A woman dressed in emerald green stepped into the room. She was young and beautiful, her hair red and adorned with studs of glinting stones. Gabrielle had seen her earlier in the ballroom, but she was just one of the many vague faces there. One of the maybe—maybe a traitor, a friend, an innocent.

When she spoke, the voice was deep but still quite feminine, echoing around the dimly lit room. "My name is Philippa Vandenberg. We're cousins." There was a certain confidence about her which made Gabrielle curious. Why was this woman out here and not in Belcourt? She seemed strong and confident. Must have been trained to be so. So why—if they could make such strong and confident Vandenbergs outside Belcourt—did they put her inside? Why not this woman?

"You are not the chatty kind," Philippa said with a smile. "But of course, you're a Soldier. Aunt Theodora told me a lot about you. The family is very proud." With a gentle, reassuring tilt of her head, she continued, "Would you join me to your room?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course, Gabrielle, you do." And something about Philippa's smile changed. Her mouth pursed just the tiniest bit, the fondness in her eyes, albeit small, changed into a hard look. "But would you deprive your family of a reunion? We have all wanted to see you for so long." She waited until Gabrielle reluctantly followed.

She did not say another word as they walked out of the room, down the corridors and into the hall where they stopped just behind three gentlemen facing Ellise St. Vincent, Robert Dior, and Rider Fairborne. Philippa's shoulders pulled back, head held high as she and Gabrielle waited behind the three Vandenbergs. Not long after, a group of men approached from the opposite wing. Royals led by another, and they too stopped behind Ellise and the others.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Robert Dior said to the three Vandenbergs before them. "The Circus appreciates the peaceful exchange."

One of the Vandenberg men nodded. "We look forward to a peaceful rest of the evening." And they moved, walking forward. Philippa motioned for Gabrielle to follow, and she did. The Royals were doing the same, walking in the opposite direction. When their paths crossed, Ellise St. Vincent and Robert Dior had their eyes ahead of them. Rider, however, caught her gaze. The three other Royals behind them did the same, but only fleetingly.

Once they were safe in the opposite wing and the Royals were out of sight, one of the three Vandenberg men said over his shoulder, "Take care of her," addressing Philippa.

Philippa paused and bowed her head slightly until the three men disappeared into another corridor without sparing Gabrielle a glance. None of them ever did.

"Cousins," Philippa groaned, rolling her eyes. "Not the best ones, but they do the job well. Come on, you must be tired."

How many Vandenbergs were there? She knew only of a few her brother told her about. After a series of turns, Philippa ushered her inside a room. "Please rest well," her cousin said. "Your mother will come for you soon."

It was weird, the word mother. She did not have one in Belcourt, although she knew she had someone outside. When she was a child, she remembered thinking her mother would come for her after hearing the other children—at least those who could remember—talk about their mothers. But that never happened and the hope quickly disappeared. To hear that she would come for her soon here brought a strange feeling. A fear of being disappointed; a knowing that it would not happen; and confusion as to why she would even come at all.

"There's food on the table in case you're hungry," Philippa said, gracefully motioning her hand toward the small round table. "There are also fresh dresses for you." She waited for Gabrielle to say something and just smiled when she remained quiet. "I'll see you tomorrow."

When she reached the door, Gabrielle asked, "Where will you take me after this?"

Philippa sighed. "I don't know, Gabrielle, and that's the truth. I was just tasked to take you here." She motioned with her hand. "Your mother will tell you what you need to know by the morrow."

She just nodded.

Your mother will tell you what you need to know...

The door closed behind Philippa. And the lock came next.

Your mother will tell you what you need to know...

Alone now, with the faint glow of the candles in the room, Gabrielle looked up at the ceiling, then the walls, then the windows. She considered her options before she walked to the door and tried the knob. It was locked, of course, but one thing most people thought about doors in an enormous mansion like this one was that they had many vulnerable points. And one thing the Vandenbergs should know was that Soldiers were trained to work on all kinds of doors. Not just locks, but doors, Gabrielle thought as she rattled hers, eyeing the three hinges that held it in place.

*****

Robert and Ellise entered their bedchamber, welcoming the silence that followed. The Royals were all preparing to depart at midnight as planned, the ship waiting near the eastern shoreline.

"What if she doesn't show up?" he wondered, massaging Ellise's stiff shoulders.

"I think we gave her a better impression than her terrible family did tonight," she answered with a smile. "Did you notice their blank stares earlier?"

"Of course," he said, planting a kiss on her neck. "Reminded me of you."

She snorted and faced him, wrapping an arm around his neck. "If she comes tonight, this will be my last mission for the Circus." He narrowed his eyes, doubtful. "I'm utterly serious. I'll be Darcy and work in the background. Blackwood can do all the work."

"What do you mean by this mission? Whisking her out of here, or joining her and the other Soldiers?"

"The latter, of course—"

"No," he sternly said. "You are not putting yourself out there to fight against Napoleon's soldiers with Belcourt's soldiers. There will be enough Royals to join them."

"That's not what I want—"

"What you want is not what a Darcy should be doing." He stepped back, away from her hold. "You're carrying our child."

Her jaw tightened. "I know. And I shall be careful."

"You are not invincible, Elle. You're pregnant—"

"And I don't see why it should matter—"

"—and my bloody future wife," he continued. "You stay on land and let us deal with the French."

She planted her hands on her hips. "I'm not doing that."

"Not if the Master orders you to."

"You will not dare exercise your influence on Blackwood to keep me from doing what I want."

"I will because you're being irrational."

"No, I'm not. I want to be on that ship. They need a leader."

"It doesn't have to be you."

"It has to be me." She stepped forward. "Do you think those Soldiers would just bow down to you even if Gabrielle sides with us? You're all men. They hate men. They'll kill you first before they take care of the French. If they're going to work with anyone, it would be with another woman."

Just as he opened his mouth to argue, a knock came at the door. His eyes lingered on Ellise for a while before he turned. Opening the door, he saw the one person he least expected.

"Robert," Ruby said, her face tight and pale. "I need your help."

*****

Reginald did not stir from his chair. His hand, however, flipped one page of the book when the door closed behind Sasha.

"I see that you're having a nice evening," she said, walking into the room.

He just threw her a look and grumbled under his breath.

"You and Leo talked?" she asked, knowing the answer. "Or was it more like a fight?"

He snapped the book closed and glared. "I did not go back to Sutherland to have my orders ignored by everyone."

"Of course. I understand you went back hoping to take over the throne." She settled in the chair opposite his. Somewhere in the vast manor, West was with their child, putting the little angel to sleep. She would have preferred to be with them, but unfortunately, there was another child she had to deal with.

Reginald's chest was heaving with contained fury. Sasha should tell him it was not good for his heart, but she knew it would only make him explode. So instead she asked, "How do you plan to do it, Your Highness? March to Louis and demand for your crown?"

"Yes!" he growled under his breath.

"And... What? Live forever?" she asked with a gentle smile. He hated her gentle smiles.

"Yes!"

"Leo would say you're being unreasonable."

"And he's being pathetic. He just told me he doesn't want to be king. That ungrateful bastard."

"But he's not your bastard, is he?"

"I meant the other kind of bastard." He looked away to glower at the window. "This is not part of my plan with Blackwood."

"Yes, but unfortunately, your plan is flawed. It centered on you and your desire to regain power. It did not consider the other players in the game and what they want."

"I'm the rightful king of Sutherland."

"Yes, of course. But you're as useless as a single pawn." Before he could erupt at her lack of respect, Sasha added, "The Royal Circus is no longer fighting for you, Your Highness.

"If I get the crown back, Napoleon will not have a chance."

"If you get your crown back, your people will be divided. We cannot fight a battle if our weapons cannot work together."

"This is all part of your plan," he accused, pointing a shaking finger at her. "You, a woman from Belcourt, snaked yourself into the Royal Circus. You poisoned their minds. You poisoned my son's mind!"

"What this is, Your Highness, is about pride and power. Yours and the Vandenbergs' and Belcourt's," Sasha evenly said. "Leo recognizes that."

"He doesn't have enough pride and he surely, while I'm still alive, does not have power!"

"He already knows that."

"Why did you even take me back?"

"Because you asked us to. And your life was in danger. I told you when we met that we may be returning to a different Sutherland. And we did." She paused, measuring his anger. "You were dethroned unfairly. I understand that. But you would not have been dethroned if half of Sutherland did not believe your enemies. If you force yourself into the throne, that half of Sutherland will resist. Power is not in the throne, Your Highness. It's with the people who trust you. It's with the alliances you create. And it's with the sacrifices you make."

"And now you want me to sacrifice the remaining days of my life as a wronged man?"

"Your anger is not because you were wronged. It's because you were stripped of your pride and power." She stood and looked down at him. "Those have to wait, Your Highness. We have a land to save."

"You only want to save Belcourt. Admit it, woman."

"Of course, I do."

"Then good luck with that."

She slowly nodded. "I'm no king. Worse of all, I'm a woman. But unlike you, I'm not desperate for a certain power just so I could save Belcourt and Sutherland." She looked around the room again. "Leo is departing tomorrow to join the mission against the French."

"He can go to hell."

Sasha remained quiet until she could no longer help it. She truly could not stand this man. "You're a terrible father, Your Highness."

"What did you say?" he demanded, eyes ablaze.

"I spent a significant amount of time with Leo. Behind his childish façade is a man who wants different things, but he's trapped here, bound by compulsory loyalty to his father who just can't let go of the past."

"You do not understand a thing, young lady. We lost everything."

Sasha could see that he truly believed it to be so. It was there all over his face—the things he lost. "No, Your Highness. You lost your throne. Your son lost his father," she countered. He looked arrested then, but the anger in his eyes still shook and glimmered. "And you will lose him soon if you continue to give value to the things you lost instead to those you survived with." She offered a small bow, half in apology for her tactless words. "I hope you think about what Leo wants for once. Good night."

Later, as she slipped into bed beside her husband, he asked how it went.

"Marvelous as always," she wryly said.