(Jenny's POV)
Breakfast is silent the next day – well, for me anyway. I'm the only one having it. Ophelia is still making a recovery – Niklas says that she'll be up and about by tomorrow – and I haven't seen Astrid since we came back from Schonan yesterday afternoon. She didn't show up for dinner so I had to have my meal in my room, by myself.
A part of me wished that I hadn't told her. I should have kept my mouth shut and not said anything. But then again, now that she knows that the person who wants her gone works in the castle, we'll be able to find out whom holds the biggest grudge against her.
The door opens, startling me. Astrid enters the room. She looks a little worse for wear – her tense, pale face and the dark circles under her eyes tells me that she didn't get much sleep.
"Good morning, Astrid," I say.
"Morning," she replies in a mumble. She takes her seat and quietly nibbles her breakfast of porridge and wholegrain bread. (I checked the food before I dug into my share and it's safe to eat.)
"How are you today?" I ask.
"Fine," the princess utters quietly.
The silence is deafening as we eat our breakfast. It goes on for five minutes – and I can't stand it!
"I'm so sorry, Astrid!" I blurt out.
"Pardon me?" she says, putting down her bread and turning to me.
"I shouldn't have told you about who is after you. I should have kept it to myself until I was absolutely certain. But now I've gone and opened my mouth, and I've upset you and made you even more scared and I just like to say that I'm really, really sorry!"
Astrid sits still for a moment. I hold my breath. "Oh, Jenny," she says. "There's no need to apologize – I'm glad you told me. I'm just upset because the person who has worked for me and my family for many years wants me dead – and I do not know why. I treat everyone with the same respect as I would with you. If I do anything wrong to them, I would apologize. I just can't get my head around the fact that someone would resent me so much they would want to kill me."
"Well, Niklas is going to have a talk with them today and get to the bottom of it himself. There's also something you should know."
"What is it?"
I take a deep breath. "There's a chance that the assassin may have taken your uncle," I say. "The Prince Regent may have stumbled upon the assassin's plans and tried to call the authorities, but instead he was taken and the assassin made it look like that your uncle left abruptly on a business trip, but he's being kept somewhere until you're out of the way. Where, I do not know. But know this: when I find the assassin, I will do everything humanly possible to get the truth out of him on the whereabouts of your uncle."
Astrid seems to have perked up after my little speech. "Once again, Jenny, you have restored my faith knowing that you will find the person responsible for their dreadful crime," she says. "Thank you."
I respond with a smile. "You're welcome."
We carry on eating our breakfast, the tension in the air now evaporated. Just as we finished our meal, there's a knock at the door. Niklas comes in, telling Astrid that she is needed in the Great Hall for another coronation rehearsal.
I watch Astrid prepare for the ceremony, with help from Niklas about what she has to say and do. The rehearsal goes on all morning.
"Well, that's rehearsals done for until this evening," says Astrid when she's finished. "I wonder what we can do this afternoon." After a short pause – "Oh, I know! Niklas – have a car prepared for me. I'm going to pay a visit to the Hallmans."
"Very good, Ma'am," he replies and heads out of the Great Hall.
"Who are the Hallmans?" I ask.
"They're a family of farmers who live on the other side of the woods," Astrid replies. "I haven't seen them in weeks because of what's been happening, and I figure I better visit them before the coronation. But first, a change of clothes is needed. You'll have to get changed too."
We both head up to our rooms and quickly get dressed in farmer-friendly outfits. Well I say farmer-friendly, I'm dressed in a patterned tunic with a denim cropped jacket on top, blue jeans and tall grey boots while Astrid is wearing a tweed jacket with a white shirt underneath, beige jodhpurs and black riding boots. I get the feeling that we are going to do more than help out on the farm. But the car is here and there's no time for a quick change with my watch-communicator, so I follow Astrid out of the castle and into the car. Once we're buckled in, the driver pulls out from the kerb and takes us to the farm.
xxoOoxx
A pleasant forty-five minutes later, we arrive at Green Meadows Farm, the home of the Hallmans. The farm consists of a yellow-painted cottage, a small, rundown yard, a few barns and acres of paddocks. As the name suggests, the farm is surrounded by a green meadow – and filled with cows. In the distance is a group of trees – the woods.
The car stops at the gates and Astrid tells the driver that we'll walk from here and to fetch us in three hours. We climb out of the car and head towards the gate. Astrid opens the squeaky wooden gate with its crooked hand-painted sign and enters the small sunny square yard with its flowering weeds sprouting up from the cracks in the concrete. We're greeted by the squawking of chickens and the welcoming yaps of a dog, which runs across the yard towards Astrid.
Astrid kneels down and greets the dog. "Hello, boy! Did you miss me, boy? Did you? Of course you did because I missed you, too!" she says as she strokes and pets the dog while he gives happy barks and licks Astrid's face.
I slowly come up to them. "What's his name?" I ask.
"Oluf. He's a Norwegian Buhund," says Astrid. "Pet him – he doesn't bite."
I pat the dog's head. "Hey, Oluf."
The dog looks at me weird, but then he starts to lick my hand.
Astrid smiles. "It looks like he likes you."
Just then, a plump, bearded middle-aged man, wearing a red checked flannel shirt, dungarees and flat cap comes jogging towards us. "I'm so sorry about Oluf…" he stops, and then beams. "Well, look who it is. Hello, Astrid!"
"Hello, Wilhelm," she responds, waving. "It's been a while."
"Yes it has. But it's so good to see you. Who's your friend?"
"This is Jenny Brownstone. Jenny – Wilhelm."
"How do you do," I shake the farmer's hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. Come on, let's head inside. The rest of the family will be happy to see you."
We follow Wilhelm across the yard and into the cottage. We enter the kitchen where a short and stout middle-aged woman with grey hair and glasses is setting up the table.
"Hey, Annette, guess who's just turned up?" says Wilhelm.
The woman turns and her face lights up. "Astrid!" she exclaims.
"Hiya, Annette," she says. "Sorry I haven't visited in the last few weeks."
"Oh, that's all right, kjære. I know how busy you've been with your coronation coming up in a couple of days."
"Oh, Annette, this is Jenny. Jenny, this is Annette, Wilhelm's wife."
"Hello," I say. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise. I'll have to set up two more plates – you two are just in time for lunch. Have a seat."
"I'll go and fetch Jonas," says Wilhelm.
"No need to, Papa, I'm right here," says a voice, and a muscular man with a tanned complexion, brown eyes, and black hair that has been spiked-up enters the room. He appears to be average height and a couple of years older than me, and has quite wide shoulders and an oval-shaped face with a strong jawline and a squared-off chin. He is wearing a bright checked shirt and denim jeans. "I take it I'm just in time for lunch."
"You would be correct, Jonas," says Annette. "Have a seat."
"Well, well, well. Look whose back," Jonas says as he takes a seat next to Astrid. "Hey there, pretty princess…" He sees me. "And her equally pretty friend."
I feel my cheeks burn and grin sheepishly like an idiot at the compliment.
"Jonas, this is Jenny. Jenny, this is Jonas, Annette and Wilhelm's son," says Astrid.
Jonas and I say our hellos to each other just as Annette places lunch on the table: celery root, carrot, and potato gratin. While Wilhelm and Annette have their coffee, Jonas, Astrid and I have blueberry juice. During our lunch, I learn how Astrid first met the Hallmans. A few years ago, one of their horses escaped and somehow managed to find its way to the royal garden. Astrid found the horse and looked after it, while her father attempted to find the owner. When Wilhelm came to pick up the horse, he expressed his gratitude by letting Astrid come visit the horse. And from that day, she has been visiting the Hallmans to help out on the farm.
When we finish having our gratin, we have blue cheese and blueberries salad, and then for dessert we have blueberry upside-down cake.
It's the most glorious meal I've ever eaten. Annette is right up there with Jonathan and my mum as best cook in the world!
When we finish, Astrid and I help Annette stack the plates while Wilhelm and Jonas get back to work. After the plates are washed, dried and put away, Annette, Astrid and I step out of the cottage and cross the yard to eight wooden stables, four of which are being used by horses that are waiting at the gates. As soon as they see us they set up a chorus of whinnies in greeting.
"Caspian!" Astrid cries, running to the small and sturdy grey horse and nuzzling him. "How are you, my elskling? I've missed you so much." She turns to me. "Jenny, meet my gorgeous Northlands horse, Caspian."
"Hello, Caspian," I say as I slowly approach the horse. "You're a fine looking animal, aren't you? Majestic even."
The horse looks to me, acknowledging me. Astrid beckons me closer. Then she takes my hand and guides it to Caspian's shoulder, stroking it. After a few seconds, she lets go, leaving me to stroke it by myself.
"Yeah. That's it. I'm your friend," I say.
"Yes, he is," says Astrid. "Let's get him fed – the others too."
She takes the headcollar from the hook outside Caspian's stable and slips the headgear on him. Then Annette comes with a bucket and hangs it on the stable gate. Caspian starts to slurp and slosh on his feed – as do the other horses: a chestnut Frederiksborg horse called Gandalf, a seal brown Swedish Warmblood called Henning, and a black Icelandic horse called Thor.
As the horses have their lunch, Annette and Astrid fetch the grooming kits from one of the stables that is being used as a tack room and start to brush the horses, with me helping out.
Once the horses are sparkling and enough time has passed after they'd been fed, Astrid takes Caspian out of his stable and tacks him up. When she finishes, Astrid vaults onto the horse from the ground.
"Ta-dah!" she says.
"Woo, nicely done, Astrid," I say, clapping.
"Thanks. Now it's your turn."
I stop clapping. "Er, what now?"
"We'll gonna teach you how to ride a horse," says Annette, holding Gandalf by the reins in one hand and holding a black riding hat in the other. "You are best suited with Gandalf as you're an inexperienced rider and Frederiksborg horses are not selected for sensitivity."
"Are you sure it's safe?" I ask, feeling a tad nervous considering I've never ridden a horse before.
"Do not worry. Gandalf is a very friendly and well trained horse. Just remember – the horse can sense when you are scared or nervous, so being calm, well-mannered and not overly aggressive is always a general rule of thumb to keep in mind for a beginner horse rider like you."
Annette hands me the helmet and I put it on. Then she brings Gandalf to me. I give the horse some quick strokes on his shoulder, and then climb the fence and slide onto the saddle on Gandalf's back.
"There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" says Annette.
"No. No, that was good. I'm good," I say. "Well, that was the easy bit. Now how do I get him started?"
"Gently squeeze Gandalf's side with your legs. That should signal him to walk," Annette instructs.
I take a deep breath and squeeze Gandalf on – and that's all it takes to get him to walk. Once the horse starts to move forward I can feel my legs relaxing.
"Oh, my God, I'm doing it! I'm riding a horse!" I say excitedly.
"Yay!" Astrid claps, as does Annette.
It takes more than two hours for me to learn the basics of horse riding: the walk, the trot, the canter, and turning and circles.
It's a lot to take in, but I'm starting to get the hang of it. Maybe I should sign up to some lessons when I return to England. Who knows when I will need a horse for future missions?
"Well done, Jenny!" says Astrid after I make Gandalf go from a trot to a walk. "You're learning quickly."
"Thanks!" I reply. "I never knew how fun and exciting it was riding a horse."
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," says Annette. "Now that you've learnt how to slow down a horse, you will now learn how to…"
A loud honk cuts through the tranquil air, startling Gandalf; he suddenly bolts. From the cries and thudding hooves that I hear behind me I guess my horse isn't the only one.
I feel out of control as Gandalf thunders past the turnout paddock and into the field. I grab a handful of mane, lean forward, lifting my weight out of the saddle and pray that I don't fall off and die.
But I don't think I'm praying hard enough as straight ahead is a gate that leads into the woods.
And there's no way I can stop!
I close my eyes and hold on for dear life.
"Oh, my God!" I scream at the same time as Gandalf lets out a squeal as he flies over the fence. I open my eyes and trees whir by, a blurred curtain of green and brown. While I'm happy to be alive, I have to stop Gandalf.
Suddenly Caspian is at my shoulder, racing Gandalf.
"Don't worry, Jenny – I'm here!" Astrid shouts. "Listen to me carefully. To ask the horse to halt, stiffen the lower back and at the same time squeeze gently with the legs whilst stiffening the hands and gently pulling the reins back towards your body!"
I do exactly what she says; sitting deeply in the saddle, with my whole body weight pushed down onto my heels and gently pulling back the reins. Gandalf halts – but he halts so suddenly that I slide off my saddle and fall to the ground.
"Jenny!" Astrid cries. She halts Caspian to a stop, jumps off him and rushes to my side. "Jenny, are you all right?"
I lie still for a moment or two to get my breath back. "Yeah," I say. "I'm fine."
"You're not hurt or broken any bones, have you?"
I slowly move my toes, then ankles, then fingers, then wrists. "Nah, I'm good – no joint pains or broken bones. I'm not bleeding, am I?"
"I don't see any cuts or scrapes."
"That's good." I sit up very slowly. It doesn't look like I'm about to pass out at any moment, so I take that as a good sign and slowly stand up. "Well, that was thrilling… not," I say.
"I would like to offer my sincere apologizes," says Astrid. "It was all Karl's fault – he's come to pick us up, and he thought the smart way to get our attention was to honk the car horn, not knowing that horses get spooked by sudden and loud noises."
"That's fine. I'm just happy to be alive and in one piece. Come on – let's head…" I stop when I see we're in a clearing; an open space between the evergreen trees. There's an old building made of rough grey stone blocks with a chimney at each end of it and slits for windows set high in its walls.
"What is that?" I ask.
"I have no idea. But it's been here for a very long time," Astrid tells me. "Perhaps it's a woodcutter's hut. Or a gamekeeper's lodge or something."
"Or the wicked witch's cottage from Hansel and Gretel," I quip. "I'm gonna take a closer look."
Astrid looks at me and bites her lip. "I'm not sure if you should."
"It'll only be for a minute."
I walk slowly towards the door, which is stout, wooden and thick with dirt. It has a broken padlock but only one hinge, and is hanging twisted and jammed in the doorway.
"This just needs a bit of a helping hand," I say to myself, and I run at the door and shoulder it hard, as if I'm tackling someone at rugby. (Not that I've ever played the game!)
The padlock snaps off and the door swings there for a moment, and then drops down flat with an almighty crash on to the floor behind. The noises causes the birds to fly into the air in terror and the horses to get spooked once again – but Astrid quickly gets them under control.
"Sorry," I say. "But at least I've scared off any ghosts."
I tiptoe into the hut. Inside, it's just one long room with six rusty iron bedsteads in a row down one side. The strange thing is, instead of it being full of rubbish and dirt and spiders, it's tidy and reasonably clean. There are no cobwebs or dust, and the floor didn't have as much as a dead leaf lying on it.
Someone must come in here regularly to keep it clean, I think as I look around. But if they do, I wonder how they get in because to my reckoning no-one can have come through this door for about a hundred years. It needs someone of my superior strength to hammer it down.
I walk from one end of the room to the other where I find a large table. An elegant leather box stands on the table – it looks brand new, but there's some wear and tear on the corners. I peer down at the box. There's no lock. I reach out and open the box. Inside is a black leather book, the cover labelled 'King Andreas'. I take out the book and I'm about to open it up when I hear Astrid call for me.
"What's going on in there?"
Quick as a flash, I put the book back in the back and close it. Then I pick up the box and I come out of the hut.
"So? Did you find anything in there?" Astrid asks.
I hold up the box, making sure she doesn't see the latch. "Just this," I say. "It's locked so I can't get into it. I'll find out what's inside when we get back. Speaking of which, our driver's waiting for us – let's head back to the farm."
We mount back onto our horses and we set off down the path that leads through the woods, our horses pulling at the reins, a bundle of energy jig-jogging all the way.
The path takes us to the end of the woods and we canter across the field straight onto the drive that leads to Green Meadows Farm. Annette rushes up to me, asking if I'm all right and checking me over when I dismount from Gandalf. Afterwards Astrid and I return Caspian and Gandalf to their stables and we say our goodbyes to the Hallmans – with Annette giving us a slice of blueberry upside-down cake as a parting gift. After Astrid gives Karl the driver a scolding for startling the horses and nearly causing me an injury, she and I climb into the car and we head back to Harvonia Castle.
xxoOoxx
We're greeted by Niklas when we return to the castle. He informs us that Ophelia is feeling much better and has been asking after us. Astrid and I head up the stairs and knock on Ophelia's door.
"Come in!" she says, and Astrid and I enter the room. Ophelia is propped on her bed, under the duvet, wearing a cream silk pyjama shirt. There's a tray of food on her bedside table: boiled eggs, orange satsumas, a small slice of cake and water to drink.
"Hi, guys!" says Ophelia when she sees us.
"Hi, Ophelia," Astrid and I respond. Astrid sits on Ophelia's bed. "You're looking better," she says.
"I'm feeling better. The doctor says I should make a full recovery this time tomorrow. So how have you've been? What's been happening?"
"Well…" Astrid takes a deep breath. "There's been a development in Jenny's mission to find my assassin. She thinks that it's someone who's employed in the castle."
"You mean one of the butlers or maids is plotting an attempt on your life?"
"I'm afraid so."
"And that's not all," I interject. "I also believe that the assassin may have kidnapped the Prince Regent as he may have found out what the assassin was doing, and it explains why no-one has heard from the Prince Regent in the last few days."
"So what you're saying is the person who may have taken Prince Regent Sigurðr is the same person who's trying to kill Astrid?" says Ophelia, and I nod. "That's… unbelievable."
"You can say that again."
"But you shouldn't worry, Ophelia," says Astrid. "Jenny will soon have this case wrapped up before the crown is placed on my head. I have complete faith in her."
"As do I," says Ophelia. "I'm glad MI9 someone chose someone as efficient as you to take this case."
"Thanks," I smile.
"So what's that you're holding?"
"Oh…" I realize I still have the box in my hands. "Just something I found in some hut in the woods today."
"You went into the woods?"
"We didn't mean to," Astrid remarks. "But Karl spooked Gandalf and he galloped into the woods, taking Jenny with him."
"Do you know what's inside?"
"No, sorry," I lie. "I didn't have time to check. It's probably some time capsule thing that someone left behind a long time ago. I'll open it later."
There's a knock at the door. Ophelia permits the person entrance. The door opens and Niklas enters the room.
"Sorry to disturb you, Your Highness," he says, "but you are due downstairs for your rehearsal."
"Thank you, Niklas," says Astrid. She stands up. "I'll see you later, Ophelia."
"See ya, Ophelia," I say, and I follow Astrid out of the room and down to the Great Hall for Astrid's rehearsals.
The rehearsal lasts four hours, and Astrid and I head upstairs to get ready for dinner. But first I take the box up to my room. And the question is where to hide it. There's no doubt that the assassin will head over to the hut and find the box missing and they'll come looking for it. I need to find somewhere to hide the box – but where? There are too many obvious places to put the box in and I know the assassin will find it before they have a chance to blink.
But what if I put it in plain sight? What if I place the box somewhere where the assassin will find out… only for its contents to be replaced with something else?
And that's when I get an idea.
As soon as I enter my room, I head for the wardrobe and take out the A4 notepad and measure it on top of the box. It's the right size. I open the box and take out the book that's inside and replace it with the notepad. Then I place the box on the dressing table in plain sight. Now what to do with the King Andreas book. No doubt when the person finds the box and see that what's inside is just a notepad, they're gonna come back and tear my room apart.
Again, I get another brilliant idea.
I take off my watch and place it on the book. Then remembering about the bug in the room, I head into the bathroom and I activate the cloaking device, making the book invisible. I don't want the assassin knowing just yet that I hold the book that they want. I come out of the bathroom and go over to the bed. I lift the mattress and place the book under it. I just hope the assassin doesn't look under the bed when he or she is turning my room upside-down.
After a quick shower and another outfit change, I head down to the dining room and join Astrid for dinner. This time we're having slow-cooked honey-coated vegetables and pickled potatoes and stuffed bread, with guava yoghurt for dessert. Once again I scan Astrid's food for any poisonous substances – and once again, nothing is found.
Afterwards, Astrid invites me to the parlour for a nightcap – but I decline, telling her that I'm going to have an early night and she should too, considering that she needs the energy for the all-day coronation rehearsal. Astrid complies and we both head up to our rooms after we say our goodnights.
Just as I suspected – as soon as I enter my room, I immediately notice that the box is gone. Someone came into this room while I was having dinner. But did they come back when they realized that there's a notepad inside? Everything looks like it should be in the right place, but is the book still under the mattress? I go over to the bed and lift the mattress. I have a feel around under the mattress until I feel the leathery texture and my watch-communicator on top. The book is still here. Looks like the assassin didn't look in all the right places I take the book and my gadget out from under the bed and head into the bathroom.
"Deactivate cloaking device," I say – and the book becomes visible. I come out of the bathroom, go over to the bed and sit on it and open the book up, my fingers thumbing through the pages.
On every page are photographs and newspaper clippings about King Andreas. There are various articles about him: when he became King, his marriage to Queen Celestine, the birth of Astrid, the death of the Queen, and the death of him, as well as everything in-between. Why would someone who wants to kill Astrid keep a scrapbook about her father?
Something falls onto the floor. I bent to pick it up. It's a photo of a young woman smiling at a little sleeping baby in her arms. It must have come from the scrapbook – but why is it in the scrapbook? I look behind the picture and find some writing on it.
"Shona and Ebony," I read.
More questions buzz around in my head: who are they? Is this Shona or Ebony person the one conspiring to murder Astrid? And why does she have a scrapbook of King Andreas? There's only one way to find out.
I hop off the bed and go over to the wardrobe and take out another notepad from my bag (it's always good to carry spares) and I go to the dressing table to write my message to MI9. The message is mostly about the scrapbook I found and to find out who the people in the picture are. MI9 can run an analysis in the photograph and they'll be able to find out who those people are. After holding the message and the picture, I take out my Camera Contact Lens and get ready for bed. I take the scrapbook and the photo and hide them under the mattress. Then I creep under the covers, turn out the lights and I fall asleep.
xxoOoxx
I wake up in the middle of the night feeling thirsty. Luckily I keep a glass of water on the bedside table. I prop myself up on one elbow and reach out for the glass – only for me to knock it over.
"Wonderful," I mutter to myself. I switch on the light – and get the shock of my life.
The water that I knocked onto the floor is burning a hole in the carpet and the polished wood floor. I can hear an audible crackling sound and see the mists forming. I instantly realize that it's not water…
It's hydrochloric acid.
"Shit!" I cry, now wide awake. I take a deep breath and cover my nose so not to inhale the acidic fumes and quickly grab my watch-communicator and hop off the other side of the bed. I nearly rush out of the room but do a double take and reach for the scrapbook under the bed. Then I rush out of the room, closing the door behind me and taking several deep breathes.
"Bloody hell," I gasp. "I can't believe someone tried to kill me."
And it's not just someone – it's the assassin. They've found the notepad I placed in the box rather than the scrapbook and in retaliation they replaced my water with hydrochloric acid. And as soon as I'm out of the way, they can conduct a proper search. But they're gonna be very disappointed when they find out that the book is not in the room, but I'm still alive and holding it.
But while I'm glad that live to see another day, I have another problem on my hands. Where am I going to sleep? My room is obviously a no-go. Unless, maybe… Maybe I could crash with Astrid.
I strap on my watch-communicator and activate the torch. I walk down the corridor until I reach Astrid's room. I hide the scrapbook in the rear waist of my pyjama bottoms and knock on the door. After several minutes of standing and knocking, Astrid opens the door.
"Jenny? What's wrong? What are you doing out there?"
"Something's happened," I say. "Can I come in?"
Astrid allows me entrance and I step into the room.
"So what's going on?" she asks after closing the door.
"Someone tried to kill me," I answer, not wanting to beat around the bush. "The very same person who's been trying to kill you."
"What?! How?"
"They went into my room and swapped my glass of water with hydrochloric acid. It must have been sometime during dinner. Had I not knocked over that glass, I would be dead."
"But why is the assassin coming after you?"
"I must be getting close to finding out who's conspiring to murder you. I've sent a message to MI9 before I went to bed and I should be receiving a reply sometime within the next twenty-four hours. And until that time, we need to stay together – and I need a place to crash tonight. With your permission, Astrid, can I stay in your room?"
"But of course you can, Jenny! You don't need to ask. And you're right when you said that we need to stay together – we also need to help each other out. So for the next few days, this room is yours as well as mine."
"Astrid, you are an absolute star! Now the only problem is sleeping arrangements…"
"The bed is big enough for the both of us."
"Oh. Well, that's the sleeping arrangement sorted. And speaking of sleeping…" I let out a yawn, "we should get back to bed. We've got a long day tomorrow and we need our beauty rest."
"Agreed."
Astrid and I hop into bed, with me taking the right side and Astrid taking the left. As I get comfortable under the duvet, I remove the scrapbook from my rear waist of my pyjama bottoms and slip it under the pillow, with one hand on it so I know it'll be there when I wake up. I'll have to find a more suitable hiding place in the morning for the scrapbook – providing that the killer doesn't have a death wish themselves to sneak into the princess' room and look for it. I just need to wait a couple more days and catch this would-be assassin before they strike.
I hear soft snoring behind me. Astrid has gone back to sleep. And it isn't much longer until I'm asleep too.