“I am,” I said. “I’ve two years on Victor.”
“How silly of me not to think of that before. If you had been born my eldest, it would be you who was crown prince.”
A neat segue and I’d take it. “I fear you’re not the only one who’s realized that, Mother, hence my coming to see you. I realize it’s a bit late to amend the adoption agreement, but Ifelt it necessary to slide in two clauses. Just to shut down the naysayers before they throw a fit about me perhaps taking the throne from your legitimate children.”
Her perfectly painted lips compressed into a troubled frown. “I have heard whispers, although no one seems to have the guts to say it to my face. What changes do you suggest?”
I pulled out the modified agreement and flipped to the second page. The first page was all flowery legalese language anyway and didn’t affect anything. Page two included the nitty-gritty.
“Two adjustments. First, I cannot be made king.”
She looked at where I pointed. “Oh, yes, very concisely put. But why the second?”
“So no one can think to marry me to Helena and make me king that way.” It was an utter lie. I didn’t think anyone would try it, but I was safeguarding myself from Queen Beatrice’s machinations. Still, it was a plausible thing for her to believe and something she would agree to with no problem.
Queen Beatrice hummed in agreement. “Yes, quite smart. You are removed enough to make marriage to my daughter feasible. This should shut down people’s objections quick-smart. Helena may be engaged, but until she’s wed, people will always scheme.” She put a hand on my cheek, beaming up at me. “Look at you, so smart. Here, Ramsey.”
Her retainer immediately stepped forward.
“Take this to Judge Galbraith,” she said. “Have him use this version for the ceremony.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Ramsey said with a deferential bow of his head. The man’s narrow face was too attuned to remaining neutral, but I could see the relief in his body as he escaped the room of boredom with as much alacrity as his old bones would allow.
I knew how to extract myself with grace, so I shifted on the seat. “I must run, as I’ve yet to meet my secretarial staff or knights, but call for me if you need anything.”
“I will,” she promised with another bright smile. “Off with you. And I’ll see you at dinner. The whole family will be there.”
“Of course.” Family dinners hadn’t ever, ever gone well, but needs must.
I bounded out of the room in high spirits. Now, finally, I got to meet my Edwin. Again. The hours had felt like years, and I couldn’t wait to be able to call him by name, interact with him, and spoil him. Nothing could make me happier than what was about to happen.
I harbored only one fear when it came to Edwin—saying too much. Or acting too familiar with him too soon. I was very much in the habit of venting and leaning upon him for emotional support. I must guard myself against doing so until we grew close once more. It would be hard, though. I had a feeling my habits would ambush me.
I went straight to my “new” office without any need of a guide, as I knew this place inside and out. It would be a trial to pretend I didn’t, to not tip my hand. How long should I play ignorant? A month? Three months? I wasn’t sure I’d make the month, to be honest.
Eh, I’d think about that later. I was here now. The office doors stood open, and I could see people moving about inside. I’d been given a full staff of eight secretaries and a squadron of a dozen knights, with Edwin and Captain Rowan designated as my official retainers. They oversaw the secretaries and knights, respectively.
I didn’t see all my knights, but Captain Rowan was present. No surprise there; he was surely eager to meet me and figure out if serving under me would be paradise or hell. While I entered the room, I indulged myself in searching for Edwin, mygaze lingering on him. He looked quite sharp in a black suit, but he already had a cup of tea on his desk, which didn’t bode well. Edwin had a nervous stomach, and apparently he was quite uneasy about meeting me today. I hadn’t noticed this upon our original first meeting—I hadn’t known him well enough to recognize the signs—but I saw them today and frowned. I must do something to calm his nerves.
Someone made a sharp inhale and I turned my head. Ah, Phila. She was always the first to observe things.
“Hello.” I gave her my best smile. “I’m James Kronenscheld.”
Everyone paused and turned to look at me.
Phila swept her eyes over me, startled, then gamely put on a professional expression. Narrow of face and with the darkest eyes I’d ever seen, she was also one of the sharpest people I knew and someone I loved working with. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I’m Phila, one of your secretaries.”
“A great pleasure, Phila. Will you introduce me to your colleagues?”
As she did, I shook hands with each person. Allen looked as severe as I remembered, with a thin face, his black hair pulled back in an austere ponytail. Upon his marriage five years from now, his wife would utterly change his fashion for the better.
McCoy’s Groidan blood made him stout as a keg and sharp as a tack. He’d combed out his ridiculous red beard and re-braided it recently. I could smell the earthy tone of his beard oil.
Hartman and Stedman looked uncannily alike, even for twins. They deliberately dressed alike on any given day. Why? To prank humanity. They had a rather droll sense of humor. I’d discovered the trick, though, about two years into knowing them, and I wouldn’t be fooled again. Hartman had a small, light brown freckle near his right eye that Stedman did not, and it was the only way to discern the two. Otherwise, they both had the same light brown hair, pale skin, and high brow.
“Hartman.” I shook hands with him, then with his brother. “Stedman. However did twin brothers get assigned the same job?”
“We asked,” they answered in perfect unison.
