Chapter 7

Lana twiddled her thumbs as she stood outside the kitchen.

She had brought Briar all the way to the kitchen, nervous as she walked.

The crown prince of Hayelot had just gotten out of the bushes.

Lana had seen it with her own two eyes.

The pretty brunette shook her head at herself. There was no way.

They were quite a distance away. Surely, Lana was mistaken.

Did Briar really have a relationship with the prince? The crown prince, at that? The one who next in line to the throne had a secret relationship with Briar?

Lana bit her lip.

But how could that be?

Her friend hadn't breathed a word.

She had skipped happily into the castle's kitchen without a single smile misplaced, even a glance more at her friend.

She had walked cooly into the kitchen and yelled out a greeting to the waiting men whilst Lana had stayed outside.

Watching the closed back door of the castle's kitchen, Lana frowned.

Had she missed something? Was that the prince or a different man in the bushes?

Would Briar really harbour such an important relationship and not tell Lana, her own friend when she acted so close to Lana and talked to her so many hours a day?

Lana's heart lurched when she realized she was not an all-obliging friend either.

Of the two of them, Lana had the most to hide and was no innocent person.

She was a spy, sent in to collect intelligence that would one day assist her own kingdom to easily kill anyone in Hayelot.

Lana bit her lip.

She was the most dishonest person of all.

There was no right she could find to think so evilly about her only friend in Hayelot.

The gravity of her learnings slowly came down on Lana.

Lana was no one's friend and no one was Lana's.

She could also trust no one.

Lana had completely let her guard down around the seemingly innocent and sweet Briar but that had been foolish.

Everyone had their secrets, and everyone had their loyalties.

Lana would not be so foolish again.

She would befriend no one deeply, keeping her cards close to her chest.

Heaving, she decided she would go to the cottage she lived in as quickly as she could and rest.

She would return to make lunch.

Lana did not want to enter the kitchen where the handsome men stood talking to Briar and flirting, she was sure.

She remembered the two tall men she'd seen that day.

The gorgeous blond man and the attractive redhead. They had not seemed as childish or lust-driven as the men she'd seen who'd make their way to the kitchen pretending to need some extra food or fruit.

They had seemed… nice, she decided.

She shook her head.

What was she thinking?

What did she care if they were nice or not?

Lana would have nothing to do with them.

Turning around, she took quick steps toward the long path leading to her cottage when the door of the castle's kitchen banged open and one of the handsome men from before stepped out.

--

Diana stepped down into one of the dark staircases, a hand firmly grasping one of the letters of the Prince's.

The boy was not in line for the throne, but he had important jobs within the castle. He regularly wrote letters to the troops situated at the border and any time Diana could get her hands on one, she read it and them created copies as fast as she could.

Walking down to the kitchen in the late evening, she knew what she had to do.

She had to find the new maid girl or whatever her title had been for the spying job and safely give it to her without attracting attention.

There were no banquets planned so there would definitely be at least an hour left before the spy girl would start preparations for dinner.

The last time Diana had gone in, she had seen others there early and the pretty lady had had to feign a stomachache and drink the most dreadful concoction before secretly handing the letter to the new kitchen hand.

Lana.

That had been her name. 

She had looked so stupid too and it had irritated Diana to have to depend on someone who looks so naïve and out of sorts at such an important job.

She cursed under her breath as she went down the castle stairs in a hurry.

There was still an hour before the kitchen staff arrived to start their chores.

One thing the new Lana did perfectly was stay available at all times.

She only went to her quarters for an hour or two a day and always stayed in the kitchen, ready to meet Diana and the other mysterious spy at any time.

Diana stopped for a moment, her breath catching in her chest as she heard a familiar voice.

It was the crown prince speaking with an attendant. 

He was making his way up the stairs.

Gathering her skirts, Diana raced upstairs as fast as she could, her mind annoyed by the sounds she was making.

She had to run.

The stairs went directly down to the kitchen.

What was the crown prince doing from down there?

He was not to frequent this part of the castle at all. Why did these things happen to her?

She ran into the corridor and did not slow down.

As fast as she could, she ran through the corridor and up another flight of stairs.

The letter was still held very tightly in her fingers, crushing the delicate paper it was written on.

Diana cursed, her legs hurting from suddenly being forced to run up the stairs so quickly.

Heaving, she reached the landing of her floor and hurried to the room of the second prince where she stayed.

She paused at the door before entering, straining her ears to hear if anyone was following her.

Not a sound could be heard, and she entered her room and shut the door after her in relief.

Sighing, she looked down at the letter that she had crushed in her excitement to escape.

Diana grit her teeth.

It was an important letter and she had to reach the kitchen at any cost.

She had maybe two more days to try.

The information in the letter was time sensitive.

Diana leaned back into the door as she let out a long sigh, her chest slowly relaxing.

She had a job to do and did not know when she could possibly get it done.

The whole situation annoyed her to no end.

The prince would arrive to take her down to dinner, she realized.

Groaning, she walked through the room to where her large trunk sat at the floor of the magnificent bed.

Squatting, she opened its heavy lid and stashed the letter behind several heavy accounting books.

Slamming the lid close, she sat down, slowly recovering her bearings and making plans.

The expensive necklace the prince had given her that morning, lay on a comfortable chair by her vanity mirror.

Rising, Diana walked slowly to the chair.

There was a dinner she had to get ready for.

Everything would proceed as things normally did and no one would be the wiser.

Diana could afford no one finding her true identity or purpose.