Twenty-One:
Prince Henry
I was at the main entrance when she came home from the club. It was early afternoon, and she had, of all things, taken an Uber. Although I wasn’t sure how that had happened. Or how she had gotten out of the castle in the first place. What I did know was the fact that she wasn’t in her bed had caused a panic attack through the palace.
Also the pictures of her on Jude Elliot’s balcony that had been released moments ago hadn’t helped either. When she got out of the car, Cecelia grimaced as she looked at me.
“Why are you here, Henry?” she asked.
“Why weren’t you in bed?” I returned. “And why didn’t you tell anyone where it was that you were going?”
“Because it wasn’t any of their business,” she said.
“Cecelia, I think you’ve forgotten that you aren’t an
