while to answer. "No, I do not think so."

"You do not? Surely, you have suffered because of what your father did and those loyal to the current monarchy must have made it certain that you did."

"My father did what he did for the previous monarchy. I am still a duke, am I not? I was—we—were never stripped of everything considering who my father served or what he did for Reginald during his reign."

She leaned away from the table and pulled her legs up to hug them and rested her chin on her knees. "I wonder how you have suffered. It must have been quite difficult."

He shook his head. "I was... sheltered. I was rich—still am." He smiled. "But I do admit it has been a struggle."

"You rebuilt your father's name."

"No, of course not. He is still very much hated even in his grave." With a shrug, he added, "I built my own name."

Her smile widened. "Can you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Of your childhood. The happy ones."

His brows fused together in a frown. "I cannot precisely point out a point in my life where I was happy, Sasha. Happiness is for those who have nothing else."

A shiver ran up her spine. "Then you are saying you are content?"

"If I am, I would not be here with you at this hour."

She flushed. "That is not what I meant."

West chuckled as he shook his head. "I do not know what you are asking, Sasha. Happiness has never been truly a goal."

"Many would disagree."

"Perhaps."

"You never felt happy with your friends? Your father?"

"With my friends, perhaps I find myself enjoying if they do not make things difficult. My father was a different matter."

"I am glad you had friends—that you have friends."

He nodded, twisting his wineglass on the table with his hand. "When I was fresh from boarding school, a few young men grabbed me from behind."

Her chin lifted from where it sat. "Why?"

"My father, of course. Their fathers were enemies of mine, I assumed at that time."

"Did you fight them off?"

"I could have never," he said with a ridiculous laugh. "They beat me and then tied me to the back of a parked carriage."

"They did not!"

He nodded. "I was gagged so I could not cry for help. It was a dark alleyway. The owner of the carriage had not yet returned."

"Then how did you escape?"

His eyes were gentle and so was his smile. "Darren."

Her brows arched high. "Darren found you?"

"He unstrapped me from the carriage. He was eight and I was fifteen."

"And he stayed with you since then."

He sighed. "Unfortunately."

Sasha chuckled.

"The bastard would always claim I saved him because I picked him out of the streets," he said with amusement, "but it was he who saved me, not I." He stood up and approached her, steps light and easy. "Now, enough about Darren."

Sasha laughed as he pulled at her hand, nearly causing her to fall off the chair, but fast enough to catch her when she jumped to wrap her arms around him as she landed on the floor. "I did not even mention your valet, sir. You did."

His mouth dragged down her neck. "I did?"

"Yes."

"Then I must be insane. Why would I tell you about my valet?"

His hand tugged at her robe—his robe. Arms wormed around her waist and hips.

"Should I tell you how we found Seven?" he murmured hotly against her ear.

Sasha stepped closer. "Later." His mouth found hers. "Or perhaps tomorrow."

*****

The Royal Theater was the biggest of its kind all over Sutherland. With its capability to entertain two-thousand guests with the most fascinating shows, it was flocked by many.

"Are you certain we should be up here?" Sasha asked, looking down the lower box from up high.

"Yes, of course," Ruby replied with a wink. "Our dear benefactor was kind enough to grant us the luxury. Do not complain, darling, he did it for you."

Sasha blinked. "Who?"

"I assume your other flower is also capable of getting you and your friends an upper box?" West's voice asked behind them.

Sasha turned in surprise. He was not looking angry, rather he was looking quite dashing tonight.

His wavy brown hair was combed neatly over his forehead, his suit—as always—spoke of his status. He was sitting right behind her, hidden away from the view of the many guests below them, save for the others in the upper boxes across if they were curious enough.

"Why—" she turned to Ruby. "Why did he give you the tickets instead of giving them to me?"

Her friend lifted one shoulder. "He figured you would not have received it."

"He is right," she said, throwing West another look. "I would not have." She began to stand, but West stopped her, taking her hand.

"Now, this is not too bad, Sasha," Jade chided with a smile.

She returned to her seat, not because that was what he wanted, but to prevent catching anyone's attention. "We are no longer in Humbrick, sir," she hissed over her shoulder.

He did not reply. She veered her eyes toward him. He just sat there, looking straight at the stage. As if she was not there. He began to stand up. "Relax, Sasha, I am not sharing the same box. I will be next door."

"He is such a dear," said Ruby with a giggle. "He should have opted to be a hidden flower if he cannot be seen with you."

Sasha sighed, turning her head to the stage.

She did not want to think of West for now. He could do whatever he wanted, even ruin his own reputation.

At the moment, she was going to watch the opera. He did pay for it, after all. It would be a shame to go home now simply because she disagreed with how she got there.

The first part of the opera was fine, and Sasha was hoping it would get better by the second act. During intermission, the three of them stretched their legs outside their box where drinks were served to the guests as they socialized with those from the other boxes.

Sasha felt West's presence behind her while she stood by herself in one corner waiting for Ruby and Jade who were being entertained by another gentleman of Belcourt. They motioned for her to come and join them, but West stepped closer and whispered, "That is the son of the owner of the Royal Theater."

"Truly?" she asked, feigning interest.

"A sad bloke, really."

"I see," she murmured with a secret smile.

"He can be very boring."

"I will have to see then," she said, making an attempt to move forward. He caught her by her waist, pulling her further away from the crowd.

"Stop teasing me, Sasha."

"I am not teasing you."

"You are."

"How?" She looked around, concerned that they may be seen. But the corridor was too crowded and nearly half of the people who packed it were the same ones in Humbrick.

"By making me jealous."

Sasha frowned. "Why, is it working?"

"No."

Sasha hid a smile and remained where she was standing.

"How is the show?" he asked.

"I am yet to say I enjoy it. Do expect an opinion after the second act and—" Sasha did not finish her statement as she saw a familiar figure slicing through the crowd. Her red hair did not stand out amongst the feathered heads all over the place, but the way she stealthily moved through the guests was enough to make Sasha recognize her. "Excuse me," she said, leaving West to follow Gabrielle.

Her eyes on the woman, she squeezed through the sea of lords and ladies talking about the first act. Her heart beating, Sasha managed to come near. Then she noticed that Gabrielle was looking about like she typically did. She hid behind a column and watched. Gabrielle was dressed in a green gown that matched the ones around her in style.

The woman was here for something and it was obvious it was not because of Sasha.

Intent to find out, Sasha followed Gabrielle further down the corridor. When the woman turned, Sasha was in pursuit, but a hand caught her arm and held her back. She looked back and found West frowning down at her. "Where are you going?"

"I was—" she turned and found Gabrielle gone. Pushing West's hand off her arm, she walked further away then stopped.

Gabrielle was nowhere in sight.

"What was that about, Sasha?" West asked.

She shook her head and walked past him. "Nothing. I thought I saw another Belle..."

He followed her back to their box which was still empty and settled behind her.

"They may see us alone in here, sir. It may be best that you return outside."

"My feet are sore. I wish to sit."

"Then return to your box."

"I also paid for this box.'

With a sigh, Sasha waited for the next act.

*****

Barely in the middle of the second act, Sasha found herself totally bored. The singing was like a lullaby, mesmerizing her to sleep. Losing interest at everything on the stage altogether, Sasha lifted her opera glasses and swerved it across the humongous theater.

She checked the lower box, searching for a redheaded lady. Narrowing her eyes, becoming more determined, she pointed her glasses to the left and started studying each box across from theirs.

Done, she swerved to the next box.

Then she froze.

Gabrielle.

She was looking through her glasses as well, but it was not directed at the stage. It was pointed at the general direction of the boxes that faced the stage.

Sasha followed Gabrielle's point of vision and searched.

It took her quite a while. Then she found it.

Him, rather.

Willoghby was just sitting there, at the back of the centermost box.

Frozen in her spot, Sasha felt her hand start to shake.

He was just sitting there as though he belonged there—as if he was free.

His attention was on the stage.

But then, slowly, he moved his head.

And then he was looking straight at her.