No one appeared to have any issue with this, although they did seem surprised by my bluntness, but they’d adjust to me. I did not cater to the double-talk so popular among the nobility. I didn’t have the patience.
“Now.” I clapped my hands and rubbed them briskly. “Let’s get things sorted. We’ve much to do, little time to do it in, and I’ve been ordered to get a fitting for the ceremony and ball on top of everything else. You can feed me the details later, but what responsibilities have already been transferred to me?”
People grabbed folders and pens, and convened around my desk. I took them one at a time, as I had a vague memory of what I’d done in the beginning of my time here in the palace. Very vague. It was coming back to me now that I had folders to look at, though.
I hadn’t been too busy the first couple months,thatmuch I remembered. Good. I had plenty of time to build up protections and preparations for what was coming.
I’d need all the time I could get.
Three
James
Dinner that night was a private affair with my new family, away from the nobility, so I could meet my new siblings.
Again.
I sat on King Patrick’s right, toying with my soup spoon as I took everyone’s measure. I’d been so nervous the first time I’d met them, wanting to start off on the right foot, I couldn’t really recall much of this dinner. Now that I knew everyone, I should be able to read them better.
King Patrick looked quite fine this evening, his dark brown hair brushed away from his face and resting on his collar, close-cropped beard freshly oiled. He’d shed the outer mantle he wore during official business and left only the suit coat, far more relaxed for this family dinner. I remembered him looking much older, but currently he’d be not quite sixty, so of course he’d appear younger.
Directly across from me sat Victor, who superficially looked a great deal like his mother, with the same thick black hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. If you looked carefully, however, you’d seethe signs of how his lifestyle already wreaked his destruction. He was thin from not eating enough, and even cosmetics couldn’t hide the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Likely from too much of whatever substance he’d spent the better part of the day imbibing. Could be alcohol or drugs, who knew?
He also glared at me as if I were to blame for every wrong thing happening in his life. That much hadn’t changed. Victor had looked at me like I was a thief and scumbag until the day he’d died.
Ignoring him for the moment, I glanced at Royce, who sat next to him. He’d also inherited his mother’s dark hair, but his eyes were more of a golden brown, skin pale from spending all his time indoors researching things. Royce was very much the academic and truly gifted with medicine. I’d rely on him for his expertise later. He seemed curious about me but not cautious. Then again, Royce didn’t have an ambitious bone in his body.
Helena sat next to me, appraising me from the corner of her eye even as I studied her. I’d always been partial to her. She was quick of wit, and our personalities mixed well, which made me sad to think I’d not helped protect her from her horrid husband.
She, out of all the children, looked the most like her mother, just a few inches taller. Her raven hair hung in a loose waterfall curl over one shoulder, blue eyes contoured with a hint of eye powder, and the deep blue dress brought out her complexion very well. With her political sense and intelligence, I had high hopes for her.
Now, how did I encourage her misogynistic parents to see past gender and recognize their daughter’s talent?
I would love an answer, because I had no clue.
Queen Beatrice, who sat at the other end of the table, beamed at me. “James, how do you like your staff?”
“They’re splendid,” I answered truthfully. “You gave me the best of the best.”
She seemed pleased by my answer. “I certainly tried. Do tell me if you want to switch anyone out, though.”
I knew these people better than some friends and immediately waved this away. “They’re all very competent, so I don’t imagine that’ll be necessary. Did the revisions for the contract go through?”
“Yes. Galbraith made the adjustments, and Patrick and I approved them just before dinner.”
Victor stopped stabbing at his steak and gave me a squinty-eyed look. “What revisions?”
“Two stipulations. One stating I can’t inherit the throne and the other about not being given an arranged match of any sort.”
He froze, eyes as wide as startled prey. “Why would you even think to add those in?”
“It’s just to quell rumors, dear,” his mother said, soothing him. “People love to gossip, you know how it goes. They assumed we brought James in because we wanted to make him king—”
Victor slammed his knife down on the table, making everything jump and rattle. “Why would they think that when I’m here? I’ll be the next king!”
Actually, you’ll be the next royal corpse. In about, oh, a year? I blandly lifted my knife and fork and cut into my steak.
Queen Beatrice put on her polished court smile and moved the conversation along. “Once the adoption has gone through, I really must turn my attention to finding good partners for my sons. James, I know you said no arranged marriage for you, but I’m sure you wouldn’t mind—”
