Cold Flame

by Susan Copperfield

  “Well played, Terry. Well played.”

  “Act normally, handle your move on your days off, and hire a moving company to take care of everything. You can afford it, and if you tell your boss you’re moving somewhere closer to work so you’re more accessible, you might find yourself benefiting from some royal assistance with your housing issue, as your royal boss hates inefficiency and approves of proactive improvement. Also, tell him about your helpless infant rats when they arrive. He will likely make it easier for you to care for them, as he is a sucker for babies.”

  “He’s a sucker for babies?”

  “He has twelve children.”

  “Twelve?! How can he have twelve children? He doesn’t look that old.”

  “He’s fifty-five.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I spluttered. “He’s that old?”

  “Californian royals tend to look younger than they are. They consider it a family curse. His Royal Majesty of California had to convince his wife, when they met, that he wasn’t a teenager when he was twenty-four and head over heels in love with her.”

  “And they’re all like that?”

  “For the most part. I’m having trouble coming to terms with how uneducated you are about other royals.”

  “In New York, princesses are not invited to be in line to be the heir. It didn’t matter who was who; at most, we’d be a bargaining chip for New York for an alliance with another kingdom. That’s it. I’m worse than useless to New York because I’m a woman, and I’m not a pretty woman.”

  “Every time you say things like that, I want to beat the people who taught you to hate yourself so much.”

  Empaths made lying difficult, especially when he could feel the resentment and self-loathing I’d carried around with me my entire life. Unlike Sylvia, I hadn’t tried to find my self-worth in who I married. I’d just given up and run away.

  My parents were insane to want to pay ten million to bring me back to New York.

  Terry sighed. “You won’t be the first or the last royal who needs a therapist to accept past traumas and move on from them. His Royal Majesty of North Dakota was an emotional wreck when he was crowned king, and with good reason. His RPS detail is specifically trained to handle relapses in his mental and emotional health, and he goes to therapy sessions several times a week with his family. No one is expecting you to show up and be unscarred.”

  “Your empathy is a pain in my ass. I can’t just tell you everything is all right and get away with it,” I complained.

  “It’s part of why I was assigned to your case. His Royal Majesty of Montana was concerned you’d need help, and after speaking with your brother about the matter, he felt it was best if you had an agent who could see the truth. Your brother has his opinions on the matter.”

  “He probably thinks you’d have to see through my bullshit because I bottle things.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Is brutally murdering my brother an option?”

  “Despite your opinion, he does care about you, and he’s been worried.”

  “Next, you’re going to try to convince me California is a rainforest. I’m not buying that load of shit, Terry. He’s only interested in making sure he doesn’t rule New York.”

  “While he doesn’t want to rule New York, a substantial reason for this is because he believes you’re the better person for the job. He’s better in a diplomatic role, and he knows it.”

  Sometimes, someone said something so absurd my brain couldn’t handle it. “Excuse me, but did you just say Ian, my brother, who is an unforgivable menace on a good day, excels in a diplomatic role?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to need time and a great deal of alcohol to deal with this.”

  “You’re allergic to alcohol, Rachel.”

  Damn it! “It’s not an allergy. I just throw up when I drink it.”

  “Sensitivity, then. His Royal Majesty of Montana is convinced that the only reason you and Ian aren’t raging alcoholics is because you both get sick when you drink. He caught Prince Ian rather ill following a dinner party, thus discovering certain members of your family can’t handle any alcohol at all.”

  “It’s an adventure when you’re a royal. The chefs just love cooking with wine.”

  “He also found it interesting that only you and Ian have this disorder. The rest of your family doesn’t have it.”

  “The rest of the family is rather well known for hitting the wine after work.”

  “Or after noon,” my RPS agent muttered.

  “That, too.”

  “His Royal Majesty thinks you and your brother are strong candidates for concentrated empathy talents. The New York line has a lot of empath contributors in it without any confirmed empathic children.”

  “New York is where empathy talents go to die,” I reminded him.

  “I do not share that opinion due to your behavior. I’m a general empath. You have the classic symptoms of someone who could go either way. You’re not a general empath right now, but if your talent doesn’t emerge and find a proper bond, you could easily become one.”

  “I think you’re making that up.”

  “Rachel, you couldn’t bring yourself to kill two baby rats born in your laundry. That’s classic empathy. Empathy almost always demonstrates, in both concentrated and general ranges, as an unusually refined sense of compassion for others.”

  “They were just babies. I couldn’t kill them. It wasn’t like the other rat.”

  “If the other rat hadn’t startled you, I doubt you would have lit him on fire, and you were so guilt-ridden you’d killed a rat with your talent that you now have two rats named Snookums and Flamingo. And you’re going to have more rats, and the number of rats will likely be determined by the nest size, as I’m not going to kill baby rats. This is because I happen to be an empath myself. I’ll find homes for the remaining baby rats.”

  “You have just scored a lot of points.”

  “Empathy is what happens when magic believes having a conscience should be the default rather than the exception. There are empaths who aren’t ideal people, but it’s much harder to be a jackass when you feel the consequences of your actions.”

  I could believe that. “Let me guess. Empathy won’t develop in people trained from birth to be complete and total jackasses.”

  “As a general rule, you would be correct.”

  I pointed at myself. “Then why do you think I might have this? And Ian? Let me tell you, Ian is a jackass, Terry.”

  “Prince Ian’s easy to track; he met His Royal Majesty of North Dakota at an early age and saw, among two people his own age, what love actually looks like. He then wanted what King Adam had for himself. That’s the current theory. As King Adam has an exceptionally strong empathy talent, some people are beginning to believe it brushed off on Prince Ian when he was young.”

  “I haven’t had such a thing happen to me.”

  “His Royal Majesty of Montana thinks you are magic’s gift to New York, as he has no logical explanation for your potential empathy talent—or your empathy talent is going to be like King Patrick’s.”

  “Of Texas?”

  “Yes.”

  My eyes widened, and I sucked in a breath. “Me? Like a Texan? Am I going to start talking to horses next?”

  “No, I don’t think so. You talk to rats instead.”

  “Rats are intelligent, Terry. That means nothing. I’m just patient with them.”

  “A New Yorker with patience might be the real rarity,” he muttered.

  “I should get mad at you, but it’s really the truth. We are not known for patience unless money is involved.”

  Terry took another long look around my closet and heaved a sigh. “Try to find something larger, Rachel. If you need help moving, I can make some arrangements, although I’ll have to keep on the downlow about my activities. Please try to do the same.”

  “It’s not like I go to bars or other places adults frequent. People look at me weird
when I don’t drink alcohol.”

  “Please be careful.”

  “I will, but I think you’re being overly concerned. I’ve managed just fine on my own here so far.”

  “Before, people didn’t have ten million reasons to find you.”

  “While that’s true, I resent that my idiot parents are wasting that much money on me.”

  “It’s not a waste if it keeps a rebellion from erupting in New York.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “It’s not a waste if it keeps a rebellion from erupting in New York,” he repeated.

  “Hold on. Wait a second. Repeat this in a way I can readily understand. Assume I avoid the news, I have not been paying any attention to politics, and I spend most of my time wishing I could light my home kingdom on fire so it can’t bother me again in the future.”

  “Rachel, the entirety of the Royal States has come to accept that it’s probable you’re the only member of the New York royal family who is qualified to rule, and there’s growing support for the current monarchs to step down. They can’t step down without you.”

  “I am moving to Europe, I am becoming a peasant, and I am going to die an old hermit,” I announced.

  Terry lifted his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, likely in a futile effort to ward off a growing headache. “It would be near to impossible to smuggle you to Europe. While I would generally be game to do whatever is necessary to protect you, my principal, it’s too risky to try to sneak you into Europe, especially with an unpleasant number of people hoping to bag ten million dollars.”

  “My parents are insane to want to pay that much for me.”

  “Ten million dollars to prevent a civil uprising and potential rebellion is a pretty low cost, truth be told. They’re looking at the consequences of North Dakota’s civil war, and they’ve wisely realized a civil war, even a short one, would ruin New York’s prestige, wealth, and general standing for a long time. The only reason North Dakota emerged without long term social consequences is because of King Adam’s situation and the circumstances of the war, its short length, and the efforts the new royal family has put into recovering their kingdom’s economy. King Adam used a great deal of his personal wealth to help aid recovery efforts, and everyone around the world took note of that.”

  “Where New York is ruled by a bunch of assholes nobody actually likes.”

  “Prince Ian is respected, as are you.”

  “Nobody fucking knows me, Terry. I’m a nobody who has been seen in photographs and at a single auction while dressed like a skank in a gown.”

  “I want to argue with you, but it’s an apt description.”

  I sighed. “Do you know what happened the one time I participated in an auction?”

  “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “I got a pity bid, and he didn’t even show up. He wanted to remain anonymous. I’m so damned ugly a guy paid a ridiculous amount of money so no one would have to put up with me. I never went to another auction after that.”

  “I can understand how damaging that might be psychologically.”

  “Just a bit.”

  “That also explains your fixation on the lusty prince.”

  “Have I mentioned I love that I have corrupted you into calling someone the lusty prince?”

  “I’m concerned if I tell you his name and where he’s from, you really might kidnap him in the hope of receiving positive attention.”

  “Is it a bad time to tell you that I’m the only virgin in the entirety of the New York royal family? It’s that bad, Terry.”

  “While relevant and important information, I feel I needed some warning before you dropped that on me.”

  “I’m a walking disaster, and I’m pretty sure you need to notify New York they should save that ten million for my therapy bill.”

  “Well, there are other self-destructive behaviors you could have indulged in, although I’m really concerned about your diet and general health. King Adam of North Dakota had substantial health issues due to his mental health situation. What I know of your diet implies you likely have similar issues. You’re thin.”

  Damn it. “I spent my extra money on Snookums and Flamingo, and I refuse to apologize for that.”

  “Use your bank card. I’ll talk to the dieticians in North Dakota for recommendations on how to readapt you to healthier foods. Fortunately, King Adam’s situation has given the RPS a framework for addressing issues like yours, so I should be able to quietly put something together without involving a royal physician in an official capacity.”

  “Doctors hate me.”

  “I’m developing the opinion you believe everyone hates you, Rachel.”

  “They don’t?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  Why had I gotten the sassy, feisty, and completely out of his right mind RPS agent? “I think you need a therapist as much as I do.”

  “I’m just making you aware that these concerns will be put in your file, and I’ll be anonymously suggesting that New York approach their attempts to recover you with caution, and perhaps that a reward system might work better to bring you back.”

  “Now you’re treating me like my rats.”

  He looked me in the eyes and replied, “But would it work?”

  Damned feisty RPS agent. “I think it depends on the bribe.”

  “New York would consider things like relocating the lusty prince for your amusement. We both know they’re underhanded and will do whatever is necessary to get what they want.”

  “I hate they would do such a thing, but would the lusty prince go along with it?”

  “It concerns me that he might.”

  “I can check the internet and look up the list of eligible royal bachelors to find out who he is if I really want.”

  He chuckled. “I was wondering why you hadn’t, truth be told.”

  “I haven’t been rejected at this point in time, and I’m rather okay with that. I see no need to actually pursue him. The last thing I need is the only damned man in the Royal States who needs a major eye exam realizing I’m a walking disaster and hating me. I’m quite happy with knowing a lusty prince viewed me as someone worth lusting over, thank you.”

  Terry bowed his head. “I should be grateful you’re open to discussing your mental health, but I’m really concerned, Rachel.”

  “I’m the most functionally dysfunctional woman in California. I’ve got this. But everyone’s out of their right mind if they believe anyone will miss me when I’m gone. In that regard, I’m just like my sister.”

  “No, you’re really not. Right now, everyone thinks of you as the one who did what no one else was brave enough to do. Even His Royal Majesty of Montana has remorse over how the situation with your sister was handled. He had no say in how New York handled her punishment, but…”

  “But he spoke about her after her death. No one else did.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And his wife was with him.”

  “There was no love between Her Royal Majesty of Montana and your sister, but she views your sister’s death as the tragedy it is. The general feeling is that you’re the one who has paid the highest price for your sister’s crime—even more so than Her Royal Majesty of Montana.”

  “But she nearly died,” I protested.

  “And you have been completely alone for years because you took the burden of consequence on your shoulders. Her body healed. Your heart hasn’t. Her Royal Majesty of Montana, because of your sister’s actions, has a life that makes her happy. Every day, she is surrounded by people who love her, a family she adores, and she has a husband who would give her the world if allowed. What did you gain beyond loss?”

  Sitting on my bed, I crossed my arms and leveled a glare at Terry. “Are you sure you’re not a psychologist? I decided everything on my own. I’m alone by choice.”

  “Because you, as a probable empath, can’t abide gross injustice. It’s a common symptom of empathy. It’s what RPS agents are trained t
o look for when checking for empaths now. Ironically, we also take a closer look at people who are inherently kind as possible empaths.”

  “Leeches,” I complained. “Latching onto people without even so much as a please or thank you, then making a mess of things. I’m talking about you.”

  “I’m a generalized empath, Rachel. I can’t actually latch onto you.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  “General empaths sometimes form bonds with people, but it requires a great deal of intimacy and close interactions. I don’t have any relationships like that at the moment. I figure I’ll enjoy my work as an RPS agent until you’re permanently settled, and then I’ll start looking for someone who will be a good partner for me.”

  I took a few moments to digest that, furrowing my brows. “You enjoy following me around?”

  “You’re actually a good principal. You keep to yourself, you’re good at self-defense, and you aren’t inclined to stir up trouble for the sake of stirring up trouble. His Royal Majesty of Montana will ditch his detail at his whim because he thinks it is fun to push our buttons. Comparatively? You’re an angel, and that’s considering your requirements for future therapy.”

  “I’ve been doing okay.”

  “Rachel, you’ve done better than okay. You’re still here, and you’re doing your best. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to be swept under a rug or asked to hide that, beneath the surface, you’re not all that okay. It’s not your fault New York lacks good RPS agents.”

  “They do their jobs, don’t they?”

  “A good RPS agent cares about their principals being happy, Rachel. In your entire life, has a single one of your agents cared about you?”

  From the day I’d turned five and my father had sworn he’d light my ass on fire if I ever cried in front of anyone, I hadn’t. As always, I bottled the hurt away so it couldn’t surface.

  “Don’t answer that,” he said, his tone gentle. “I already know. Tomorrow, go do what you do best and make sure you ask your boss about moving somewhere closer to work that has more space. I’ll look into finding you some rat babies you can mother.”

  “I do have a tendency to mother my rats, don’t I?”