It was Prince Jackson.
His gaze was fixed on Portia, unwavering. A man stepped beside him, murmuring low into his ear.
"Your Highness, the crown princess's food has been tampered with."
Jackson didn't react at once. His eyes remained on Portia, and when he finally blinked, the softness in them was almost painful.
"And Marilyn?" he asked quietly.
"We still cannot locate her," the man replied. "But we're doing all we can."
Jackson's jaw clenched, but he kept his voice calm. "Find her as soon as possible. Until she returns to take her rightful place as Crown Princess… Portia cannot leave."
The man hesitated, then asked, "Is that why we're mixing contraceptive powder into her food? So that Miss Marilyn can take her place, and the current crown princess holds no claim to the heir?"
Jackson's expression didn't change, but something in his voice dropped. "Yes. For my brother's heart," he said, almost tenderly. "He belongs with Marilyn. Not Portia."
