In the dining hall, Robert brought round Stephen’s breakfast, then produced an iPad.
“The King’s Office asked that I confirm your diary this week.”
Stephen nodded, sipping his tea. He’d always kept his schedule in his head, never bothered with a proper diary. Much to the chagrin of the King’s Office. Though to be fair, Stephen had, on occasion, missed an event. Which did not go well for him. Thus the need for Robert.
“You’ve Brighton Eagles Fan Day today at The Wellington Hotel. Thomas will be arriving at eleven to drive over with you.”
“Dressed and ready.” Stephen smiled, biting into his buttered muffin and picking at the sleeve of his rugby jersey. He’d watched the news while getting dressed earlier, and Channel One reported, “. . . over a thousand estimated to be lining Market Street. Many anxious to meet the team as well as a royal prince.”
As much as Stephen looked forward to the event, being with his teammates, meeting the fans, a crowd of thousands would pose security issues. Though five and a half years had passed without incident, Stephen carried a reflex in his body, ready to pounce should another familiar face, a friend—
“Sir, did you hear me? Tomorrow, Friday . . .” Robert carried on, reading from his iPad. “You open the youth rugby tournament. Have you a speech ready?”
“Yes, yes, of course. Right here.” Stephen tapped his heart. He didn’t need a formal script to speak to Brighton’s youth about rugby and the importance of sports.
“Two more items then you’re free,” Robert said, hiding his smile. He knew how tedious Stephen found all thisidotting andtcrossing. “This coming Monday evening is theKing Stephen Ipremier, where you are representing the royal family. Do you have everything you need? The palace will send the limo for you at seven. Thomas will go over the security details with you. There’s an after party to which I RSVP’d affirmative, but you’re not expected to make an appearance if you do not wish. I informed the hostess if you did attend, it would only be briefly.”
“You’re a good man, Robert.”
“This rather late request came yesterday evening. TheMadeline & Hyacinth Live!show asked if you could come on as a surprise guest tomorrow, after opening the rugby tournament. The King’s Office left it to your discretion, though if you can see your way clear to be on the show, Albert believes it will be ‘good PR.’ ” Robert set down his iPad. “However, it is Madeline and Hyacinth, so no telling what mischief they’ve planned.”
Stephen washed down the last of his muffin with a heady gulp of tea. “Did they say why they want me on?” He leaned toward a yes, even after last week’s #howtocatchaprince Twitter campaign. Given time and perspective, the whole bit was rather clever.
Only caveat? He didn’t want to be caught in some sort of prank or “Here’s the winner of our contest,” to which he’d have to be princely and sweet to a woman he’d never met. On national television.
Still, Maddie and Hy were fun, creative, and the heart of Brighton Kingdom’s pop culture.
“They say they want to talk about the film,” Robert said. “The royal family, the history of the House of Stratton, and your rugby game.”
Stephen hesitated. “All right, I’ll do it. But I want a contract with a rider. I’ll not discuss the war or my love life.”
“Very well, sir.”
Stephen selected another muffin and reached for the jam. “What’s next? The art auction for the Children’s Literacy Foundation Tuesday?”
“Very good. Yes. And you’ve not forgotten your weekly dinner with your family Sunday evening.”
“Got it.” Though he had forgotten dinner with the family before. Stephen glanced at his watch, shoving the big bite of muffin in his mouth.
Thomas would be here shortly, and he wanted to run through some exercises for his ankle. The bugger hurt more than usual this morning.
“Your brother rang while you were dressing,” Robert said, closing the calendar on the screen. “He wanted to know how you were getting on with the task. Said you’d know to what he referenced.”
“The task is in limbo.” Stephen set aside his napkin and headed out of the kitchen toward the closet on the other side of the foyer. He wanted to take a couple of rugby caps he had made, like the ones professional players earned, to Fan Day for the kids. He’d find one or two he felt especially deserving.
“Is there anything else, sir?” Robert said, trailing behind him.
Stephen paused at the door. “I don’t believe so.”
“Nothing to follow up from your trip to America? Perhaps this task His Majesty mentioned?”
“Got it covered. Oh, set a late supper. I’m going to the stadium for a walk-through for the youth tournament opening.”
“Very well.”
Stephen made his way to his office. He had the better part of an hour to do his exercises, clean up his desk, and muse over how to get Corina to sign the annulment.
But Robert’s questions about America nagged him. Did he know something? Someone? Did Corina call? He felt exposed and vulnerable. And he didn’t like it.
