CHAPTER THREE

"DID HE TRY TO KISS you?" Genevieve asks while I try to work on the statistics report about soldiers in New Asia. I couldn't focus on it since my mind is on Aspen and our date last night.

"No we just talk," I hummed in response. "Oh Genevieve, it was so sweet! The way he talks about his family and his province. It was so amazing and it feels so true. I think he's a keeper. I can't wait to see him again!"

"Well that's good, Lonnie. But who is the mystery guy? You can't keep his identity hidden forever." Genevieve peeks at the paper that was on my desk. Her face stiffens at the reports. "That doesn't sound good. What do you think will happen to all of the deceased soldiers?"

I slumped my shoulders in sadness. I hate reading reports on rebel attacks and the war in New Asia. "I don't know what I can do. I'm not the heir so I can't make the decisions only Mom, Father and Maxon will know what to do."

"But London, you're a princess. You can stop this or try to convince the king to end the war." Genevieve winks at me. "We all believe in you. Have you ever thought of becoming the next queen of Illéa?"

If Father overheard our conversation, it would be treason. I never thought of becoming queen, it's something I'll never accomplish. "I may be a princess, Gen but I don't have to end the war, the king does. And you know how ruthless Father can be." I cringed as I got up from my chair. "I'm heading out to get some fresh air. I should be back soon."

I ran out of the room before she could say anything. I allow my legs to take me anywhere. It can be any place where I don't have to think about boys, problems in Illéa, the war in New Asia and the rebels. I didn't realize I rounded the corner on the first floor.

I climbed up the steps that will lead to the secret room in the palace. Father doesn't know that I learned about the room. The royal family and a handful of guards knew it existed. My father doesn't want me anywhere near that room but I never ceased to listen to him.

I entered a parlor that had a painting in the middle. I waited to make sure no one was near to see before lifting the painting. I stepped into a dark room that has a bolted door with a keypad next to it. I punched in the numbers and the door soon opened to reveal a dimly lit room.

I let out a relieved sigh once I was inside the room. The room was huge with shelves of books on one side. There's one shelf with red binders on the book spines. Those are old editions of novels that are banned in the country and it's our only copies which we left in the room. Embedded on the wall was a computer screen that will help us search anything in the room. I walked over to the computer and I typed in Gregory Illéa's diaries. It made a beeps sound, revealing my search log.

Soon I was leaning on the wall with one of his books. It was opened on a diary entry that was dated on October 31st. I didn't understand the big deal about it but it talks about a holiday we don't celebrate anymore. It was about Halloween.

THE CHILDREN CELEBRATED HALLOWEEN THIS YEAR WITH A PARTY. I SUPPOSED IT'S ONE WAY TO FORGET WHAT'S GOING ON AROUND THEM, BUT TO ME IT FEELS FRIVOLOUS. WE'RE ONE OF THE FEW FAMILIES REMAINING WHO HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO DO SOMETHING FESTIVE, BUT THIS CHILD'S PLAY SEEMS WASTEFUL

Among the entry was a photo of a grown man with a woman that looks similar to my great great great aunt, Bethany Schreave Illéa. Standing with the couple were three children wearing costumes. There's a girl around my age who was smiling at the camera while there's two boys that look identical to their parents. I didn't understand what all of this means but I wanted to know more and maybe Gregory can help me discover what those answers are. I heard voices from outside and I soon made a beehive at the door with the diary in hand before someone caught me in here.

When I got back to my room, luckily my maids weren't there. I was running around my room, wondering where I should put the diary so my maids and Father couldn't find it. I walk over to my desk so I can find a makeshift cover for the diary cover. I placed the diary in my desk drawers, putting mountains of paperwork on top of it so it's obvious that it wasn't here. Later that evening, I asked my maids not to clean my desk.

Genevieve frowned at me while the other two eyed me suspiciously. "What are you hiding, Your Highness?" Gen shakes her head at me. "As you wish but don't feel like you need to hide something from us. We will not tell a soul."

"I do trust you," I wiggled my hands. "It's just that I don't want to get you in trouble because of my actions. If it feels right, I'll tell you but for now I need to do this on my own."

My maids didn't question my decision about my desk. They assured me they wouldn't touch it.