Chapter 4

Just as Ethan raised his hand to call security, a flurry of motion erupted near the ballroom entrance.

The Valorian Head of Security, Gregor, his face grim, pushed through the crowd, followed by frantic embassy staff.

"Mr. Hayes! Ambassador!" Gregor's voice was urgent, cutting through the buzz around Sarah.

"Have you seen His Royal Highness, Prince Liam? The King is extremely concerned!"

Ethan's hand froze mid-air.

His arrogant smirk faltered.

Jessica looked annoyed at the interruption of her drama.

The focus of the room shifted instantly.

A missing prince.

That was real news.

A search began, hushed and efficient.

Staff fanned out, their expressions tight with worry.

The gossipy socialite forgot all about Sarah's "stolen" dress.

Even Ethan looked momentarily distracted, though a flicker of irritation crossed his face at being upstaged.

Sarah's heart leaped into her throat.

Liam.

She scanned the room, her earlier annoyance with Ethan evaporating, replaced by maternal panic.

Where had he gone?

He was just by the dessert table.

She spotted a secluded alcove, partially hidden by a large potted palm.

A flash of dark hair.

Calmly, deliberately, Sarah walked towards it.

Liam was there, small and mischievous, carefully trying to dip a finger into an abandoned glass of champagne.

Relief washed over Sarah, so potent it almost buckled her knees.

She knelt beside him.

"Liam, darling," she said softly, her voice firm but gentle.

"What did I say about wandering off? And champagne is not for little princes."

Liam looked up, startled, a guilty flush on his cheeks.

"But it looked sparkly, Mama."

Jessica, who had followed Sarah with a suspicious glare, saw them.

Her eyes narrowed.

She shrieked, her voice shrill and accusatory.

"There she is! Accosting the Prince! Ethan, this woman is clearly unhinged! First theft, now harassing royalty! Security, get her out of here! Now!"

An event security guard, eager to impress or perhaps just flustered by Jessica's command, rushed forward and grabbed Sarah's arm.

"Ma'am, you need to come with me."

His grip was rough.

Before Sarah could react, a small, furious voice erupted.

"Let go of my mother!"

Prince Liam, all of five years old but filled with royal indignation, kicked the guard squarely in the shin.

The guard yelped, stumbling back, his hand flying to his leg.

Liam stood protectively in front of Sarah, his small chest puffed out.

"Don't you know who she is?!"