"Thank you for meeting me here, Ms. Copeland."

"Like I really had a choice," I said sarcastically, narrowing my eyes at two tall handsome men standing stoically a few feet away from me.

I tossed a vicious scowl to the two thirty-something guys dressed casually in jeans, a t-shirt, and long sleeve button down shirts. With their super cool sunglasses hanging in the dip of their shirts, the taller one with thick dark hair discreetly scanned open police room while the other one with a buzz cut kept his dark eyes on me. Their cool and silent demeanor ticked me off for some reason.

Thing One and Thing Two have been on my tail since I was discharged from the hospital this morning. After the two police officers easily caught Phil and I last night, they escorted us to the hospital, where the doctor insisted I stay the night so she could monitor for a possible head injury. Other than a few scrapes and bruises on my arms and pride, I escaped serious bodily damage.

I had no idea Thing One and Thing Two were standing outside my hospital room until I heard Phil shriek, "I'm her freakin' best friend! Did you know she's a complete monster if she doesn't get her blended caramel coffee?"

As soon as I opened the door, Phil used the brief distraction to slither her way inside the room as I studied either my new security team or the world's worst assassins. I settled on security when they greeted me with, "Your Majesty."

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you," an early forty-something Asian man said seriously, leaning back in a black leather rolling chair behind a simple modern desk. "My name is Wolfe Renning, but you can call me Renning. I'm head of the security team for the royal family. I need to ask you and Ms. Cooper a few questions about last night."

I bit down on my lower lip to suppress a cheeky grin because I was ninety percent sure I couldn't call him Wolfe with a straight face. Although with his predatory stare and impassive facial features, he kind of behaved like a wolf waiting patiently for the perfect moment before pouncing on the poor innocent prey.

Maybe the unusually spacious, organized, and brightly lit police station served as Renning's natural habitat to mentally stalk the bad guys. Maybe the modern and clean cut office area was meant to relax the alleged criminals and unwittingly push them into confessing.

While the combination exterior of concrete and red brick gave the police precinct a certain law enforcement vibe, the interior certainly didn't with its bright white walls and plush furniture in the waiting area outside the secured reception space.

The police station back home was busy, loud, messy, and dirty and filled with old metal desks and filing cabinets that had seen better days if not decades. While the officers were nice during my brief visit for a job assignment, the disorganized state alone convinced me to be a law-abiding citizen with pride.

"Look," I said with a heavy sigh. Despite sucking down my blended coffee in record time, I was exhausted. I just wanted to head back to the cozy hotel room I shared with Phil and take a long nap. "I'm sorry I broke the sword of destiny. I honestly didn't mean to. I just wanted the same right as the men and be given a chance."

I swore his mouth twitch slightly, causing his defined cheekbones to widen. Was this guy amused by our little caper?

"I agree the law regarding the sword is a bit antiquated," Renning said carefully, steepling his naturally long and tan fingers. "I'm glad you weren't seriously hurt. The sword has already nicked a few of my men."

I honestly couldn't stop my eyes from rolling as my mind had no idea where this pointless conversation was going. Were Phil and I headed to separate jail cells? Could this guy declare me queen of the country right now? Did I need to slay a dragon with the sword to prove my worth?

"Where's the sword now?" I asked. "Is it mine?"

Was I even allowed to bring an ancient sword through customs?

An even better question? Should I proudly display it or hide it somewhere in my one-bedroom apartment back home?

"The sword officially belongs to the country," the head security guard replied, answering my the last mental question. "A number of experts are now examining it at the historical society."

Scooting forward to the edge of my chair and resting an elbow on the desk, I lowered my voice as if I was sharing a well-kept secret. "How long does this charade last? My friend and I are volunteers assigned to help clean up Laudine. Our supervisor is already kinda pissed at us for our drunken mishap. And she's really not happy about us missing work today."

"Charade?"

"The whole sword in the stone myth," I said impatiently, refraining from rolling my eyes. "I can't be the first tourist to breeze through here and accidentally free the sword. Is there some sort of mechanical device inside the stone programmed to loosen the death grip every few months or years?"

Renning furrowed his dark brows and frowned. "You believe this is a gimmick to draw tourists to the islands?"

"Isn't it?" I raised one of my brows to challenge his facial reaction. "I might not know a ton about King Arthur, but I've watched enough movies to know the current royal family can't be descendants of Uther Pendragon."

"You think so?"

I shrugged both shoulders before slumping back into my chair.

"Ms. Copeland, what do you know about the Moneres Islands?"

Absolutely nothing, I thought immediately as my mind wandered back to when Phil first mentioned it about a month ago.

I had moped around for days when I had been let go as a photographer at a local studio due to declining business. Thanks to technology, smart phones, and super easy apps, everyone and their moms believed they were professional photographers. Even though senior sessions, family photos, and weddings packed the studio's schedule to the max for the senior photographers, additional appointments became nonexistent.

I suspected my job was in danger when the junior photographers' hours kept getting cut. Being allowed to come in late or leave a little early had been nice in the beginning, but the novelty wore off whenever I looked at the decreasing numbers on my paycheck.

I had briefly thought about hunting for another job at the time, but my confidence as one of the most experienced junior photographers on staff hid me from reality. My penchant for saving every little penny and the unemployment checks bought me time to find the right job instead of desperately grabbing the first one available.

To cheer me up, Phil suggested taking a vacation, but I vetoed the idea. My savings account sported a healthy balance, but I felt uncomfortable spending it on a tropical destination. Luckily, Phil's parents, who have been lifelong humanitarian aide workers, needed a few extra volunteers for a mission to the Moneres Islands after a strong storm with high winds heavily damaged two of the ten islands.

If someone had offered me a million dollars to correctly point out the islands on the map, I probably would've embarrassingly pointed to Hawaii or the Florida Keys. I would have never guessed the cluster of eleven islands sat between Canada and Ireland in the North Atlantic Ocean.

"Not much," I admitted, stretching out my short legs and noticing a few new rips. Free reminders of our epic crime spree.

"The islands are a well known secret among travelers that don't hesitate to spend extra to feel a bit worldly," Renning explained thoughtfully. "They like to believe they're more cultured when they've visited a place most never even heard of. The views. The adventures. The food. The experience of the islands are just as memorable as any other destination."

Unsure how to respond, I simply nodded and hoped he'd get to the point because my twin-sized bed back in the hotel was shouting my name.

"Do you believe in magic?" he asked, leaning forward and setting his elbows on the desk.

"I'm not stealthy enough to be a magician," I admitted, wrinkling my nose in disappointment. "I think my hands are too small to try the whole slight of hand thing. But I think magicians are incredibly talented and highly entertaining."

"I agree great ones are equally entertaining, but they also frustrate me. Because I believe in science and hard facts and truths. I believe there has to be some sort of explanation even for the extraordinary."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Ms. Copeland, the sword has been stuck in the stone ever since the island was discovered sometime in the ninth century. Despite the most famed tale of King Arthur, many historians throughout the years don't believe this sword has anything to do with him," Renning continued calmly as my stomach fluttered with a sense of apprehension. "For all they know, it could've been some random sword cemented in a rock. But early rulers didn't stop anyone from saying otherwise, and so, the legend sort of attached itself to the sword.

"I was born here, attended college in the United States, and returned to work for the royal family. I've seen the strongest of men take their turn. I've seen the best tools – the best construction equipment – in the world try to break through the stone only to be damaged or destroyed. I've seen men of God clutching rosaries and the Bible anointing men to give them strength."

The flutters in my stomach intensified as he meticulously described each unbelievable example.

"Scientists. Historians. Other intelligent experts. None of them could explain why the stone could not be moved by man or machine. Even though the belief in magic grew stronger among the people on the island with every epic fail, I still had no reason to believe. Until now."

I held my breath as his somber stare maintained my attention.

Either this guy was telling the truth or he was the world's best actor. Sorry, Jason Statham.

I desperately wanted to look away and drag Phil out of the station as humanly possible, but the curious cat inside me commanded I stay for the rest of the story.

"Somehow a tiny American girl says she accidentally plucked out the sword," Renning said, emphasizing the word "accidentally".

"One, thank you for calling me tiny," I said, sitting up a little straighter. Even though I was born in the United States to Korean parents, I was rightfully an American citizen but identified more as Asian-American and described myself as a short cute Korean girl. "Two, it was a freakin' accident. My best friend basically tossed me over the stone."

His dark brown eyes twinkled at me with amusement as his lips formed a self-assured smirk. "Oh, I know. I saw the footage."

Wait! What? My eyes widened in sheer terror and my heart took off for the marathon finish line at the thought of anyone else watching my less than stellar parkour move.

My hysterical shriek resonated throughout the open space, causing Phil and the two security guards to whip their heads in my direction in a state of panic. "What footage?"