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The next night she again waited in his rooms, but he returned to them far sooner than the prior evening. He entered from his private sitting room, again locking the door behind him. Then he turned to face the room where she had been hiding the night before. “Are you here?”

“Do you have news?” She was in a different part of the room this time, in the armchair directly in front of the darkened fireplace.

His head turned to where she sat, and he closed the space between them quickly, as if he feared she would slip away. He found her lounging in the armchair and braced his hands on the armrests on either side of it, leaning in close to her.

“Dangerous territory, Prince,” she whispered.

“Do not call me that,” he snarled softly.

“Do not call you by your title?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“Just…no,” he whispered.

And without realizing she was doing it, she brought her hand to his perfect face. Callan froze, and she brushed her thumb along his cheekbone. She studied those hazel eyes, the green flickering in the embers of the hearth. “Do I frighten you, Callan?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he breathed back.

“Good.”

They stared at each other for another moment, her hand still on his cheek. Then he said, “Tell me your name.”

“Tell me your information,” she countered.

“Oh no, my Wraith of Shadows. Tonight I make the demands,” he said softly, with a small smirk.

“And what would you demand of me,Callan?”

“We will start with your name.” He still stood braced over her in the armchair.

“Scarlett,” she whispered. “Scarlett Monrhoe.”

“Monrhoe? The healer’s daughter?”

“You know of my mother?” she asked in surprise.

“She was a renowned healer. The best in the kingdom. She came to the castle once to heal my mother,” he explained. “But she was…”

“Yes, she was,” Scarlett replied quietly, dropping her hand from his face, her eyes falling to her lap.

“And her daughter has not been seen in…”

“Nearly seven years,” Scarlett finished, lifting her eyes back to him. “So now, Crown Prince, will you still keep the secrets of the shadows?”

“Everyone believes you to be dead,” he said, searching her eyes.

“That was the plan.”

“Why?”

“Because I was also supposed to be killed that night,” she answered.

Callan was silent for a long moment. “I have been down to the dungeons. There are no children there. I have heard no mention of it from any of the dungeon guards or castle guards.”

“Could there be another set of dungeons? Ones you do not know about?” she asked, urgency in her voice.

“I do not know where there could be,” Callan said, standing upright now and taking a step back.

Scarlett was on her feet, pacing in his room. “He didn’t hear wrong. This cannot be another dead end.” She was muttering more to herself than to Callan at this point. “We cannot start over from square one. Not again. Too much has gone into this.”