“What if he refuses?”
“If I cannot guard Mechtilda as planned, it will be my honor to remain in Balcovia to guard my king.”
“What will the other companions do?”
“It is not unusual for a princess and her companions to all wed within a year of each other. Often to a lord—or higher.”
In fact, her brothers had already selected the aristocrat they expected Kuni to wed. Riches, respect, a lofty titleotherthan Royal Guardsman. They could not understand why marrying “well” wasn’t accomplishment enough.
“I don’t know which part sounds worse,” said Elizabeth. “Bowing and scraping to a princess, or marrying the first nob who asks, just to avoid being tossed in the street on someone else’s wedding day.”
“Royal companions enjoy access to almost every corner of the royal residences. We have significant influence with the princess, and are well paid for our service. We also have small fortunes by the time we retire from our posts, which is part of what makes us attractive brides for aristocratic suitors. But I agree with the sentiment. I would rather be a soldier than a coin purse.”
Kuni returned her gaze to the window. The fashionable Mayfair district was approaching. Large terraced homes built in crescents around small, trim squares. Nothing at all like the countryside in Balcovia.
“The life of a Royal Guard must be dreadfully exciting.”
“Floris and Reinald say it’s not, for regular Guardsmen. As fighting masters, my brothers are always busy, but they claim everyone else has been idle and bored since the end of the war.” Kuni rolled her eyes. “Then again, they would say anything to keep me from participating in our family’s legacy. On the few occasions we see each other, the first question from their mouths is when I’ll be married and off their hands.”
“Is there a third possibility?” Elizabeth asked. “Could you use your fortune to live independently?”
Kuni shrugged. “I suppose. I have never considered it, because to me there has always only been one choice: the Royal Guard. My father was a Royal Guardsman, my grandfather, my great-grandfather… The Royal Guard is where I belong. It is a family, both literally and figuratively.”
“I understand.” Elizabeth’s voice was soft. “Family is more than blood and means everything. My siblings and I followed in our father’s footsteps, too. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Baron Vanderbean took on clients and had adventures?”
“Heroic ones and legally dubious ones and every kind in between,” Elizabeth said with pride. “Wynchesters are like guards ourselves, but with no uniform or glory. We’re under no one’s orders but our own. We do what’s right because it’s honorable, and that’s enough.”
“Because you found the right family, they welcomed you with open arms.” That was all Kuni wanted. The carriage rolled to a stop. “Ah! We have arrived.”
“Arrived where, exactly?”
Kuni pulled out her guidebook and showed her a marked page. “We’re performing reconnaissance on these two aristocratic residences. Weaknesses in security, unguarded entrances—not just doors, but windows and any other openings. How many servants are visible, whether they remain at their posts, if they are dressed in any particular livery…”
“Before you get angry with me for what I’m about to suggest, I think you and your plan are brilliant. You’ll be a wonderful guard. It would simply be remiss of me not to point out that wehaveall this information at home, in neatly penned journals accompanied by detailed drawings and maps.”
Kuni shook her head. “I must prove I am capable of determining, finding, and collating the information myself. A guard must be able to read her surroundings—not just someone else’s notes. Cheating would dishonor my ancestors, and the gossip would disqualify me for the post.”
“Then we do it your way.” Elizabeth gestured with her bejeweled cane. “After you.”
To Kuni’s pleasure, Elizabeth proved herself a marvelous surveillance companion. She and her flamboyant cane deflected any glances sent in their direction, and she had a keen eye for precisely the sort of details Kuni was gathering for her report.
Granted, Elizabeth might have already seen that information in Graham’s books or Marjorie’s drawings or Tommy’s maps, but to her credit, Elizabeth only pointed out details Kuni could observe with her own senses, gamely doing her best to play along on Kuni’s terms.
Listen to the client. Then take the action they wish.
Fortunately, Kuni didn’t feel like a client. Elizabeth was too gregariously bad tempered for the outing to feel remotely professional on her part. Despite her droll misanthropic commentary, Elizabeth was enjoying herself immensely and made no attempt to hide it.
A strange sensation unfurled in Kuni’s chest. She couldn’t recall a single time her brothers had offered to help her achieve her aims. Nor could she recall a moment they’d seemed pleased to be in her company.
For Kuni, joining forces with Graham to evade Floris and Reinald had been the first endeavor of its kind. The morning she’d spent training with him in the rear garden had been magical. Now she was repeating the two-heads-are-better-than-one experience with Elizabeth. Kuni was forced to admit she enjoyed working as a team more than being on her lonesome.
It was not a circumstance she could allow herself to become used to. In peacetime, shifts as a Royal Guard were inherently solitary. Even if she and one of her brothers were posted on opposite sides of the same door, they would face straight ahead without speaking. Afterward, unmarried guards retired to the barracks. She could be one meter away for twelve hours and still notseethem any more than she did now.
Not that Kuni would become a ceremonial sentinel. She would be Princess Mechtilda’s right hand and personal Royal Guardswoman. Hand-selected by the princess herself, with her blessing. They’d been planning their lives together ever since they were children acting out their future roles with dolls.
As the first female guard, Kuni doubted her quarters would be with the men. Perhaps the king would give her a small room in the castle, as he’d done for her mother. Far away from the camaraderie of the Guardsmen.
