While the royal family was a figurehead within the government, and had been for several centuries now, that didn’t mean respect had fallen by the wayside. Liam immediately stood at attention and gave a respectful nod at Queen Mary III, who sat perusing a tablet behind the wide wooden desk in front of the window.
“Ma’am.”
The queen looked up, a fond smile gracing her lips as her clear blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Good afternoon, Liam. Welcome back.”
His grandmother had turned eighty-four this year, and the royal family had celebrated some months back privately. Trooping the Colour was still on the royal calendar, scheduled to happen in June, as it always had over the centuries. Liam hadn’t been to many of those during his adult life due to being deployed and being a member of the Royal Legion once he became a metahuman.
He wasn’t the only one in his family to miss royal engagements due to service. Liam’s older brother, Jasper, was a colonel in the RAF and had been kept away as often as Liam over the years because of his military commitment.
They’d both missed everything on the royal calendar last year. Jasper had been absent because of deployment to a base in Poland for a ten-month joint assignment with the Polish Air Force. Liam had missed everything due to the political mess that had been dropped into everyone’s lap after his classified identity was revealed. Liam planned to be present this year and celebrate with his extended family for once.
Today, though, he was having a private afternoon tea with his grandmother at her invitation. Liam generally wasn’t a nervous man, but usually these sorts of visits ended with a request that he always had a difficult time declining. Saying no to the queen was never easy, but he’d done it before. Liam had a feeling he wouldn’t have that luxury today.
“Thank you, Gran,” Liam replied.
He approached the set of armchairs situated around a table off to the side of the office. A spread of finger foods and sweets, along with a pot of tea and two delicate teacups, had been arranged on the table for them. Liam spied one of his favorites—curried chicken had always been his first choice as a child—and items he knew his grandmother favored. The tea would be strong and black, with neither of them taking milk and only a bit of sugar. It was a preference Liam had learned from his grandmother, and one he’d kept over the years.
The queen stood, the dress she wore more comfortable looking than the ones she wore for public outings. She was always put together, though, even when family stopped by. Her white hair had lost some of its thickness over the years, but it was always styled in a flattering manner. The wrinkles on her face came from age and experience, but the keenness in her eyes had never changed in the thirty-three years that Liam had been alive.
“How was the wedding?”
Liam didn’t fight the smile that came to his mouth. “Excellent. I’m thrilled for Jamie and Kyle. I’m so pleased they found each other.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. They deserve their happiness.”
Liam had only told three people what had actually transpired between Jamie, Kyle, and Stanislav Pavluhkin in the United States Supreme Court building last spring—his parents and the queen. He hadn’t been physically present at that location at the time, hadn’t witnessed the tragedy of that moment, but he had seen the aftermath.
The details of how Jamie had killed Stanislav were generally classified at the request of the United States government. The public knew Jamie had shot the precog, but only certain groups of people actually knew he had shot through Kyle to get to the enemy. Jamie’s execution of Declan Wolcott on a live media stream had overtaken people’s interest in the events of the battle that night. People remembered that moment over one they’d never seen.
Liam had kept confidence because Jamie was his friend, and the trauma Jamie had gone through didn’t need to be rehashed in the public eye. It was enough that everyone knew Jamie was responsible for Stanislav’s death. They didn’t need to know the sacrifice Jamie had made to ensure the enemy didn’t win.
Liam waited until his grandmother had taken her seat on the sofa before sitting beside her. He waited, as was customary, for her to take her pick of the food on the tiers of plates before them on the table. He was unsurprised that she went for the scones and clotted cream first, as that had always been her favorite. When it was finally his turn, Liam grabbed a few finger sandwiches, a slice of quiche, and a scone, slathering lemon curd over it.
He set his plate down once it was filled to pour his grandmother and himself a cup of tea, the smell of it familiar. He stirred sugar into both their cups before passing his grandmother hers. She took it with a steady hand.
“Thank you, my darling.” His grandmother sipped at the tea, the steam curling in front of her face. “You should invite Jamie and Kyle to Ascot as your guests this year.”
Liam blinked in surprise. “I can’t recall the last time Jamie went to Ascot. I’m sure he would appreciate the invitation and wouldn’t want to miss it if the request is coming from you. I’ll send him a message, but I doubt he’ll read it until after his honeymoon.”
“Where are they off to?”
“Empyrean. My understanding is they left today, in the morning their time. I believe they’re gone for a week.”
“A cruise through space, after everything they’ve gone through here on Earth, sounds relaxing. I do hope they appreciated the family’s wedding gift.”
“I’m sure they did, Gran.” Liam took a sip of tea, the hot brew nearly burning his tongue. “I was a bit surprised about your request for tea so soon after my return.”
“Can’t a grandmother spend time with her grandchildren?”
Liam tried not to let his smile come across as strained. “You do, and we appreciate the time spent with you immensely. However, you and I rarely meet simply to chat. What is it you wish to discuss?”
It was never polite to steer the conversation with the queen, but Liam was family and that gave him an advantage everyone else outside the Firm lacked. His grandmother set down her teacup and picked up her scone, taking a bite. She chewed carefully before swallowing and finally answering his question.
“I understand you still wish to lead the Royal Legion.”
Liam’s fingers tightened on the delicate porcelain teacup in his hand. “I already lead them, Gran.”
The look she gave him was too knowing for his comfort. “Liam.”
