Sherry’s funeral is held in a church a few blocks from the palace. My first outing after the murder attempt and I don’t have her hovering somewhere behind me. How strange my life has become.

I take Timmy’s trembling hand beside me, tears flow down our faces. To my left, Royce and to his left, Bertie. The ceremony has just ended. The guests make their way out, but none of us feels like getting up. We sit in silence, each with our own thought, but somehow I can feel us going back to the same time. When the world felt so much lighter, the palace so much bigger and the woman laid in front of us, so much alive.

“Paige couldn’t make it.” Royce says quietly.

“I’m sure Sherry understands.” My voice cracks at the end, still can’t get used to refer to her in past tense.

“She wanted to remind you that it’s not your fault, Jenny.”

I smile at him weakly. “It’s very nice of her to say that.” But everybody in this bloody church knows it’s very much my fault. They’re not that naive to attack me in the open, but I’m not blind nor deaf. I’ve gotten nothing but hateful eyes and sour murmurs since I arrived here, and I know I can’t blame them. Let’s face it—no enemies of Sherry are powerful enough to pull off something like this.

That’s exactly why uncle convinced me to skip the funeral, to no avail. I did promise to come back as soon as I can, though.

“I don’t blame you, Jenny.” Royce gives my left hand a little squeeze.

“And neither do we.” Bertie quickly jumps in.

“Thank you, guys. I really appreciate it.” I manage a weak smile.

“Do you know something about her murderer, Jenny?” Bertie asks.

“Nothing conclusive that I know of.” But last night, my uncle did say something strange. “Do any of you know her daughter has been hospitalized for almost two weeks?”

Timmy tenses beside me, but says nothing.

“What? Now that you mention it, I don’t see Lucas and Rhea anywhere.” Bertie scans the church subtly.

I glare at Bertie. “You didn’t know? That so-called husband of her left last year. It’s been her and Rhea for a while now.” I turn to Timmy. “Timmy, you know about Rhea?”

“I ... uh. Yeah, of course. Wilms’ tumor. Um. I didn’t tell you, B?” Timmy says, absentmindedly.

“I knew that guy’s bad news!” Bertie sighs. “Poor Rhea. Will she be okay?”

“We’ll take care of her. It’s the least we can do.” I say sternly.

Bertie nods. “Look, Jenny, stop punishing yourself. Sherry wouldn’t want that either.”

“Thanks ... Bertie.”

Bertie casts a concerned look at his fellow stable guy and says, “You’re quiet, Timmy.”

Timmy stands up abruptly, then turns to us. “Guys, please let me get back alone with Jenny. Please.”

Bertie starts to argue, hot on his heels. Royce gets between them before things start to heat up. I hang back to study Timmy in silence.

He looks pale and he sweats a lot. Moreover, he looks guilty. I know my uncle warned me not to be alone with him if I can help it, but this is my chance if I want to learn anything about Sherry’s death. I’d be crazy to let this opportunity escape me. And ... well, call me naive. But after all that’s happened to me, I still don’t think he has it in him to hurt me.

“Okay.” I say, effectively silencing the three of them. But not for long. Then Bertie speaks up, followed closely by Timmy, and they get back to arguing in no time.

Royce pulls me to the side and hisses angrily. “Jenny, what the hell? King Isaac personally warned me not to let you out of my sight!”

“Then watch my car from behind.”

“That’s not how it works and you know it!”

I turn to Royce, annoyed. “Don’t you trust Timmy? He’s our friend!”

“He’s also been acting suspicious as hell.” Royce snaps back. Well, he’s not wrong. “I’m not blind, Jenny. You’d risk your safety for some information? That’s foolish, okay?”

I fold my arms. “This is my call, Royce.”

“No, it’s not. I just need to make one phone call.” He says sternly, eyes never leaving me as his finger hovers readily over his phone. The name of my uncle shows in the screen, the only one person who has power over me.

“Don’t you dare, Royce.” I warn him. “I won’t forgive you.”

He sighs, frustrated. “Just, please, Jenny ... I’m so worried.” I feel a small pang in my chest as his voice cracks a little. The cold prince of Orinh, hopelessly begs me to come to my sense. If that doesn’t scream bad idea, I don’t know what does.

Still, I steal a glance at Timmy and meet his pleading eyes. I know Royce has the same standing as me, thus has every power to counter me, though he won’t use it without my permission. But Timmy ... he can’t do anything without so much as my words. I don’t play favourite, but Timmy deserves a chance to prove himself.

“Royce, if you can’t trust him, at least trust me.” I hold his eyes steadily. “I know what I do. But, if it makes you feel better, I’ll make him drive. He’ll be too busy to be fast. And, just in case, I’ll put you on speed dial. He acts the littlest suspicious, you’ll be the first to know. Now, are we good?”

He sighs, then nods reluctantly. He pulls me in an embrace as he swiftly slips a swiss army knife to my hand. “You have pepper spray in your bag?”

“Always.” I wink as I walk away from him. “Don’t worry too much, Royce. I’m sure everything will be okay.”

^^^

The first half of ride back home was in total silence as Timmy struggled to find words. I replied back to Royce every other minute, but mostly just sat in silence as I waited for Timmy patiently. He’ll come around, see.

“Jenny, first of all ...” He stops when his voice cracks.

“Yeah?” I nudge carefully.

“Thank you for agreeing to ride home alone with me. I don’t deserve it but ... thank you.”

“No, Timmy, it’s nothing.”

“No, Jenny. Royce is right to worry about me.”

My body shivers a little. I mean, I expected it, but it’s another thing to actually acknowledge it. “He is?”

“They sent anonymous letters to both of us. Sherry and I. Um, to mess with the chandelier’s bracket screws. It was very detailed calculation of gravity force and everything.”

I can’t hold back my sobs. Sherry and Timmy of all people in the palace? “D-did you do it?”

“Sherry did. They held Rhea hostage.”

“Oh my God ....”

“She’s okay. In fact, her cancer’s being treated out of their ‘generosity’. That’s why Sherry felt obliged to ‘help them out’ in exchange, not knowing they were targeting you. They were very sly, Jenny ....” Timmy starts to cry. “Soon Sherry realized that she made a mistake. She begged them to return her child, even though they made it clear that after a biopsy, a chemotherapy must follow closely. Or else, the cancer that’s been awakened would spread out rapidly. Her conscience wouldn’t let her turn to your uncle, so she’s left with two choices. To kill her daughter or to kill you.”

Oh, Sherry .... “She couldn’t choose so they killed her instead?”

Timmy nods, crying all the while. “I was beside her all the time and couldn’t do anything. It’s the worst feeling ever, Jenny, I tell you. It’s the worst ....” He sobs some more, his body shakes so much it looks like it’ll crumble at the softest touch. Gosh, does he never eat? He lost too much weight in just a week.

“Why are you telling me this now, Timmy?”

“Because now that they don’t have a pawn at their disposal, they turn to me. And since they’ve failed to manipulate me, they threaten me blatantly instead. To kill you or to be sent in a bag just like Sherry.”

He stops there. I wait patiently in quiet sobs, but he never says anything else. Just before we enter the palace ground, he steals a glance at my direction and says, in exasperated tone, “Why aren’t you saying anything? I could kill you any minute now and you wouldn’t do or say anything to defend your life?”

“Timmy, thank you for telling me and coming to me for help. I promise you, this will end soon, hopefully without any other casualties. And, Timmy, you wouldn’t go straight to the palace if you did intend to kill me.” By that time, the car has perfectly stopped in the palace’s driveway. Standing by, Katya opens the door for me.

“Your Royal Highness, His Majesty and Prince Napoleon is waiting in the king’s study.”

Huh. Raul?

“Meet me in my uncle’s study.” I says to Timmy before getting off.

“No, wait! I’m saying goodbye, Jenny.”

I stop short and glare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Please, close the door?” He looks uncomfortably at Katya and the rest of my entourage.

I close the door without thinking twice, eyes never leaving him. “Well?”

“You’re right, I’ve never intended to kill you. But seeking for help was never an option. They planted a bug inside our bodies, Jenny. The moment I defy them, the poison would be released. Any hour now, I would die for telling you all of this. But I saw you across the garden, Jenny. Yesterday, when you discovered Sherry’s body. I don’t ever want to see you like that ever again. I won’t let them win. Please, Jenny, consider this your friend’s last wish.” He grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eyes, “Please kill me and get rid of my body instead.”

“Are you crazy? No!” I shake free of him, hastily open the door and yell, “Get me Raphael and Prince Napoleon in east guest chamber. Now!”

I turn to him and squeeze his already freezing arm. “You’re not dying on my watch, Timmy. They’re not winning. I’ll make sure of it.”

^^^

“Vital?” Still in a fancy tuxedo, Raphael rushes in and takes over Raul. He must have come straight from a fitting for his wedding.

As he removes the sphygmomanometer of Timmy’s arm, Raul answers fluently, “BT 35,8, BP 98 over 70, HR 64, RR ....”

“Laxative! Check if it’s laxative abuse.” I cut in. “I got this feeling that the murderer has terrible sense of joke.” Just like what they gave Summer three years ago, but at a lethal dose. Thank Al for that information. And the symptoms are all there.

“Will do, princess.” Raul throws me a quick wink before turning to pat Timmy’s cheek gently. “Hey, Tim? Stay with me.” Laid in the guest chamber, my stable master blinks in and out of consciousness.

“And where’s the metal detector?” I raise my voice at Katya.

“In a moment, princess—”

“Found it.” Raphael points at the back of Timmy’s right earlobe. “Prepare for a surgery!” He shouts around some more, then turns to look at Raul. “Will you lead this one? You’re an army doctor, surely you’ve got more experiences in surgery than me.”

Raul looks reluctant, like he doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries. “It’s a small one, Raph. You do it.”

“No, I insist ....”

“Jenny, focus!” Meanwhile on the other side of the room, me and uncle are having a whole other conversation.

“Sorry, Uncle. You were saying?”

“So Edmund finally agreed to see us, tomorrow. I have a feeling he’s involved somehow, but not too deeply. We’ll see. And then Kevyn took over the video call, saying something about wanting to talk to you personally. And then Raul barged in and started accusing his own pops, saying something about master of mind games. And then Jack barged in and stole away your man, saying something about Timmy’s dying. I swear those brats are getting too chummy with me.”

“So, King Maximilian?”

Uncle Isaac nods. “For someone who’s playing a big game, he’s sure playing hard to get. No matter. Let’s settle this once and for all. Jenny, let’s have an audience with his majesty.”

I nod, gritting my teeth in frustration. What could he possibly gain from this? Isn’t killing my parents enough revenge for what my grandfather did to him? He’s this close to hand over the crown to Prince Emmett. Why couldn’t he at least be civil on his last days?

Uncle Isaac gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze as he looks at me knowingly. “Imagine how it felt to be his adopted brother. King Luther sure had it tough, huh?”

I give him a hug in return. “Did you ever talk about this with your dad?”

“Nope, I was too young to care back then. Not that I ever felt the need to. Your dad was always the model crown prince.”

“Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, the surgery will now take place. Please leave the room for the time being.”

I whip my head to the bed’s direction. “How’s Timmy?”

“Saved, thanks to you.” Raphael smiles warmly. Raul nods encouragingly behind him.

I sigh. “It’s really nothing. Keep an eye on him, will you guys?”

“And come report to me when you’re done.” Uncle waves to Raul and Raphael as he beckons me out. “Bring Cass to grand meeting room tomorrow precisely at nine. The council’s already salty because we chose a Hamthor attorney.” He adds, addressing me.

I counter. “He’s there as a consultant, not an attorney.”

Uncle rolls his eyes. “Potahto, potayto.”