Er, wait, had that been in this lifetime or the last? Shit, I hoped I hadn’t gotten the two timelines mixed up.
Judging from the look on Edwin’s face, I had.
To mask this, I gave him a hopeful smile. “I did get it right?”
“Yes, this is a favorite author…” He spoke slowly, thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving the cover. “Your Highness, why bring this to me?”
“Because I hoped to eat lunch with you and have you read to me. I love your voice.” All absolutely true and hopefully not high-and-mighty sounding. I was trying to push an agenda without pushing an agenda. I wasn’t sure how good I was doing.
He shook his head before handing the book back to me. “I appreciate the thought, but it wouldn’t be appropriate. Please don’t take this the wrong way, as I know you regard all people as your equal, but accepting this gift will give me nothing but backlash from the staff. You’re a very popular man with a fan following, in case you didn’t know.”
All I heard was the rejection and deflated. I had pressed too far too fast, apparently. I took the book back and stood, feeling uncomfortable in Edwin’s presence for the first time ever. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. Forget today happened.”
Then I turned and speedwalked away, my appetite completely gone now. I kicked myself as I retreated to my rooms. I was being too heavy handed, clearly. I must be more subtle when approaching him.
But how?
Fifteen
Edwin
Poets liked to ramble on about winds of change, but I thought it a figure of speech until Prince James Kronenscheld entered the palace.
In the three weeks he’d been here, he’d rallied both Princess Helena and Prince Royce into a united force—something I hadn’t even thought possible—started active work for Prince Royce’s salence project, created a plan to have the seawalls rebuilt within the next four months, started the campaign work for rent control, resealed the portal to the demon world, and had at least six more projects he wanted to start but “hadn’t gotten to yet.”
When James Kronenscheld decided something needed to be done, hemoved.
Prince James insisted I come with him as he reported to the king and queen before dinner. Why, I didn’t know. He seemed to like my company and appreciated what support I could give him. Really, I didn’t think he wanted to talk to King Patrick and Queen Beatrice alone.
I certainly wouldn’t. Those two loved to argue and it usually became a mess.
We met at King Patrick’s private study, which was better for a personal conversation, I supposed. When we entered, King Patrick was already seated, Queen Beatrice in a nearby armchair with a cup of tea in her hand, Ramsey standing just behind her shoulder.
“Greetings.” Prince James gave them a smile as he took one of the two remaining chairs, facing Queen Beatrice directly. “And good evening.”
I took up position behind him and just to his right side as he exchanged pleasantries. The king and queen did seem to be in a better mood than usual, but then, Prince James had taken a great many worries off their shoulders.
“Well,” Queen Beatrice said with a sunny smile, “how goes things with our children?”
“For the most part, I have no complaints,” Prince James responded. “Royce and Helena and I are doing splendidly. I’ve managed to have a few luncheons with them.”
“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands, her delight clear. “Er, I take it no progress with Victor?”
“We haven’t crossed paths aside from that singular family dinner,” Prince James parried smoothly. “We keep very opposite schedules.”
King Patrick groaned in irritation. “In other words, my eldest is up all night getting wasted while you’re an early riser. Don’t state things diplomatically, James. I want a factual report.”
Prince James paused for a moment, then dipped his head. “Fine. Facts it is. You both clearly know Victor isn’t fit for the throne and won’t change his tune anytime soon, if ever. My analysis is Royce isn’t a good second option. He doesn’t have the people skills. He doesn’twantto have the people skills. I asked him if he’d even entertain the idea and he immediately denied it.However, you do have one child who does have the right skills, the right attitude.”
Queen Beatrice looked at him, head tilted. “You?”
“No,” Prince James said with a groan. “Your daughter.”
From her expression, he had just announced something ludicrous. Mushrooms were sentient lifeforms. Babies were born out of people’s right ears. That kind of ludicrous. I had to stifle my own groan. Poor Princess Helena, for her own mother to dismiss her so out of hand.
When both parents gave Prince James that look, he gave a low, somewhat impatient sigh. “Queen Beatrice, are you telling me you don’t believe you, yourself, are an effective ruler?”
She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “Of course I’m not saying that!”
