I pulled my chair out, trying to get my brain into work mode. Come on, switch from adoring Edwin to actual paperwork. Damn, the shift was harder this morning than usual.
Edwin called from his desk, “James?”
Alarm bells sounded in my head, and I rose out of my chair quickly. Edwin sounded as if someone had tilted the world on him without notice, and he wasn’t sure whether to panic or not. His eyes never left the two pages in his hand, his entire body unnaturally still. The last time I’d seenthatexpression on his face was in our first lives, when he’d told me the epidemic had taken hold in our southern cities.
I came around the desk in a flash to read over his shoulder, pulling him against me in the process because I didn’t trust his knees to support him. He looked stunned enough to collapse right on the spot.
It took nothing more than the first three sentences to fully comprehend what had spooked him.
Edwin Grantham,
By Royal Order, you are being transferred from your current station as Prince James’s secretary. Your new duty station will be at Lounde. Hand over any work or correspondence immediately, as you are expected at Lounde by the end of next week.
My eyes skipped over the rest of it and went straight to the bottom of the page, where the order’s origin seal and signature would be.
Beatrice Elouise Kronenscheld
So, my queenly mother thought she was being smart by taking Edwin away from me? Rage flooded my body so quickly it made a roar of white noise, and I felt jittery, shaky, like I’d shifted into battle mode. If she’d been standing in front of me, I’d have broken her neck without hesitation. My embrace turned near punishing for a moment before I managed to ease it, but Edwin sank into my grip rather than protesting.
Jo Ann came in close, popping up on tiptoes and peering over Edwin’s arm. She let out a shocked hiss. “They can’t transfer you like this!”
An uproar spread across the room as people demanded details, and Jo Ann snatched the papers free of his hand to show the rest. I let her go.
For my Edwin, who was worried and scared, I wrangled my temper enough to offer reassurance. I pressed a kiss to his temple and promised him, “I have a plan B, if it comes to that. Breathe, Edwin. I will correct her.” If the words came out a little murderous sounding, well…
He tilted his head so he could see my eyes, searching them for…something. “I know you can overturn this. But can you change her mind so she doesn’t try again?”
“The latter option is harder, but I think I can. I’m certainly going to try. You stay right here. Read, if it takes your mind off things. I’ll be back.”
I kissed his temple again and then took the order back from Jo Ann. Before I had even fully reached the hallway, Captain Rowan appeared at my heels.
The paper crumpled in my hand, my whole extremity shaking as I tried to keep my temper reined in. I tried not to snap as I warned my knight off.
“I do not need an escort.”
“I’m here for moral support and to keep you from strangling the queen,” he riposted neatly. “Ignore me until you need me.”
Even through my anger, the thought came to me that I really didn’t deserve my knights. Every single one of them was the most stalwart, loyal companion a man could beg for. I’d buy him dinner and drinks after this. He’d have earned it by the time I was done with Beatrice.
Most of me, though, was focused on this insanity. I’d known once Beatrice realized Edwin wasn’t just a fling for me, she would do something. I’d been waiting for the shoe to drop, but I hadn’t expected this reaction. This was a new play in her book.
Frustration was the number two emotion nipping at my heels. I knew, intellectually, that of course Beatrice was going to repeat the same type of mistakes. She had no memory of the past life; of course she’d act similarly to how she had before. She didn’t have the experience to know better. But emotionally, it felt like she just couldn’t learn from her mistakes, or she chose not to. Emotionally, it felt like I had to deal with an idiot who never seemed to wise up, which grated my nerves like nothing else could. I detested incompetent people.
As I traversed the halls, people more or less leapt out of my way. I’d feel bad about scaring them later. Right now, I couldn’t see through this red haze clouding my vision enough to care.
The very second I reached the queen’s rooms, I threw the doors wide open. Her knights stationed outside the door didn’t even try to stop me, just gulped and let me through. There she sat, ensconced in her favorite chair while her maid stood behind her, doing her hair in some ridiculous updo requiring several peacock feathers.
Beatrice startled, physically jumping when I stormed in, then her expression settled into one of resigned annoyance. Like she’d known I’d throw a tantrum and here I was. I resented, heavily, being treated like Victor.
My tone was hardly level, but I strove not to shout as I approached her. “I am not the problem child here, Beatrice. You can put that expression away. This?” I waved the order before ripping it right down the middle. “This didn’t happen. What you’re attempting is so amateurish and stupid that even a scullery maid can see the truth. Sending Edwin away will not help you.”
“James, really, if you’d just calm down—”
I kept talking, because I doubted she had anything worthwhile to say. She rarely did. “I will not become king.”
She froze, blue eyes widening, horror taking over her face.
Ha, had her attention now. My smile was a parody of joy, reflecting no mirth or delight. “I will not become crown prince, or consort, or in any way, shape, or form take the throne. Frankly, you can’t make me. There’s not a single thing you can offer me to make it worth it. Also, whatever matchmaking scheme you have won’t work either, as your judgement is for shit, and I don’t trust you to make such an important decision for me.”
