Death of a Prince | ✓

EP 14: GO BIG OR GO HOME

EPISODE FOURTEEN

'go big or go home'

     

      

LEON WOKE UP a couple more hours later.

Still foggy and hunkering the evidence of a painful hangover, I promised an explanation once we were at a far safer distance than the vaguely smiling Genevieve Rothschild who Leon met with wide eyes and a choke. Not in lieu to be spied on, I briefed him on the basic premise of what happened from his gap of memory. From the hotel abduction to being welcomed into Rothschild's apartment.

After we got much of our bearings together — and new clothes courtesy of Genevieve — she met us at the living room with four suited men. Leon immediately tensed up, shielding me with his body, while Genevieve merely rose a hand.

"I'm done with the both of you, as I'm sure Ms. Cain is done with me. Right now, my only priority is to get you to Cordelia's safe space, and that window of opportunity is a very slim one. Dom's death had made them wary, especially of those in attendance that night. They should never get wind that you and I have met. Not until the very last second at least."

Leon exhaled. He was at a lost, but he was adapting quickly. "I can't call her can I?"

Genevieve smiled. "I've already made contact, young Song. All you have to do is follow my lead to the very last detail."

"Then you'll disappear from the face of the earth, no doubt as something Dominic promised." Leon's eyes darkened. "I know this place. Dominic owns this place."

"How astute." She merely blinked. "Dominic picked the right candidate to solve his murder. I'm sure your sister and your girlfriend can help you piece together the puzzle, but right now it's better for you leave and for me to hide. That's what Dom would've wanted."

     

- - -

      

The slim window of opportunity was in Bloomsbury, specifically in front of a painting of a room in the British Museum. Cordelia was waiting for us in a pencil red skirt, a flowy white top with a red ribbon, matching gloves and heels, and a dramatic fascinator on her flowing black curls.

To say this was a dramatic reunion was one thing. But Genevieve's guards stopped us as Genevieve herself stood next Cordelia. We weren't close enough to hear or make ways with Cordelia's expression under the hat and veil, but Genevieve remained firmly smiling until she had waved us away, walking back just as we were walking to.

Just as we passed each other, she grasped my arm. Leon stilled beside me, grinding his teeth.

"Easy, young Song," she whispered. "This is for Wendy." She bent down to my ear. "You're a good one, Ms. Cain. If you can't bear to leave him be, then take him with you and leave. This society will destroy the man you adore. Take it from someone who went through it twice."

She let it me go and just like that, Genevieve Rothschild, a suspect, a lover, and a grieving widow walked away from us and was just... gone.

Leon groaned the stiffness of his posture away by melting practically on my side. "I feel ill letting her leave just like that."

Cordelia snorted. Gracefully, might I add, which was an odd description in its own, but she snapped a fan and started aggressively fanning herself. Under the net veil, we could see much of a pointed upper lip. "What do you think I felt when you suddenly disappeared from my radar? 'Leave them at a hotel', he said. 'They'll be safe', he said. That conniving little snake. I didn't know he'd rope his girlfriend into this. 'Trust me,' he said. Men."