Page 111 of Stolen Princess

Realization clicks through me. “She told me about her. She said her best friend was poisoned. Is that her?”

Marcella blanches. “Yes. I’m the one who poisoned her because she tried to poison the prince. Again, very long story.”

“Wow.” A strange laugh catapults from my lips. “Wait. Batorini? Where do I know that name from?”

“Samil Batorini was the former prime minister,” Bellamy informs me.

“He tried to kill…” I trail off and notice the scar on her neck for the first time. Holy shit.

“Yep.” She taps the long, white slice with her finger. “This lovely reminder is from him.”

“God, I’m so sorry. And his mother was best friends with Antonia, and you lived in her house.” I point to Marcella and whistle through my teeth. But more than that, I’m not the only one who’s had it different or rough or tragic. Everyone in this palace has, and it seems that dates back to when I was a baby. “Yeah. It seems I have a lot to catch up on.”

Bellamy snorts. “You could say that. But all that aside, I know you don’t know us, and we don’t know you, but you’re family, and we’d really love for you to stay and get to know us. Plus, Marcella and I are close to your age. We’d love for you to be our friend too. Neither of us had the easiest of upbringings, either, so we truly do understand.”

Tears set fire to my eyes, and I swallow past the fresh burn in my throat. I nod. It’s all I’ve got. Friends. I’ve never had those, but it sounds fucking amazing. I have nowhere else to go, but the thought of staying here, of learning and discovering all the things I’ve missed, is beautifully alluring.

“Listen, it’s new and strange here,” Bellamy states. “It’s a freaking palace. I was an English teacher with no life other than my sick father, and she was a servant in an abusive home. Trust us, we get how weird it is to suddenly be royalty and live in a palace. But the king and prince have been searching for you since you were taken. You’re safe here. And sometimes that’s all we need to hear.”

“It’s true,” Marcella continues. “Sebastian and Rowan never gave up hope. They never stopped looking. Rowan’s been tormented since you were taken. He always blamed himself for what happened since he woke the king after hearing a noise but never alerted the guards.”

My head dips, and my heart shakes in my chest, making my bones and muscles follow suit.

“Antonia told me… that is, she said… she’s not my mother.” I slowly lift my head. “But neither is the dowager queen.”

“Right.” Marcella nods. “Don’t sweat it. We’ll get to all of that. But yes, we know.”

Well, that’s a relief. They seem to know more than I do.

“These are my stepdaughters.” Bellamy pulls out her phone, and there’s a picture of two beautiful little girls. And holy shit, they look so much like me.

“I looked similar to that when I was their age. Minus the eyes and hair color. They’re blonder than I am.”

“Yes,” Bellamy agrees. “You’re part of them. Sebastian told me he knew it the moment he saw your picture. They have your smile, and how lovely is that? You have no clue how happy it made him that you look so much like them.”

I tilt my head at the way she says that, but she presses on.

“Let’s show you to your room, and we can go from there.”

I nod, more than a little exhausted. I need sleep. I need food. I need a shower. I need all the things. But I also need to meet my brothers. I have people, real people, for the first time ever.

They take me inside the palace, and holy Jesus. I’m in a palace where my family lives.

“Your room has clothes for you.” Bellamy’s hand lands on my good arm. “The drawers and closet are filled. They’re all for you. Please don’t feel weird about wearing anything. I might have gone a little nuts when I heard about you and then saw your picture. Once I had an idea of your size, I ordered you a ton of stuff. But if you don’t like them or they’re not to your taste, we can get you anything you want.”

“I’ve lived in T-shirts, pants, and shorts for most of my life. I would wear my nicer blouses for Antonia, but that’s it. Anything you got me, I’m positive I’ll love. Thank you for doing that for me.”

We walk into a massive entry room that’s filled with art and sculptures. I take a moment to look around, my heart hammering so hard it hurts.

“This way.” Bellamy waves me on and leads me up a curved flight of stone steps. But the moment we reach the second floor before we ascend to the third, an awareness tickles the back of my neck. I freeze, letting the sensation take over, my insides matching the chill that sweeps over me.

I twist to look down the hall. Then I blink and blink again, shaking uncontrollably. If I thought my heart was beating hard before, it’s about to explode now.

“Is this for real?”

Because I’m staring straight at Ferrin.

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