“Cooperate how?” I asked.

“The trust,” Vance said. “The offshore transfers. She had to move the money to keep him quiet.”

A headlight flickered from the direction of the south gatehouse.

The sedan’s door clicked open, and a tall figure in a dark overcoat stepped onto the gravel.

I had to move.

I pulled Vance’s tie tight around his wrists, securing them behind his back in a temporary bind.

I grabbed the silver drive, slipped it into my pocket, and stood up.

“If you stay here, the palace guards will find you in five minutes,” I told him.

I turned back into the shadow of the hedge maze before the driver of the sedan could spot my face.

I ran back through the cedar corridor, my boots digging into the soft earth.

My ankle protested with every step, but the drive in my pocket felt like a shield.

I bypassed the central courtyard and found the service entrance to the East Wing.

The heavy oak door was unlocked, leading into a stone-walled pantry filled with silver polishing cloths and copper pots.