I’d also have a chance to prove I was her match, but I’d have to start getting into shape if I wanted to keep up with the RPS agents working hard to earn a place on my detail.
All in all, I’d made quite the mess for myself.
I sneezed, cursed, and hoped my cold stayed manageable enough during the interview process. Christian took over my desk while I stretched out on my couch and flipped through my briefing papers.
By the third page of palace staff adjustments, I lost my will to live. By the fifth page, they bored me straight into unconsciousness.
“What the hell did I do to deserve the flightiest damned heir on the planet?” my father roared.
I hit the carpet with a startled squawk. Papers scattered, fluttering to the floor around me while my heart pounded so hard I worried it might burst out of my chest and make a run for it. “Damn it, Dad!”
A coughing fit caught me by surprise, and when the worst of it subsided, my father offered me a glass of water, which I guzzled. I caught my breath, got to my feet, and placed the glass on my desk so I wouldn’t smash it into my father’s head.
“You all right?”
“Despite you trying to scare me to death, I’m fine.” Mostly. Maybe.
“You ran away from home again,” my father complained.
Why wasn’t it legal to murder my father? I sighed and bowed my head. “Coming here isn’t running away. And if I was going to run away, I wouldn’t bring Christian with me. It’s his job to return me to the castle.”
“You were inaccessible. Same difference.”
My father was an idiot. “Christian?”
“Your Majesty, he made it to page five before he passed out. I left him to sleep. We’ve made good progress on arranging his next RPS detail. Perhaps you should give him some credit. He’s been taking his work seriously. He’s still recovering. I’ve been with him the entire time.”
“Maybe if you’re still not feeling well, you should tell us.” My father dropped onto my couch, arched a brow, and stared at me. “Or at least tell me you’re leaving the castle. That would be nice. I spent two hours searching the castle for my heir.”
“Why didn’t you call Christian?”
My father’s head of detail chuckled. “He did, Your Highness. I told him you were fine.”
“Well, Christian’s right. I’m fine. Tired is an acceptable state. I did some work and took a nap. Maybe I should’ve made it further than page five before taking a nap, but that’s a different story.”
“You’ve decided what you’re going to do about your RPS detail problem?”
“Yes.” I hid my grin and waited for my father’s patience to fray.
“Can’t you give your old man a break, Kel?”
“My sisters are probably so very happy they’re girls. You just baby them.”
“I’ve been told I’m a stalker numerous times today,” he conceded.
Taking pity on him might buy me some peace and quiet, so I said, “Christian knows what I want to do about my detail issue. I’m letting him do his job without getting in his way. What’s so important you came out to Chicago?”
“Gail invaded our home and is looking for you. I wanted to warn you. I don’t think she’s going to be accepting no for an answer anytime soon. The girl’s lost her mind. Grégoire lost his temper with her and made a scene—and he made it clear she only wanted you for your title. Let’s just say that didn’t go over very well. She claims you still love her.”
“That’s just what I need. Why now? I’ve barely spoken to her in two years. Why would she even think that? I would’ve thought my policy of avoiding her whenever humanly possible would’ve been enough to convince her we were over.”
“I don’t know, but she wants to get near you.”
“Christian?” I asked.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Extend Gail an invitation to join the training session. If she can’t keep up, she’s obviously not going to meet my standards—and I expect she’ll wash out fast. Present it as a chance for her to prove herself.”
The Gail I knew had an allergy to hard work and exercise, and she opted to stay thin by starving herself whenever possible. I gave it three or four days before she gave up. Better yet, if she couldn’t recognize me in with the RPS agents, I doubted anyone could.
“That’s rather ruthless, Your Highness.”
“It is, but I don’t care. In case you’ve forgotten, she left me. I don’t have anything to prove to her. She’s up to something because Gail is always up to something. The only question is what.”
My father grunted, narrowing his eyes. “Risk assessment, Christian?”
“I’ll look into the situation and do a full evaluation, Your Majesty. I’ll also make certain there’s a team present when she’s on our turf.”
I rubbed my forehead and willed my growing headache to take a hike. “Perhaps people could stop extending her invitations to the private wings of the castle. She’s not my girlfriend. At no time in my future will she ever be my girlfriend again. If people other than me would figure this out, I would be very appreciative.”
“His Highness seems to have developed a preference for athletic women who can cross the street without his assistance,” my father’s head of detail stated.
I admired his neutral tone.
“He’s finally acknowledged he has a type?” my father blurted.
“Maybe if you’d stop bothering me so much about it, I’d be more willing to give you updates whenever I find a woman attractive. Actually, no. I won’t. You might lower yourself to relocating her at your leisure. Kidnapping is illegal unless you’re a principal of a bunch of asshole RPS agents determined to marry you off.”
Christian snickered.
“Kid, you haven’t been much of a talker since the day you were born, and exactly no one was surprised when your first word was no. I hope you have a child just like you.”
“There won’t be if I waste all of my time dodging Gail,” I pointed out.
“Harsh. Point taken. I’ll make sure her access to the private wings of the castle is revoked. Any other demands?”
“Don’t scare me awake.”
“I was testing if you’d shift. Fear is an excellent trigger. That’s how I figured out I’d gained control of my talent.”
“Dad, for that happen, I need to meet the right woman. I’m trying something, so could you please keep your nose out of my business for a change?”
“It’s really hard to keep my nose out of your business when you say things like that. You should know better than to say things like that to me. I’m a cat.”
“Please give me a break already.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I sighed.
Chapter Five
My father haunted me, refusing to leave me alone until I surrendered to his demands and agreed to return to the castle. To make it clear I wasn’t dead, I headed downstairs so the general public could see me up and about. Christian muttered curses over the lackluster security but went along with the idea, forcing my father to cooperate.
In the lobby, several security guards argued with someone, their bodies masking the subject of their interest. Aware Christian would take me out like a sack of grain if I got into any trouble, I angled closer to hear what was going on.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you can’t bring swords into the building.”
Had sweeter words ever been spoken by a guard? A woman with swords caught and held my attention. I grinned and edged closer, hoping the mark on my side had led my foul-mouthed huntress straight to me. When Christian followed but didn’t interfere, I strolled closer. “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
The security guards jumped, turned, and snapped salutes. I caught myself before rolling my eyes. With them focused on me, I was able to get a view of the woman they’d stopped.
I liked my huntress in leather but jeans did her justice. While she’d never fit in with the higher castes in her worn-out t-shirt, t
he logo faded beyond recognition, I liked how comfortable she looked in it. Her swords hung from her hips, and a faint blue haze leeched from the tops of their sheaths.
“It’s a basic security issue, Your Highness,” Piers, the senior of the lot, replied. “She’s hesitant to turn her swords over for safe keeping until she’s finished in the building.”
Her eyes widened, and I savored her stunned expression. To mask my interest in her, I focused on her weapons. “All right. Swords are weapons. You planning on stabbing anyone with those, ma’am?”
“Fuck no.”
My father’s sigh almost broke my resolve. If I started laughing, I’d start coughing, and if I tried to cough and laugh at the same time, I’d end up on the floor again. “I’d hazard a guess that a lady like you wouldn’t be bringing swords here without a reason. Part of your talent?”
“Who the hell you callin’ a lady?”
If I could listen to her make such exclamations every day for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy man. “You.”
She looked me over like I looked her over. “And you’re a Your Highness? Did you hit your head?”
I probably had, but I’d keep hold of some remnants of my pride. “An unfortunate accident of birth. You take your swords everywhere?”
“I guess.”
“While stabbing me might be tempting, would you show me your blades without cutting me to pieces?”
She hesitated, glancing at the guards. “Sure?”
“Unless she cuts me to pieces, just ignore that she has swords,” I ordered.
Christian and my father sighed, and I wondered which one of them would crack first. Piers chuckled, shook his head, and raised his hands in surrender. “If anything happens, I’m blaming you, Your Highness.”
With a shrug and puzzled expression, she drew one of her blades, turned it, and offered me the hilt. Up close, the blue light radiated from streamers of flame enveloping the steel from guard to tip. The leather wrapping the hilt warmed my hand. Taking a few steps back, I tested the weapon’s heft and weight like I’d been taught. I’d never expected to need the lessons, but I appreciated the chance to look somewhat competent.
I’d handled some nice swords, but I hadn’t seen anything quite like it. I turned to my father. “I think I need one of these for Christmas, Dad.” Satisfied I’d expressed my appreciation of the blade’s craftsmanship, I gave my huntress my undivided attention. “Do you know the smith, ma’am?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
“Any chance I can get your contact information so we can talk about your swords?”
“You really must have hit your head.”
I laughed. “Probably. It’s a bad habit.” Reversing the blade, I offered her the hilt. “Thank you for letting me look at it. It’s an exquisite weapon. Christian, please get her information—I’d love to see those swords in action. If possible, can you arrange a demonstration? This blade is far too beautiful to hide.”
After she reclaimed her sword, I thanked her, dipped into a bow, and headed for the elevator. My father followed, waiting until we turned the corner to ask, “What was that about?”
“I was curious about something.”
“Like what? How to get stabbed in a public place and cause an incident?”
“What sort of woman is gutsy enough to bring swords into a government building? That’s definitely part of it. And look. I didn’t get stabbed. It’s like she doesn’t actually have it out for me.”
“She’s probably a lost tourist.”
I laughed at the thought of a tourist running around Chicago with two swords. “Probably.”
At least I could trust my father to readily accept my excuse; for the next while, he’d approve of anything that restored his sense of normality, and an interest in sharp, pointy objects counted.
“Was it a nice sword?”
“I don’t know where she got it, but I want one.” While true, the swords’ wielder interested me more. She’d never polish into a queen most expected, but I had no doubt she’d keep me on my toes. If anything, my interest in her fulfilled a family tradition of odd choices of queens.
Most had no idea a family curse picked the queen, and she was never what the kingdom needed. She was always what the king needed to conquer his beast.
She was what the king needed to thrive. Had I been wiser, I never would’ve clung to Gail for so long. Everything would’ve been different.
It took ten minutes for Christian to return, and he glared at me. “Are you really certain about this? That woman is absolutely uncouth.”
As I had no doubt she’d filled Christian’s ears with vocabulary he’d rather not hear, I asked, “But did you get her information between the bursts of profanity?”
“She thought the idea ridiculous, but yes. I have her information. She’s leaving the kingdom soon.”
That would put a kink in my plans. “Do a full evaluation so my father won’t whine as much.”
“You’re overly optimistic on your odds of that happening, Your Highness.”
“If you leave my father’s det—”
My father clamped his hand over my mouth. “Absolutely not. Ignore that suggestion, Christian. You’re not leaving my detail to join his. No.”
I tried to bite him without success.
“Your Majesty, please be nice to your heir.”
He lowered his hand. “I spent years looking for you. My son can’t have you.”
“Since I can’t keep a detail, give the lady with the swords a chance. She can’t possibly be any worse than agents who won’t stick around.”
“No,” my father snapped. “Wait. She’s a woman and you haven’t run away yet? I’ve changed my mind. Yes.”
My father must have been dropped on his head as a baby. I closed my eyes and wondered how to encourage him without looking like I was encouraging him.
When I opened my eyes, my father was halfway back to where the woman stood near the security guards. “Miss? Miss? A moment of your time, please?”
“What the fuck do you want now?”
The sight of my father taking on my foul-mouthed huntress, who was likely out for my blood, would be a cherished memory for the rest of my life.
According to Christian, my huntress’s name was Evangeline, and her conversation with my father was doomed from the beginning. Either she had no clue he was the king or simply didn’t give a damn, but within five minutes, she went to the security guards informing them of a harasser and probable imposter.
At that point, I started laughing and couldn’t stop. Between coughing fits and gasping for air, I snickered and chortled. Christian hovered, sighing while debating which royal to protect. He stuck with me, as my father earned having his ass handed to him by the woman he was annoying. “This isn’t promising.”
“It’s perfect.” I sucked in a breath and fought to control myself. “Look at her. She has zero care he’s royalty. She might even face off against Montana without hesitation. RPS agents need that quality.”
“As do queens,” he conceded.
“If we do a trial contract, we can strike the fraternization rules from her paperwork. Then, if I flirt with her, I’m the only one who gets into shit for it.”
She was already a good influence on me, and I liked it.
“We’d also have to strike the language rules.”
“If we—”
“Are you fucking mad?” Evangeline demanded so loud everyone in the lobby stopped and stared.
I moaned my laughter, leaned against the wall, and struggled to stay on my feet. I had no idea what my father said, but she flung her hands in the air and marched straight for me.
I was about five seconds from collapsing into a manically laughing heap, but I straightened and struggled to contain my mirth.
“Hey, you. Tell this menace to stop fucking bothering me already, would ya?”
“I’ve been trying my entire life without success.” It amazed me I got the entire sentence out without choking,
coughing, or bursting into another fit of laughter.
“You poor bastard. Do you need a rescue?”
“It’s entirely possible.”
Evangeline glanced over her shoulder with a scowl. “Is he really a king?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Does that mean I can’t hit him?”
“If you work with the RPS for me, I’ll have it to your employment papers you can hit him at least once during training scenarios.”
“And you? How about you? Do I get to hit you?”
“It’s a part of the job. The agents get to take turns tenderizing me.”
While that wasn’t quite true, it would be for however long she was involved with the RPS. Christian would not be happy with me, but I figured I’d emerge better equipped to withstand a beating—and better trained in avoiding beatings in the first place.
Evangeline thrust out her hand. “Deal.”
I foresaw much pain, suffering, and trouble in my future, but that didn’t stop me from shaking with her. “I look forward to working with you.”
She turned to Christian, and in a solemn tone, she said, “I’m not sure I can beat sanity into either one of them, but I’ll try.”
“I wish you the best of luck with that, Miss Evangeline. You’ll need it. Having dealt with both for many years, you’ll find His Highness is the most pleasant of the royals here.”
Evangeline tightened her grip before releasing me. “Interesting. What the fuck do you fucking folks want with a bitch like me?”
I had so many reasons, but I decided to go with the third on my list. “You’re not afraid of my father. That’s a good reason on its own. You’re comfortable with yelling at him. It usually takes months to get new agents comfortable using their authority on royalty. I expect you’ll get to yell at us often. My father gets yelled at daily.”
Huntress Page 6
