A Guiding Light_A Royal States Novel

by Susan Copperfield

  They’d taken enormous losses striking a blow to North Dakota’s economy, and their reputations would suffer, too.

  The expected chaos and ugliness hit my disposable email address, and I set up another email account to forward messages from investors willing to play the game. The others were deleted. To add insult to injury, I enabled an auto-responder declaring there’d be no responses to any messages received.

  I’d watch the market for the first signs of true recovery, and I’d watch for New York’s reaction. If they didn’t act as I wanted, I’d begin the next phase of my plan, which would put out a call for stock purchases and a date to use New York’s tactic against New York.

  I gave it a week before I had to issue an ultimatum, which would begin the third phase of my plan.

  I didn’t know if my ploy would work, but it would send a message that there were those willing to attack New York’s sovereignty in retaliation for attacking North Dakota’s sovereignty.

  One fact bothered me. Had I been Veronica’s consort, I wouldn’t have been able to make any plans. In a way, only my eviction from my family and the severance of the royal betrothal could have put me into the position needed to strike out against New York. Had I remained Veronica’s betrothed, I doubted anything would’ve been different. North Dakota had a total of three princesses and two princes, and they all had the royal family’s talents. The most important one couldn’t be seen with the naked eye or detected through any known talent or measurement method.

  Their blood amplified the magic of their children. The lines lucky enough to win a North Dakota royal enjoyed at least one generation of amplified power. Most believed it had something to do with Fargo itself that preserved the talent, so North Dakota was mostly left to its own devices so its royal family’s magic would be preserved.

  I believed it, although I wondered—and worried—there was more to their gift than anyone understood.

  My talent had grown when it shouldn’t have, and there was only one person who could be responsible: Veronica.

  Marshal’s claim his sister wanted me in her life had cast doubt on everything, and the more I thought about it, the more I believed he was right. I hadn’t been the one to keep holding on.

  That left only her.

  When I’d been tossed to the curb, my talent had only been strong enough to form a bond, barely. When I’d first gone to him, Dr. Berriner hadn’t broken any laws treating me.

  My talent hadn’t been a leviathan then. It had steadily grown in defiance of everything, refusing to die.

  Had Veronica’s magic played a part? Had she been the one to cling to the bond when I hadn’t?

  Her talent wasn’t supposed to influence mine. Had she changed herself—and me—to overcome the challenges keeping us apart? Had I been wrong for so many lost, wasted years?

  Could we have changed anything?

  I monitored the stock markets of two kingdoms and wondered where I’d be if only I’d fought a little harder and clung to my hopes a little tighter. I worked late into the night and found no answers.

  I needed an escape from reality, but I couldn’t bring myself to visit the waterfall despite my decision to build my new home close enough to watch it through the windows. Instead of calling my chosen architect, Tanya Cartwright, I sent her an email with the lot number, specified I wanted a view of the waterfall without disturbing the river, and gave her specifications for a firebreak to minimize the risk of wildfires. I requested a quote for a sketch and build estimate, gave her instructions to email me back with her quotes, a phone number, and a note I wanted construction to begin as soon as a blueprint was finalized.

  To point her in the right direction, I sent her links to give homes I liked, each one featuring clean, slick lines, big windows, and a focus on peace and quiet, the ideal retreat from the real world. As my true bit of wishful thinking, I told her I wanted the property to become a comfortable family home for at least three children.

  Some dreams refused to die, and I’d always liked the idea of three children, an older one to guide the way, a middle one to pick fights with the older one, and a youngest one we’d inevitably spoil.

  The we part was what I wanted most of all.

  While I waited, I needed to make a better plan—and decide what to do about the unsettling worry that I held equal blame for being unable to move on with my life. I’d clung to Veronica’s memory and my grief.

  If she had, too, there was no escape for either of us, which supported Marshal’s claim I’d need to do something, be it kidnap her or put in effort to turn her into my ally. If I could claim her as mine, New York would lose again.

  Between her family, mine, and the New York royal family, Marshal had been right about one thing: there were a lot of people who’d want me to disappear without a trace.

  I needed a will and a lawyer, just in case. Damn it. How had my life become so complicated?

  Ah, right. I’d invited a prince inside instead of kicking his scrawny ass to the curb. I had abandonment issues, and I feared they influenced every aspect of my life.

  After I handled filing my will, I needed to reevaluate my approach. There was one person who could put an end to the insanity before I pulled the trigger on New York: Prince Ian.

  I courted more trouble than I knew what to do with. Why couldn’t I leave well enough alone? I knew why, and maybe if I did what a certain young prince wanted, I could have it all.

  One fear and one question remained.

  If I allowed myself to harbor hope, what would happen if I failed, if I couldn’t reclaim what I’d lost?

  What would happen if I did?

  Chapter Six

  My mass purchase of stocks made the news, and according to most outlets, it meant North Dakota had a thriving investor base, something no one expected, not even New York. Some touted it as a financial victory.

  Others called it a miracle.

  A few, including the wise, the wary, and the jaded, wanted to know how such a backwater kingdom could have any investors capable of pulling off the mass acquisitions.

  Unfortunately for me, someone had noticed North Dakota had two major investors who hadn’t sold out, and someone—likely Alfred Knoxwin—had dropped names.

  Adam Smith was no longer a secret, and the only thing protecting me was how damned common my name was. If someone looked into the corporation with the second half of the shareholdings, everyone would realize I owned the whole shebang.

  Killing my old phone number would slow searchers down, but the quiet wouldn’t last forever. It wouldn’t last long at all, if my guess was correct. As soon as someone began digging, they’d learn I’d done more than hold out when the going had gotten rough. I stood in a political mine field, one primed to blow.

  The law stood on my side, but only in letter. In court, the letters of the law ruled, but I’d spit on the spirit of it. New York’s attack would take the kingdom months to recover from; I needed to release small numbers of stocks on a daily basis, only releasing new stocks when the old had sold, inching the price upward. The rules of the free market wouldn’t let me restrict any public sales, which didn’t help matters for me.

  If I wanted to keep the stocks in the hands of North Dakotans, I’d have to give them away—or do as the royal family had wanted to do, taking advantage of loopholes to make offers on the private market for public stocks.

  I’d have to check the new shareholders daily to determine their origin. If another kingdom attempted to heavily invest in North Dakota’s banking sector, I’d have to halt sales. Until I could rewrite the rules governing the banks, I had to be careful.

  Maybe the demand would work in the economy’s favor.

  To clear my head and escape from the reality crashing down on my shoulders, I left my room to walk to the nearby park.

  “Are you Adam Smith?”

  I recognized the man’s voice. Damn it, Alfred Knoxwin was a persistent blight. Unfortunately, I remembered the rules of elite society, and ignoring him wou
ld only add to my problems. I turned to face him, struggling to keep my annoyance behind a neutral mask.

  He barely came up to my elbows, and my eyebrows rose at our difference in height. “What do you want, Mr. Knoxwin? I’m not selling my shares.”

  “My client wants to meet you.”

  His client was likely a royal pain in my ass. “As I’m refusing to sell my shares, there isn’t anything for us to talk about.”

  “You can’t refuse.”

  I laughed at that. Of all the people in the kingdom, I was the lone person who could refuse—and I would. “As a matter of fact, I can. You can try to get a court order, which I’ll have overturned. I’m not interested in meeting your client.”

  “You have majority control over our banking sector, Mr. Smith. We’ve identified at least sixty percent of all banking shares are owned by you or one of your corporations. You have—”

  “I have a responsibility to the banks I own majority shares in, and that involves overhauling banking share restrictions moving forward. If I sell like you want, there’s no way to prevent a future hostile takeover of this scale—or prevent someone from doing as I’ve done. Also, your percentages are off.”

  Alfred Knoxwin frowned. “How off?”

  “I own ninety-one percent of the shares, all legally acquired. When I sell, it’ll be in a controlled fashion after the laws are rewritten forcing better restriction and control of trade matters. I see no need to meet with your client. If your client wishes to buy shares, I’ll be doing a controlled release to gradually restore market values.”

  He stared at me as though seeing me for the first time. “Why?”

  “Because I need to clean up your client’s mess, obviously. If your client is actually concerned about the financial well-being of this kingdom, government regulation of critical market sectors is mandatory, else men like me can swoop in and do whatever they want. Your client got lucky this time. Luck like this only happens once. I’ll be issuing demands of every bank to limit shareholders to no more than five percent across all entities and removing allowances for corporate-held stocks. Limitations will be established for owners and employees of corporations, too. I recommend your client pushes for similar government-level restrictions. New York uses those terms for a reason. It just happened I had the funds and corporations ready to make my acquisitions when the sellout began. If your client comes up with sane regulations, I’ll consider a meeting.”

  “I haven’t even told you who my client is!”

  I snorted. “You didn’t have to, Mr. Knoxwin. It wasn’t hard to discover your connections to the royal family. I’d rather have no dealings with the head of our government. I prefer to maintain my status as a private investor.”

  “But why not? It’s an excellent opportunity—”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “But I was ordered to bring you—”

  “No.”

  His eyes widened. “You really won’t come.”

  “It’ll be a cold day in hell, Mr. Knoxwin. Let this serve as a lesson to you. A free and open market is just that. It’s free and it’s open. It isn’t fair. If the royal family wishes to protect North Dakota’s interests, then it needs to change North Dakotan laws, creating sane laws and regulations. I recommend using New York’s market as a guide. Their kingdom is well protected against the sort of attack they masterminded against North Dakota.” I hesitated, but I lifted my chin and stared down my nose at the royal representative. “If they haven’t figured this out yet, making any betrothal agreement with New York is sanctioning coercion and acknowledging the loss of North Dakota’s sovereign right. I hope your client recognizes that.”

  “What are your demands, Mr. Smith?” he spat.

  “You’re assuming I have demands. I don’t. If that changes, I’m sure I can find your number. In the meantime, I wouldn’t hold your breath. It would take a miracle to convince me to sell my stocks at this point.”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m protecting my kingdom to the best of my ability. Perhaps the royal family should try to do the same.”

  Trouble with a New York accent followed me around. Having used the same trick with Prince Marshal, Prince Ian and his pair of RPS agents had no chance of fooling me with their flimsy disguises of hats and coats. My worries over what a bunch of headstrong North Dakotans with a grudge might do decided me.

  A sane man would’ve returned to his hotel room. I led the trio into a quieter part of the park.

  “What do you want, Ian?” I shoved my hands in my pockets and sighed. “You look like drunk tourists in that getup. Also, if you’re hoping for the use of titles, you’ve come to the wrong man.”

  “The last time I saw you, you were much shorter.” Ian looked me over before shaking his head. “To think, the savior of North Dakota’s financial interest is none other than you, the discredited—”

  “Willfully disowned,” I corrected.

  “—Adam Penshire.”

  “Smith.”

  “Could you have picked a more common name?”

  “No. That was the point.”

  Ian held his hands up. “I’m not your enemy, Adam.”

  He wasn’t? When we’d been growing up and New York had sent him to North Dakota to socialize with the lesser royals, he’d viewed Veronica as an eligible candidate to be his bride. That alone put him as enemy number two, directly beneath His Royal Majesty of North Dakota. “Since when? You never liked me, and your kingdom just tanked my kingdom’s economy. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t make us friends.”

  “I wasn’t the one to do it. While there are advantages to having one of your princesses in the family line, I’m not that stupid. No matter what reputation us New Yorkers have, I don’t make moves on another man’s woman.”

  I refused to acknowledge even the idea Veronica might be my woman, no matter how much I wanted that to be the truth. “Your parents are that stupid, obviously.”

  “I won’t deny that.”

  “Why are you here?” I wanted to know how he’d found me, but I suspected he’d been keeping track of me—or had decided to find out who was an obstacle during New York’s stock acquisition. Considering Alfred Knoxwin had been able to locate me, I gave up hope of hiding unless I took some drastic measures.

  “I want to know how you staged that bailout. You’re a nobody. You have a mediocre rank, a shit job, and the last time I checked, you didn’t have two pennies to rub together.”

  I laughed, which earned me glares from Ian’s RPS agents. “I had the pennies. I earned them playing the market. I liquidated my New York stocks to make purchases here, and I didn’t sell the shares I already had. When you’re already set up with the right corporations, it’s trivial.”

  “You’re seriously telling me you used profit from my kingdom to buy yours?”

  “It’s a little ironic, isn’t it?”

  “A little. How’s Veronica?”

  “How would I know?”

  He frowned, his gaze locking onto my wrist. “You’re wearing two suppressors, and you don’t know?”

  If Ian was as I remembered, he wouldn’t quit until I answered him, so there was no point in fighting the inevitable. “I haven’t seen her since I got the boot. You should know that. You’re one of the contenders for her.” I struggled to remain relaxed. “What she does is her business.”

  I failed on keeping my tone neutral, but I figured it conveyed the point well enough. What she did was her business, and I didn’t have to sound happy about it.

  “You really haven’t seen her? Not once?”

  “Why do you care? I’m competition. But no, I haven’t.”

  “I am having a difficult time believing North Dakota actually exiled a leech. Sure, bonded pairs make a mess of plans, but to willfully attempt to interfere with a bond? That’s something else. Was your bond broken?”

  I had an unreasonable urge to break a prince’s nose, but I stuffed my hands into my pockets so I w
ouldn’t follow through on the thought. “I fail to see how that’s anyone’s business.”

  “She’s the heir. It’s everyone’s business. Right now, you’re the most important player in a very important game. There are going to be a lot of people after you once the dust settles. You have no detail. You’re wearing suppressors. You’re an easy target.”

  “Considering how many unwanted visitors I’ve had today already, I’m inclined to agree with you. What do you want?”

  “It’s simple. I want your cooperation. Your position gives me leverage I need right now.”

  My what gave him what? At a loss of where to begin, I stared at him.

  “It’s not a kidnapping if you cooperate,” he explained.

  I freed my hand from my pocket and lifted it to pinch the bridge of my nose. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  As a strong flameweaver with two RPS agents backing him, Ian could do just as he claimed. He could inflict burns without leaving permanent marks if he did it right, the kind that hurt so much I’d be completely disabled within minutes. Without knowing what his RPS agents could do, I assumed they’d add to the misery. “And if I don’t cooperate?”

  “It’ll be fun for one of us, and that one of us isn’t you. You helpfully brought us somewhere nice and secluded, too. Are you going to insist on making an ineffective resistance?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s how these things go. This is going to hurt like hell, isn’t it?”

  Ian snapped a mocking salute. “Only for a moment. Zach? Why don’t you show our guest your talent. Be gentle. It’s rude to completely fry our friends.”

  My eyes widened. Against Ian, I could possibly get in a few hits, but him going straight for his agent’s cooperation meant nothing but trouble for me. While I stood no chance against the man, I bruised my knuckles on his nose before the crack-bang of a lightning strike put an end to my flimsy defiance.

  Several hours after I regained consciousness, I finally stopped twitching, something Ian found hilarious. My head pounded, and if his pet RPS agent ever came near me again, I’d run. It wouldn’t do me any good, but I wouldn’t make it easy.