Xavier’s eyes shot to me, guilt plastered on his face. “I had some unexpected business to take care of. Took quite a bit longer than I thought.”
“You couldn’t have texted to let anyone know?” I asked, accusation creeping into my voice.
His eyes narrowed. “You sound like Mother.”
I gentled my tone. “Oliver was upset.”
Xavier let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I know Oliver is pissed that I abdicated. I figured he wouldn’t care whether I was here or not.”
“You’re still his brother. Even if he’s mad, he wants your support. He’s doing this for everyone, not just himself.”
“I’ll make sure I’m there for the next event.” A few seconds passed. “Thanks for watching out for him, Knox. You’re a better brother than I am.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes. It is.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had grown up with Xavier—shit, I had idolized him when we were kids. I knew how much he loved his family, but these last few months had shown a different side of him. He was emotionally and physically absent in a way he’d never been before.
“Well, I should be going. I’ll see you around,” Xavier said, stepping past me to exit the office, stopping to give Eugene a scratch behind the ear as he closed the door.
“See you later, man,” I said.
Eugene and I continued our way down the hall and up one more flight of stairs to the royal suites. We approached Rosalind’s room, the farthest door on the left, and I knocked three times.
“Come in,” she answered softly.
I opened the door, and Eugene barreled past me, nearly knocking me over. Rosie was sitting in an overstuffed armchair with her back to the door, a book in hand. Eugene wasted no time jumping up onto the chair and licking her hands.
“Hi, Eugene!” Rosie exclaimed gleefully. She had adored Eugene from the time he was a puppy. “What are you doing here?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me.
“Hey, squirt. I got a work order for your room. Mind if I fix it now?”
“I don’t mind. The drawer to my desk is stuck and my toilet is making a funny noise.”
“Did you clog it up with your big ol’ dookies again?”
“Knox!” she squealed. “Youknowit was Princess Catherine who clogged my toilet when she visited!”
I roared with laughter. I knew it hadn’t been Rosie, but Oliver and I were forever teasing her about it. Princess Catherine had clogged the toilet so badly that it flooded the entire bathroom and ruined the ceiling of the floor below. Catherine was so embarrassed that Rosie took the blame, but after endless amounts of teasing from Oliver and me, Rosie finally confessed that it was Catherine. It was one of the realities of living with royals that no one wanted to talk about: Everybody shits.
“Sure it was,” I winked.
“Ugh, I should never have taken the blame for her. Brothers are the worst,” Rosie muttered under her breath.
I chuckled, my heart warming that she included me when she talked about her brothers. She had a sweet and generousspirit that made everyone adore her, and it was an honor to be one of her big brothers.
“What are you reading?” I asked as I strode to her writing desk.
“Treasure Island.” She held the book up to show me the cover. “Father said I should read the ‘classics’ and that there is some good stuff to learn from this, but I’m not getting it.”
I jiggled the drawer. It didn’t budge. “You’re telling me that you don’t like a story filled with pirates and treasure and adventure?”
Rosalind, in all her preteen wonder, rolled her eyes and slammed the book shut. She walked over to watch me work.
Moving to the floor, I looked underneath the desk to investigate and spotted something sticking out from the back of the drawer. There was just enough space to use my finger to push it back, releasing the drawer.
“I see the problem,” I said, holding up the wooden dolphin I had carved for Rosie about five years before.
