Chapter 17
Seventeen
Edwin
The party went very well, I thought. Prince James seemed pleased by the outcome, and no fights broke out, so I took the party as a success.
My usual afternoon activities had been interrupted by the event, so I had to work later to make up for it.
The many projects Prince James had going on had me working overtime.
Part of me wanted to cry, but frankly, I found the job worthwhile.
Nearly midnight now, I still, unfortunately, had so much work I couldn’t begin to even think of going to my home in the city.
Most of the gaslights in the office had been turned off, leaving only my and Prince James’s part of the room still lit.
Gaslighting had been retrofitted to the palace about five years ago, and it had been a very good decision.
Definitely more convenient than needing a magician to put up and take down the mage lights all the time. Definitely brighter than lamplight.
Science and innovations were making life easier.
Now, I just needed a machine that could handle my workload, and I’d be set.
Prince James came closer to the desk and set a hot cup of tea down. “Here. You want a cookie?”
Wasn’t this backward? Shouldn’t I be making him tea, offering him a snack? Instead, he was waiting upon me, and he looked completely natural doing so, which somehow made the situation even stranger.
It took a moment for me to find my tongue. “Uh, yes. We have cookies left?”
“Not many.” Prince James immediately doubled back to the sideboard and brought back a single plate with a handful of cookies.
I took one immediately, because only a sugar boost would sustain me through the rest of this work.
I looked him over as I did so, trying to be discreet.
Dark circles bruised his eyes and he moved with a sort of lethargic drag, as if he had no energy to spare.
I didn’t need to ask to know he still wasn’t sleeping well.
And after observing him the past week, he’d definitely lost weight.
I was fairly certain he’d been skipping meals.
Was he the type, like myself, who couldn’t eat when stressed?
Part of me still wanted to offer to read him to sleep, but honestly, I was scared to do so.
Scared of opening that door. Prince James was flirty with me already; if I gave him an opening, he might seize it as an opportunity, and then there’d be no hope for me.
I wasn’t ready to risk my heart, even though I was coming to care for him.
I battled worry for myself and worry for him as well, and I wasn’t sure which would win out in the end.
But he needed to eat. He’d collapse otherwise.
“Your Highness, get a cookie for yourself as well,” I urged him. “Some tea at the least.”
He seemed pleased by my concern, lips curling up at the corners. “I will.”
He did as instructed, grabbing a few cookies and pouring himself a cup of tea, and I only relaxed when I watched him partake of both. At least he had something in his system.
A good two hours ago, Prince James had shooed out anyone with children or elderly parents, which was basically everyone but me and Jo Ann. Jo Ann, however, was fighting a nasty cold, so she’d been sent home at noon, which left just the two of us in this room. It should have been awkward.
It wasn’t, somehow. I still couldn’t put my finger on how.
Prince James so naturally settled in at my side, taking half the work and bending toward it like he’d done this very thing with me thousands of times before… Even fetching me tea was a normal thing now, because he constantly made me peppermint tea.
I pretended to read the proposal in front of me while actually side-eyeing him.
This man was a walking conundrum, and damn if I could figure him out.
On the surface, he was exactly as he appeared to be—a talented businessman turned prince who was charming and dedicated.
The surface impression wasn’t a lie, per se, but it certainly did belie the many things going on underneath that surface.
The simple reality of him remembering a past life was astounding. To remember parts of it in such detail, too! I still wanted to sit with him and help him record everything. Just the battle with the Demon King alone was well worth recording.
I wondered what else he remembered and how much his memory influenced him in this life.
Part of me suspected he remembered much, much more than he’d told me.
It was hard to pinpoint why I felt this way.
It might have been how he maneuvered people so neatly to his plan.
I’d seen him play seasoned nobles this afternoon like he was some kind of maestro of politics.
You didn’t get that good from being a businessman.
He was only twenty-seven, but he handled court politics like he had a decade’s worth of experience.
Other things caused me to wonder, too. One of the servants had commented on Prince James being good with names and faces.
While not wrong—he did seem to have such a talent—that didn’t explain why he knew everyone.
And I did mean everyone. He’d only been in the palace a month, but I had yet to facilitate a single introduction.
Yesterday he’d even greeted one of the palace runners—a boy barely hired the week before—by name and inquired after his family.
I hadn’t even gotten the boy’s name yet!
On top of that, I swore he had the whole palace and grounds memorized. He never got lost, never asked for directions or for someone to lead him. He claimed he’d never been to the palace before the adoption, and rarely in the city, which felt like a lie because of how confidently he navigated.
There was something here, some explanation as to why he was so confident and familiar with this place and its people. Damn if I could put a finger on it, though. This mystery was like an itch I couldn’t scratch.
Prince James abruptly flopped back in the chair, head on the back at a crooked angle. “My eyes can’t take much more of this.”
“If this wasn’t due by eight a.m. tomorrow, I’d say let’s quit.”
“Ugh, I know. The deadline’s evil. They only set it to piss me off.”
“I wish I could refute that, but, well…” I grimaced and sipped my tea.
The crown prince’s people were very, very against Prince James.
Despite the fact that Prince Victor was a waste of space and air, he did have supporters.
Mostly cronies who liked to take advantage of him.
They’d set this deadline for Prince Royce’s health fund budget proposal mostly to give Prince James a hard time.
Well, that and to mess with Prince Royce—no one really liked him because he didn’t play their games.
I eyed the man sitting next to me again with a different thought.
Out of everyone in the royal family, Prince James was the savviest. Not just with his people skills—which were excellent—but his ability to work things out in his favor while giving the other person the impression that he completely agreed with them.
Even people against his adoption could find no fault with him, which irritated them so, so much.
Prince James had his eyes closed but still asked, “What?”
He seemed to like me being blunt with him, so I tried it now. “Why are you against being king?”
“Too many pitfalls.”
I didn’t see it that way. Not at all. “Prince Victor can’t be dragged out of a gambling den or brothel, Prince Royce only wants to be in his lab, and Princess Helena has the people skills and interest, but no one really takes her seriously. Out of everyone, you’d make the best king by far.”
He cracked open one eye. “I used to like you.”
His grumbling complaint made me grin in return. “Come now, you know I’m right.”
“Bite your tongue. I don’t care if you are.” He straightened, then stretched his arms overhead with a groan. “I’ve been sitting here too long, clearly. To answer you, Edwin, it’s because there are truly too many pitfalls. Plus, time. You do remember I’m still running my business?”
He had a manager—several in fact—who came in and out of this office on a regular basis to get his approval for certain things. So yes, that much was clear. “I do.”
“That takes time and mental capacity. I refuse to give it up. I grew my business from what my grandparents started, and like hell I’ll give it over unless a very compelling reason comes along.
I worked like a mad dog from fifteen years old to twenty-four, barely sleeping, to manage it. I won’t give it up.”
“You really took over at fifteen?”
“My maternal grandfather trained me, said I was already doing far better than he and that I possessed the ideas and gumption to take it places. My family didn’t have a good textile factory back then.
We’d mostly imported our paper. I discovered that hemp grows four times as fast and makes far more paper than trees, so I set up a business under that premise.
It was a learning curve—gods above, was it ever—but we now have a domestic paper supply because of it. ”
King’s Paper was a household name. Formal cards, scratch paper, art paper, envelopes, journals—if it had paper involved, it was likely a King’s Paper product.
I knew Prince James was filthy rich because of his business, but I hadn’t known he’d set it up himself.
It made more sense now why he refused to let go of it.
“I believe, in fact, some of your siblings are my employees.”
Again, something he shouldn’t have known. And yet somehow did. “My youngest brother and two cousins.”
“Aren’t you the youngest child of the bunch?”
“Youngest of seven.” I eyed him suspiciously. “Have you been digging into my background?”
He waved this off. “People talk. I happen to have two functioning ears.”
It sounded legitimate, but I had a distinct feeling I’d just been lied to. “As you say.”
“How did you start here at the palace, anyway?”