Chapter 155

NOLAN

“And how is Yena doing? I just adore her, you know.” Cindy put her hand over her heart and pressed her lips into a smile. “She really made quite an impact on me.”

Nolan’s eyes slipped briefly away from Cindy’s. “Yena is doing great. Thank you for asking.” He manufactured a polite smile before meeting her eyes again. She didn’t notice his hesitation. The room was bustling with voices and activity, distractions everywhere.

“Please tell me that you’ll bring her along the next time you come to visit,” Cindy said. “The children just loved her, too. Oh, and I’m sure she would enjoy seeing all the art they created after she came here and gave them that drawing lesson. They really haven’t stopped talking about it since.”

“I will be sure to let her know that,” Nolan replied. “She’ll be happy to hear it.”

A meek, very small boy appeared, clutching at Cindy’s leg and peeking out at Nolan from behind her body. Cindy absently patted the boy’s head, guiding his wild mess of hair into a neater shape.

“And how is her new business going?” she continued. “I follow her on social media, of course. I even thought about sending her a message on there to say hi, but I got nervous. Does Yena even run the account herself, or does she have a social media manager?” The little boy started tugging at the hem of Cindy’s shirt. She reached down and swooped him up into her arms, her eyes still focused on Nolan, and rested the child’s tiny body against her hip.

“Oh, it’s all her,” Nolan answered, quite confident this was true even though he knew nothing about Yena’s new business endeavor. “You should go ahead and message her. Yena would be thrilled to hear from you, Cindy.”

Cindy blushed, giving Nolan a doubtful look. Then the little boy leaned close to her ear and whispered something. Nolan pretended not to have overheard what he said.

“Mm-hmm. Why don’t you ask Prince Nolan, yourself?” Cindy whispered back to the boy.

The child, now smiling shyly, hesitated a few times before he managed to produce words aloud in Nolan’s direction. “Did you say that you know Miss Yena?” he finally asked in a flute-like voice.

Nolan smiled at the boy. “Yes. Do you know her, too?”

Now the boy’s smile burst across the full width of his face, and he nodded up and down eagerly, moving his whole body along with his head. “I know Princess Yena,” he said. “She taught me how to draw.”

Nolan had never had the pleasure of seeing Yena interact with children. It sounded like she’d really captured some hearts when she was here. He would expect nothing less from his princess.

Yena wasn’t really his princess anymore, though, Nolan reminded himself.

He really needed to start training his mind not to think of her like that anymore.

The little boy whispered to Cindy again, cupping both his tiny hands around her ear and making a mess of her hair.

“Okay then, go and get it. Quickly, please.” Cindy put the boy on the floor and he took off running, disappearing into the hallway. She watched him go, shaking her head. “Gentlemen, I’m so sorry to have kept you standing here in the lobby all this time. Where are my manners?”

Cindy, pulling her hair into a fresh ponytail, called out a series of commands to the room, first telling the children to quiet and settle, then delegating tasks to her employees. The other adults started peeling off down the hall, leading rows of wiggling, excited children away a few at a time.

The lobby had cleared out and Cindy was crouched next to Alaster’s wheelchair chatting with the old man when the shy little boy returned, running up the hallway at full speed. He had taken very seriously Cindy’s instruction to be quick.

The boy came right up to Nolan this time, stopping only when their toes were an inch apart. Panting from his sprint, he craned his little neck back and stared straight up at the prince. Then he thrust up his hands, proudly holding up a crayon drawing, presenting it like an offering to the gods.

Nolan took the paper in his hands delicately. It had been folded and unfolded in many places and was battered at the edges, looking like it had been carried around for quite a while.

It was a picture of a wolf, rendered with the low realism of a child’s hand but accurate in its depiction of the creature. On the top of the page the boy had written in big, wobbly letters, “FOR: MISS YENA.” He had signed his own name at the bottom.

“Will you give this to Miss Yena?” the boy asked breathlessly, his tiny voice barely audible.

“Of course.” Nolan stepped one foot back and knelt down, meeting the boy at the floor. “This is impressive work, young man. Miss Yena will be very proud of you.”

The boy lit up like a firecracker. Then he squealed and ran away.

Cindy pushed the double doors to the theater room open, holding one of them back while Nolan pushed the old man forward ahead of him.

“Looks great in here.” Nolan glanced around the room. It had still been under construction the last time he’d been there.

“Thank you! You gentlemen can take a seat anywhere you’d like, but I highly recommend the front row.” Cindy led the way down the center aisle and Nolan followed, with Alaster between them.

It was a large room, but very simply furnished. A low wooden stage occupied one end of the space, with curtained entrances on either side of it that led to a narrow backstage area. Sounds of commotion drifted out from behind the big red velvet curtain, and tiny feet in tiny shoes could be spied underneath it.

On the other end of the room were two wooden staircases that led up to two small balconies – there were less than a dozen seats arranged on each – and filling the center of the room were about twenty rows of interconnected folding chairs. The walls were all covered over with red curtains to dampen sound and improve the acoustics when the children were singing or acting plays.

Nolan rolled Alaster forward, actually needing to pull back some on the handles as the floor began to slope, slightly, downward. It evened out at the landing where Cindy was waiting for them, pointing to an open space in the front row reserved for wheelchair parking.

“This is just lovely,” Alaster said. “What a blessing it is to be here. What will the children be performing for us, Miss Cindy?”

Cindy beamed proudly and started to answer the old man.

Nolan heard some of what she was saying. But he had also just heard something else. Something that set him on edge.

It was a sharp metallic Click.

A sound like someone cocking a gun.

For Nolan, the next two seconds happened in slow motion.

He turned his head and immediately registered a presence in the stage-right balcony. He could feel eyes on him.

And then he saw it: the barrel of a sniper rifle, peeking out from under one of the pleated curtains that lined the balcony walls.

The prince was unarmed. He had left his own firearm behind at the palace, unwilling to carry a weapon into a place full of defenseless innocents.

Nolan knew he was the target. But he also knew a gunman hired by Adan would be very motivated to get his job done, whatever the cost. Whatever the damage.

Alaster and Cindy were directly beside Nolan. Inches away.

And just behind them, up on the stage, concealed but not protected behind the curtain, were dozens of children.

Nolan started charging in the direction of the gunman. Making his body a bigger target. So that no one behind him – the old man, Cindy, the kids – could be caught between the bullet and its intended recipient.

Only Nolan heard the tiny click of the trigger being pulled. He leapt forward into the line of fire.

Everyone, of course, heard the gunshot blast.