The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 33

**A/N: I think I know what some of you are going to point out as a plot hole/error in this chapter, so rest assured that I have already noted it and I'm planning to fix it in edits, I just don't have the time to re-work the entire thing right now! Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!**

Isabelle kicked, spat, and screamed like a wildcat as the pair of guards hauled her back to her suite. They emerged from the service corridor in the vacant debutantes' wing, chucking Isabelle inside her chambers before slamming and locking the door behind them.

Screaming mad, she sprinted for the service door, trying each of the three in the suite to no avail. Blinded by the sheer terror of being imprisoned in the palace, she tugged on the call bell so frantically that Lissa came bursting into the room, only for Isabelle to snag the service door before it could close again. She was halfway out when a liveried guard stepped into her path, halting her progress and forcing her back in.

"King's orders," the young guard said apologetically. "I'm sorry my lady, but you're to stay in your suite."

When he shut the door, Isabelle snapped.

"Lissa, go find Sam," she said, staring at the service door that had just been shut in her face.

"But my lady, he-" Lissa started.

"I said go find him!" Isabelle screamed. "Papa is dying, I can't be imprisoned here!"

Lissa swallowed whatever protest she had, bobbing a curtsey and knocking on the service door. The same guard opened it hesitantly, allowing only Lissa through before closing it again.

Hurrying through the darkened corridors, Lissa hoped she wasn't too late. What she'd tried to tell her mistress was that Samuel Winters and his men were leaving, if they hadn't left already. Cedric, Mr. Winters' valet, had told her as much over breakfast. The pair of them had gotten used to sharing whatever palace secrets they learned in their native, Northern Gallic tongue, so none of the other servants could understand. Cedric said that Sam had been summoned home and had been instructed to remain at the Winters' city residence until the rest of his father's men had prepared to ride for Umberwood.

According to Cedric, they were simply awaiting one last delivery of provisions before they left, a delivery they expected no later than sundown that night.

Lissa ran, shoving past maids and earning a few curses in her haste to find Cedric. Normally, the valet would spend his time in the servants' hall, socializing with the others over dinner while his master attended the ball. Now that Sam had left the palace, Cedric had spent all his time organizing the provisions for the Winters' men return north, barricaded in his room as he pored over lists.

Bursting into the servants' hall, she cursed her luck when the ruddy northerner was nowhere to be found among the diners.

"Have you seen Cedric?" she asked, following one of the other valets as he passed her on his way out.

"Last I heard he hasn't left his room all day," the man said. "What's the big hurry? Eager to say goodbye to your beau before he flees north?"

"Jealous doesn't become you, Malcolm," Lissa said, swallowing whatever pride she had left. "Show me to his room."

Malcolm waggled his eyebrows, but complied nonetheless.

Lissa could have fainted with relief when Malcolm stopped in front of a door with candlelight still flickering through the crack. He knocked, running a cheeky look over Lissa before Cedric pulled the door open.

"What's...Lissa?" he said, his brows creasing as he took in the maid hovering in the mens' dormitory.

"Where's your master?" Lissa asked, charging into the room to slam the door behind her. She didn't intend on airing her mistress' news before Malcolm's listening ears. Cedric gaped at her as she closed the door, but it was Lissa who jumped when a voice spoke from the corner.