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The corridork, uually a symbol of grandeur and ability, seemed to hold a strange, almost disquieting energy today.

Chandeliers glittered as always, but their light seemed to cast longer shadows.

The paintings on the walls, once familiar and comforting, appeared to be watching me with a strange intensity.

I shook off the feeling, attributing it to my own nerves and excitement.

Nesta had been on my mind constantly, and the idea of spending time with her was a welcome distraction from the palace’s underlying tension.

I could almost picture her smile, the way her eyes lit up whenever she saw me. The way her growing baby bump would point right at me.

As I turned a corner, the sensation of unease deepened momentarily. I paused, glancing around the empty corridor.

Nothing seemed out of place, but the air felt heavier, almost as if it were charged with an unseen tension.

Dismissing it with a shrug, I continued on, my whistling now a bit softer but still cheerful,

The closer I got to Nesta’s room, the more my spirits lifted. Thoughts of her were like a balm to my soul, soothing the strange undercurrent of unease.

I could almost see her painting, her hands deftly creating something beautiful, her concentration complete and serene.

Finally, I reached her door and paused, taking a moment to compose myself. I knocked gently, but there was no response. Frowning, I knocked again, a bit louder this time. Still nothing.

“Nesta?” I called out, my voice tinged with concern.

I pushed the door open slowly, peering inside. The room was empty, her art supplies scattered but no sign of her. My heart began to race.

I stepped into the room, looking around for any sign of where she might have gone. Her easel was there, with an unfinished painting still drying, but Nesta was nowhere to be seen.

The bed was neatly made, and everything seemed in place, but a sense of foreboding gripped me.

Turning back into the hallway, I spotted a random maid walking towards me, carrying a basket of linens,

“Excuse me,” I called out urgently. “Have you seen Nesta?”

She shook her head, her expression puzzled. “No, I haven’t seen her since this morning, your highness. Is something wrong?”

My mind raced. Nesta wouldn’t just leave without telling anyone, especially not with the baby on the way. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach.

“I need to find her,” I said, more to myself than to the maid.

I started down the corridor, checking the garden, the kitchen, and all the usual places Nesta might be. But with each passing moment, my worry grew. She was nowhere to be found.

Finally, I thought of her art room. It was one of her favorite places, and maybe she had retreated there to paint.

I hurried to the art room, my heart pounding in my chest. Reaching the door, I knocked, but there was no answer.

I pushed the door open, hoping to find her there, but the room was empty.

Her supplies were neatly arranged, and there were new canvases lined up, but Nesta was nowhere to be seen. Panic began to set in. Where could she be?

I turned back into the corridor, my mind racing with possibilities. Has something happened to her? Was she in danger? I needed to find her, and quickly.

I made my way towards the main entrance, the unsettling feeling in the air grew stronger. Something was definitely wrong. I needed to alert the others and organize a search.

But first, I had to check one more place.

I hurried towards the garden, hoping against hope that I would find her there. The garden was usually a place of tranquility, but today it felt ominous, the shadows longer and the air heavier.

But she wasn’t there either.

I clenched my fists, my mind racing. I had to find her. There was no other option. Something is also wrong and I could feel it in my bones.

I walked briskly through the palace corridors, heading towards my mother’s wing. She had been the one to suggest the baby shopping trip that Nesta went on.

I had been tied up with work and couldn’t go with them. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but when I checked, it wasn’t her.

Nesta’s phone had gone off about two hours ago, and I had been calling to check on her, but there had been no answer. Last I heard, she had gone to try some human food and was on her way back home.

A sense of unease grew within me as I neared my mother’s quarters. The palace, usually a place of familiarity and routine, felt different today–tense, almost electric with an unspoken worry.

As I approached, I heard raised voices coming from my mother’s room. One of them unmistakably belonged to Rowan.

I quickened my pace, my heart pounding in my chest. Rushing into the room, I found a scene that sent my stomach plummeting.

Maria was on the floor, her face streaked with tears, looking utterly devastated. My mother, who I hadn’t seen cry in a long while, stood by her, her expression a mix of confusion, shock, and sorrow.

Rowan was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear, his face a mask of barely contained rage.

“What happened?” I demanded, my voice trembling.

Maria looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy. “The driver took her away,” she said, her voice breaking. “I stepped out of the car to get us some ice cream, and when I came back, they were gone.”

My brain struggled to process her words. Took her away? It didn’t make any sense. How dare anybody take her away from the palace?

“Who took her?” I asked, my voice rising. “What do you mean, took her away?”

Maria shook her head, sobbing. “I don’t know. I just… I just turned around, and they were gone.”

My mother stepped forward, placing a hand on Maria’s shoulder. “We’ll find her,” she said, her voice trembling with an emotion she rarely showed. “We’ll bring her back.”

Rowan stopped pacing and turned to me, his eyes blazing. “I’m on the phone with the head of security,” he said, his voice tight. “We’re tracking the car. We’ll find her.”

My legs felt like they might give out beneath me. Nesta was gone. Someone had taken her. The words echoed in my mind, surreal and horrifying.

“How could this happen?” I whispered, more to myself than to anyone in particular.

Rowan’s jaw clenched. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice hard. “We’ll get her back.”

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of the situation settling over us like a suffocating blanket.

I looked at my mother, who was usually so composed and unflappable, now visibly shaken. Maria’s sobs were the only sound, a heartbreaking reminder of how vulnerable we all were.

“We need to do something,” I said, my voice firmer now. “We can’t just stand here,”

Rowan nodded, his expression grim. “I’ve already got people on it,” he said. “We’ll find her. I promise.”

The determination in his voice gave me a sliver of hope, but the fear and helplessness still gnawed at my insides.

Nesta was out there somewhere, possibly in danger, and it was all I could do to keep from falling apart. She is going to be scared shitless.

“We should check the cameras,” I said, trying to think logically. “See if we can find out where they went.”

Rowan nodded. “Already done. The security team is reviewing the footage.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “We need to find her,” I said again, more to myself than anyone else. “We need to bring her home.”

My mother stepped forward, her eyes filled with a fierce determination. “We will,” she said firmly. “We’ll do whatever it takes.”

Rowan’s phone buzzed, and he answered it quickly, his face tense as he listened. After a moment, he hung up and turned to us.

“They’ve got a lead,” he said. “We’re going after them.”

I nodded, feeling a surge of relief. “Let’s go,” I said, ready to do whatever it took to get Nesta back. We moved quickly, the sense of urgency propelling us forward.