Liam set his teacup down so he didn’t break it. “They’re myteam.”
“Your parents have discussed this with you. So has the chief of the UMG. What you desire doesn’t change the reality of the situation.”
“I understand everyone’s concern about me in particular executing missions outside our borders, but I have done that many times before.”
“You fail to acknowledge the fact that it happened in the past when no one knew your identity. The world knows who you are now, and you need to accept that, Liam.”
“Gran—”
“You know your duty,” she said, interrupting him with a firmness that made Liam snap his mouth shut. “You are one of a select few within our family who truly understands what it means to sacrifice and to serve. You gave up so very much, Liam. We almost lost you. If it weren’t for a quirk of your genetics, we would have. While genetics kept you alive, they are not what will dictate your life. It is your name that you must take into account now. You are not the only one affected by your actions.”
Liam had never liked being reprimanded as a child. Being on the receiving end of his grandmother’s cool regard as an adult was just as terrible.In moments like this, Liam was reminded of the strength his grandmother carried in her small frame, one which had shouldered the fortunes of a country through changing times.
“I can’t just leave my team to fight without me.”
His grandmother’s gaze was unwavering in its intensity as she stared him down, the same way she had stared down countless politicians and heads of state over the years. She was the steel spine of their family, and Liam knew even he wasn’t immune to bending to her will.
“You are a prince. You may never take the throne, but you owe your loyalty to the Crown. You know the Crown comes first, Liam. That has never changed in centuries. You, as a metahuman, are not enough to change that reality. I love you and I want what is best for you, but you are not the only one I must think of.”
Liam mechanically reached for his curried chicken sandwich, picking it up and taking a bite. The taste was sour on his tongue, but he kept chewing until he swallowed the food. The demand from his grandmother was not unexpected. He had been fighting the same losing battle since he had arrived on English soil after the fight in Washington, D.C. His superior officers, along with his parents, had been pressuring him for a year now to step back from the field.
The only problem was Liam didn’t want to.
The only problem was he knew, in the end, he didn’t have a choice.
As his grandmother had said, the Crown always came first.
“I understand that,” Liam said after a tense silence. “But fighting is all I have known since I entered Sandhurst.”
His grandmother reached over and settled her hand on his forearm. “Then perhaps it is time for you to learn how tostop. There is no shame in stepping aside and letting someone else carry on the fight.”
It was the same sort of argument his parents had given him, one that always came from those who would never put on a uniform. Jasper, for his part, had never suggested Liam turn his back on his duty.
Liam stuffed all of his anger beneath a veneer of politeness that had served him well over the years. He rather thought his grandmother could see right through him, but it didn’t matter.
His future was set in stone. He just had to figure out when the carving would begin.
“Who else will be joining you at Ascot this year?” Liam asked, determined to move away from the subject at hand.
It wasn’t the cleanest switch of subjects, but he didn’t care. It was just him and his grandmother, and she allowed him to change the conversation, smoothly taking up the social cue with a natural ease that Liam still envied. The social graces expected of those who moved within his social class were sometimes hard for him to remember after everything he had gone through.
“Your parents and brother will be joining us this year,” his grandmother said.
“Splendid.”
Standing on the sidelines for the rest of his life was not how Liam thought he would grow old, but it ensured that he would do just that—grow old. Perhaps someday he would appreciate that.
“I anticipate they will want to be in the same carriage as you. Reginald is still working on everyone’s placement.”
Liam nearly choked on a bite of scone as he abruptly remembered that Reginald Archer, the Earl of Coventry and the Lord Chamberlain, was Oliver’s father. He coughed to clear his throat and focused on his grandmother as she brought him up to date on what everyone in their family had been up to lately, pushing thoughts of Oliver aside.
These days, time spent with her alone was a gift Liam wanted to enjoy. Despite their disagreement over the direction of his future, he adored his grandmother, and the hour spent with her that afternoon was a fond memory he would keep forever.
* * *
The UMG headquarterswas located on the south side of the River Thames, near the Lambeth Bridge, with a decent view of the Palace of Westminster. Headquarters was where active duty metahuman teams were deployed out of, along with other agents. The UMG’s training facility was located outside the boundaries of Greater London to the west, but Liam rarely had reason to visit that location. The high-rise government building that Liam drove into the next morning was as drab as the rest of the ones in the area that housed agencies integral to keeping the United Kingdom safe.
Liam had to make his way through layers of security before he could even reach the underground car park. He’d left Kensington Palace that morning in his service uniform as a pointed reminder to everyone that he was still active duty despite what the brass would prefer.
