“Bash turned up at Eton a term after me,” James said. “A tiny pale blond kid. Looked like he’d been sent to the wrong school by accident. He got absolutely pummelled on the rugby pitch. In every sport, actually. He couldn’t catch, couldn’t tackle, couldn’t throw.” James picked up another blini and examined it. “He was B. Ashworth on the register. So someone started calling him Basher, which was funny, because he categorically was not one. But it stuck. We were Basher, Jams, and Vidal.”
James turned to face him. The shift was subtle, just a quarter-rotation of his shoulders, and a fractional lift of his chin, but it changed the geometry of the conversation entirely. They were no longer two men by a canapé table. They were two men in a negotiation, and James was setting the terms.
“He had a hard time at school, Lex. Until I made sure he didn’t.” James’s voice was quiet and level. “I don’t like it when Barnaby has a hard time. I don’t like it when he’s hurt. You understand, don’t you? How Bash should be treated?”
“I hear you,” Lex said.
James studied him for a beat. Then his expression shifted, not softening, but recalibrating, the threat filed and the point made. “Wonderful. Because The Crown doesn’t have any opinions, or hold to any sentiment Mr Murphy,” James said, his voice pitched for Lex’s ears alone. “ButJamsdoes.”
The last statement sat between them with the weight of a closing argument. James held his gaze, and Lex understood with absolute clarity what was happening. This was the shovel talk. This was the King of the United Kingdom, standing in his ownpalace, telling Lex exactly how deep the connection ran between himself and Barnaby Fitznorman-Bicester.
“This is most excellent. Now, on an entirely separate note.” James picked up another blini and ate it. “I’ve been looking at your work with the youth boxing programme in Barking. It’s impressive. The Palace has been discussing King’s Trust ambassadorships for athletes who are doing meaningful community work, and your name came up. I’m going to have my private secretary get in touch with your people to set up a meeting.”
“That’s…yeah.” Lex blinked. The tonal whiplash had the precision of a combination. Jab to the body, cross to the head, and now they were shaking hands at the centre of the ring. “That would be brilliant. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. We’ll be putting you to work as one of the faces for the King’s Trust, Mr Murphy.” James’s mouth curved. He extended his hand, and Lex shook it.
Then James placed his hand on Lex’s shoulder. The touch was light, brief, and entirely public. Anyone watching would have seen the King offering a sportsman a collegial pat on the back. Lex felt the pressure of each finger through the bespoke navy wool that Barnaby had chosen for him. Then the King lifted his hand, turned, and walked back into the fray.
Lex stood where James had left him and let the room settle back into noise around him.
He’d just been threatened by the King of the United Kingdom. Not with fists, or with any of the methods Lex had grown up understanding as the way men made their positions clear. James had done it with a childhood nickname, a salmon blini, and a smile that never once dropped below pleasant. In Barking, if someone had a problem with you, they told you to your face or they waited for you outside. Here, they fed you canapés and told you stories about boarding school, and theknife went in so clean you didn’t feel it until they’d already walked away.
He looked across the room. Barnaby was with the eventing squad, one hand behind his back, his jaw set in the polite line that meant he was in full performance mode. Then his gaze drifted sideways, found Lex, and his mouth pulled at the corners.
It was that half-smile that decided things for Lex, the way Barnaby wouldn’t let himself have it in a room full of people, but couldn’t quite stop it happening when he looked at Lex.
He could learn this world. He would learn it for Barnaby, because he had no intention of being anywhere else but in that man’s orbit.
Chapter Sixteen
Barnabywas in the yard at Chatham when his mobile vibrated in his jacket pocket, Meridian’s bridle looped over his arm. He’d pulled it out expecting a message from Lex, who was due down from London on the four forty-two train, and found instead a Google Alert notice that he’d set up years ago to flag any press mentioning the Fitznorman-Bicesters. The alert had three headlines stacked beneath it, all posted within twelve minutes of one another, all leading with the same Palace handout image of Barnaby and Lex sitting next to each other during their Olympic interview.
KING APPOINTS OLYMPIC MEDALLISTS AS JOINT KING’S TRUST AMBASSADORS
ROYAL ENDORSEMENT FOR FITZNORMAN-BICESTER AND MURPHY PAIRING
BLEX GOES OFFICIAL: PALACE NAMES OLYMPIANS TO CHARITY ROLE
He read all three headlines standing in the stable aisle while Meridian nudged his shoulder for a mint. The wordpairingburned into his retina. The Palace press office didn’t use words carelessly. They had drafted this copy knowing exactly what the BLEX fandom would do with it.
Barnaby had agreed to the ambassadorship, but not to being announced as one half of apairing. He hadn’t expected a relationship he was still trying to work out to be thrust into the public eye like this.
He put the phone away and finished Meridian’s tack. He walked his horse back to his box, and it was only then when he was alone in the tack room with the smell of saddle soap and winter hay, that he allowed himself to register the exact shape of what James had done.
He’d allowed his team to publicise a joint appointment, announced without running it past Barnaby. To refuse it now would require him to issue a statement repudiating the King, which he would never do. James had made it structurally impossible to object to being made to play up his tenuous relationship with Lex in public.
Barnaby straightened his jacket. He closed the tack room door behind him, and told himself that his fury would keep. For now, he had to go and meet Lex’s train.
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@samiraboxingstan· 2h
THE KING’S TRUST HAS APPOINTED LEX MURPHY AND BARNABY FITZNORMAN-BICESTER AS JOINT AMBASSADORS. JOINT. AMBASSADORS. FOR. SPORTING. PROGRAMS. THE CROWN HAS LOOKED UPON BLEX ANDSAID “YES, THESE TWO, TOGETHER, OFFICIALLY, ON PALACE LETTERHEAD.” I AM NOT OKAY. I HAVE NEVER BEEN LESS OKAY. THE MONARCHY HAS A SHIP AND IT IS BLEX.
@samiraboxingstan· 2h
replying to self because i cannot be contained: the announcement photo has them STANDING NEXT TO EACH OTHER in the Buckingham Palace courtyard. barnaby is doing the hands-behind-back thing. lex is grinning like a man who has just gotten away with something. they are wearing MATCHING NAVY SUITS. i am going to pass away.
