The Case of the Missing Girl
Eleanor sighed again and checked her phone for the twentieth time.
"I thought that Liam was going to call you this evening?" Eleanor jumped and smiled at Sebastian, who had come out onto the balcony to join her in looking out over the Mediterranean, with - Eleanor noticed - two glasses of wine.
"He just texted to remind me - as if I'd forget." Eleanor lied; Sebastian didn't need to know all of the things that were bothering her at the present moment. She frowned. "Is that wine for me, or are you secretly an alcoholic?"
Sebastian grinned, "I thought that was more your thing, Princess."
Eleanor shrugged. "True, true. But you have to admit that I'm a lot better than I..." She trailed off and glanced at Sebastian's face before looking away somewhat guiltily. "Okay, fine, it is more my thing." Evidently, the empty scotch bottle that she'd put in the recycling had not gone unnoticed. Or, perhaps the fact that she'd turned up that morning to the viewing of one of the hotels she'd be styling hung-over.
Sebastian appeared to be taking an immense amount of interest in the view from the balcony as Eleanor checked her phone again.
"You know," Sebastian said, breaking Eleanor's short-lived solace in the comfortable silence between them, "there's still time to have a couple of hours at the beach before dinner, if you want to."
Eleanor grimaced, remembering her not-so-elegant appearance at the hotel that morning. "No, I think I need to make of for this morning and go back to looking at ideas for the layout of the honeymoon suite, it'll help me to take my mind off things."
Rather that pressuring her to explain what "things" she needed to be distracted from, Sebastian laid a hand on her shoulder. "Okay, let me know if you need anything – not that you need help with your designs!" Eleanor glanced at him curiously, intrigued by his sudden change in tone.
"Have you heard back from the hotel in Paris?" She asked excitedly.
"They loved it all! Sadly their text was in French, but I'm sure that them calling you a pamplemousse high praise indeed." Sebastian smiled slyly, causing Eleanor to doubt his words. She grabbed her phone and typed the word into Google Translate (or an approximation of how the word was spelt anyway, after all, GCSE French was about five years ago now).
"You arse!" Eleanor exclaimed. "I am ninety-nine point nine percent certain that they did not call me a grapefruit!"
"It was worth a try." Sebastian mumbled and then gasped in pain as the heel of Eleanor's shoe came into contact with his bare foot. "I guess I deserved that."
Eleanor grinned and then immediately felt guilty: was she falling in love with Sebastian? I'm not, she assured herself, looking out over the sea, we just get along well, that's all. Sebastian handed her the wine and leant against the balcony railings, giving Eleanor the impression of the Prince being very relaxed, almost at home in the afternoon sun of southern France. The Princess, however, could only feel at home if the windows were being pelted with rain, as it seemed to do every other day back home.
The colours in France were so much brighter to her; so much more vibrant than back home, the scenery so much more... alive. She loved that Sebastian had managed to open her eyes to a world outside of the stone walls of the palace, a world of beauty, and – most importantly – a world for her to discover for herself.
But she also felt restless. Restless and furious with herself for leaving behind unfinished business. Despite the joy she experienced while designing and creating, she worried about missing anything back home. She missed the intricate webs of secrets and lies that were made every day and worried endlessly about not being able to squeeze herself back into things. The isolation from her family, she told herself, was good for her. Sebastian was open, kind and, most importantly, was not about to stab her in the back, something that had become second nature to the Princess to look out for. She not only worried about herself; she worried about her brothers, about her mother and about Jasper. After all, the latter was one of the reasons that she had left, and, of course, one of the reasons that she had wanted to stay.
Sebastian turned to leave. "Sebastian," said Eleanor, "what do you think is going on back home? I miss my family. I know I shouldn't; but I do, no matter how screwed up our relationships with each other are."
The Prince thought for a moment. "I think that they miss you too. But I also think that they are so happy that you are away from all of the drama that goes on behind those palace gates- all of the secrets and lies. So, you shouldn't feel guilty about not being there for them. You know, with modern technology," he held up his phone, "you are only a call away."
Eleanor smiled kindly at his meagre joke. As always, Sebastian had read between the lines of Eleanor's question and found the real meaning of her words, a quality that she loved about him. She felt that she could say anything to him and he'd find a way to make her smile, or, if needed, give her a sturdy shoulder to cry on. She truly was grateful that she had gone with him, no matter what her fears were about the events back home.
"Thank you, Sebastian." Eleanor said and began to walk back into the flat that they were renting.
Then, her phone began to ring.
"James, hi, how are you? It's so great to finally hear from you! What's it been, like two months since I last heard from you?" said Eleanor eagerly, both relieved and disappointed that it wasn't an American voice at the other end.
"Princess, she's missing! The last time I saw her she told me that she was going to your room and then she didn't turn up to lunch even though I distinctly remember telling her very clearly that she was to be there at one o'clock sharp and now nobody claims to have seen her since ten this morning, except when I saw her about an hour later and I have no idea what to do!" This was all said incredibly quickly and in such a tone that Eleanor knew how serious the situation was, if only she could actually understand what James was trying to tell her.
"Whoa, whoa! Just hold on a second: tell me slowly and clearly. What's going on?"
Sebastian eyed the Princess' face with concern before gesturing to her that he was going to leave the balcony to give her some privacy. She nodded and shut the door behind him.
"It's Sarah-Alice. She's missing." James breathed in very deeply, evidently holding back tears. Hating to hear James in such a state of panic, Eleanor's heart went out to him- she knew firsthand what it was like to lose somebody that you cared deeply about, even if James' loss was just (hopefully) temporary.
"It's okay, James, we'll figure this out. Do you want to talk me through what you know? Then we can come up with a plan to find her, okay?"
A whispered conversation was going on at the other end. The phone changed hands, the hand receiving the mobile a lot steadier than James'. Then, another too-familiar voice took over.
"The last time he saw her was at about 10:45 this morning," Jasper's tone was business-like yet concerned, very much like the tone he'd used when talking to Sarah-Alice, except, of course, there was no need for him to disguise his accent. "It's now 16:20 and there's been no sign of her anywhere in the palace or in the grounds for at least..." He did some mental calculations. "... four hours and thirty five minutes."
Eleanor gazed across the sea, almost hoping that she would catch a glimpse of the girl's whereabouts in the glittering water. "Presuming that my brother knows, Robert this is, not Liam, we could ask him for some help. I'm sure he'd be happy to lend us a few of his best to help look for her."
Jasper sighed, although he was secretly pleased with her use of pronouns ("us" and not "you") he wasn't pleased with what he'd have to say next. "At the moment, all we know is that a seven-year-old child is missing. That's not something that the King of England needs to be aware of, especially given what's going on right now."
Worried by the other things that Jasper was implying were "going on", Eleanor thought for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded, her voice rising in pitch, "my brother is a good man with a kind heart – no matter who he is, I'm sure that-"
"Len, listen to me." Jasper said, not raising his voice but putting more urgency into his words, "Your brother, given the chance, wouldn't give a damn about anyone other than himself, I should know. You tend to learn a lot about someone when you're their security detail."
Eleanor ignored his callous referral to the roots of their relationship. "What about Liam?"
"Now is really not the time to be discussing Liam."
"Okay..." said Eleanor slowly. That was going to be a really fun conversation for later: a conversation to add to the already very full list of things that Eleanor needed to discuss with Jasper. "Anyway, why did James call me: I'm in Nice-
"I know."
"-and," said Eleanor, annoyed by his interruption, "I'm pretty sure that I would know if a seven-year-old was trying to break in to my flat. It's a girl thing."
"Len," Jasper began softly, "She said that she was going to your room. Therefore, we have every reason to believe that in her mind, you room is wherever you are."
"Shit." whispered Eleanor.
"Yeah." agreed Jasper. They were silent for a few moments, with all of the things that each of them wanted to say just out of reach.
"Should I come home?" asked Eleanor, hoping above everything in the entire world that he'd say yes.
"As much as I think that that is a good idea, we need someone at your end, really, to keep an eye out. We also need to keep this a secret. The King must not know about this."
"Why not?" inquired Eleanor, still very much offended on Robert's behalf at Jasper's (and apparently James') lack of faith in the contents of her brother's heart.
"He'd fire us if he found out the real reason for the head of the Royal Family's security and his own personal security detail taking a week's holiday at the same time, other than it being a really weird coincidence. Furthermore, this job is pretty much all I have right now, so... I'd rather not lose that too." Jasper trailed off. The Princess could imagine his face, the expression of loss that would be on it. At least, the expression that would be hidden by a façade of stoic immovability, but she knew it was there. She knew what was in his heart. (He had literally pulled it out and ripped it open for her to see a few nights before she left.)
"Okay," Eleanor said softly, "I understand. How about Sebastian? He could stay here and I could help the search back home."
"Do you trust him?" Jasper asked; his heart in his mouth. He was unsure what response he wanted from her. If she said yes, then he'd get to see her that very day. If she said no, he had a chance at winning back her love – he didn't want to compete with someone who made her feel happy, someone who helped her to feel comfortable and calm.
"Yes. With my life." Eleanor meant this, no matter how confused her heart was over the Prince.
"That is more than enough for me." Said Jasper. "I'll let the French Government know that you are in need of a plane immediately. Be at the airport in exactly an hour." His tone reminded her briefly of the Jasper before they'd recognised that they were in love, the bodyguard who'd guided her around her own room to all of the loaded firearms that he'd kept in there. Unexpectedly, he hung up, leaving Eleanor with only the sound of her own inhales and exhales for company.