Chapter 33
Thirty-three
Edwin
Fortunately, the renovations on my house didn’t take too long.
The three days they did take chafed at me because it meant being away from James all day, which I no longer liked doing.
Also, reading through his notebook left me with a growing list of questions.
I’d ask as many as I could when we met up for dinner, but he was exhausted by then and I felt bad trying to ask everything at once.
Still, he continued to explain, and I continued to study everything he’d told me, hoping to avoid the next catastrophe.
Because of the Wrath’s destruction, we—the secretarial staff—had voluntarily chosen to work full weekends as well.
There was just so much to do, most of it hand in hand with helping people find relief in this disastrous situation.
It felt wrong to not work longer to make sure all those bills were paid, the invoices sent out, the workers directed.
That said, James was entirely too happy to see me back in the office. The man was practically beside himself. Sometimes he’d look up and grin, as if seeing me there was an absolute delight. I’d strangle him for the time lost if it wasn’t so sweet.
How did one ignore a man who utterly adored you to this level? I certainly had no defenses against it. Nor wanted them. I’d somehow been handed this incredible, beautiful man who treated me like the moon and stars existed because of me.
Past me, what did you do? It must have been quite something to get James to fall so incredibly in love with me.
Shaking the thought off, I stood from my desk and crossed the three feet to his, handing him a file.
“I need your signature here, Your Highness.”
What should have been a routine request instead made James freeze in place and give me this Look like I’d said something amazingly hurtful.
“What?” I asked uneasily.
“Are you mad at me?”
I stared at him and questioned my own memory for a second. “How does me asking you for a signature say I’m mad at you?”
“Because you’re still addressing me by title.”
Oh, that was the issue. No, wait, what the hell? “We’re at work.”
This man, who I knew could cleave a tree trunk in two with a single swing, who was a dynamic and charismatic leader, sat there and pouted at me. Full lip pout, arms crossed over his chest, actively sulking.
I could not believe my eyes.
“James,” he said. “I am only James to you.”
I leaned in closer to hiss, “What the hell are you saying? I do not have the right of familiarity. I’m not calling you by your name in public!”
“I gave you the right,” he argued back, not precisely in a whisper. “And if you keep calling me by my title, I refuse to do any work.”
I was hyperaware of every eye in this room on us. Oh, my colleagues were trying to pretend they weren’t watching the whole show, but the weight of their attention pressed in on me. I felt caught between a rock and a hard place—not a feeling I appreciated.
“I’ve pretended I don’t love you once,” James muttered, glaring at the desk as if it had done something to insult his ancestry. “I won’t do it again.”
Shit. All right, now I had a better understanding of where this was coming from. After everything he’d told me about our first life, I could sympathize with not wanting to fall into the same pitfalls. Still, must we create new pitfalls?
James pouted harder.
You know what? Fuck it. Fine. If he was so dead set on this, he could deal with whatever fallout came our way.
So far none of my worst nightmares about dating a royal had come true, aside from hearing a few whispers.
The whispers were something I deliberately ignored.
My relationship with James was between the two of us and not anyone else’s business.
What really mattered was why he was acting childish. Underneath the pout was a great deal of hurt and remembered pain, and I wouldn’t leave it unaddressed.
I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him up to plant a swift kiss on his mouth. I pulled back just as quickly, heat in my cheeks because, again, I wasn’t comfortable with this sort of display in public. But I also didn’t regret my actions.
James stared at me with stunned eyes.
“Do your damn work, James.”
A brilliant smile took over his face as he caroled back, “Yes, dear heart.”
Rolling my eyes, I took myself back to my desk. Every person in the room followed me with their gaze even as I plonked into my seat. No way would they let this go, so I might as well get the questioning over with.
“If you want the story, drinks after work,” I announced.
James cheerfully volunteered, “I’ll buy the first round.”
My eyes cut to him. He was not to be trusted in this mood. “You’re just going to brag.”
“With you, my love, there’s a great deal to brag about.”
I would be tomato red the rest of the day at this rate. “Will you please just sign that damn report?”
He cackled like a mad hen and put pen to paper.
It was too early in the relationship for me to want to strangle him. Right?
Princess Helena sailed through the door, already chiding her brother. “James, really, stop teasing Edwin. You’re so giddy you’ve become silly with it.”
James noticeably did not disagree and signed the report with a flourish. “What brings you here, Helena?”
“You said you had a plan,” she reminded him. “I want to speak to you and Edwin about it.”
Eh? Me?
My confusion must have shown on my face because Helena said, “Remember? My plan to get rid of my fiancé. I want you on my side for this.”
Ah, that. Yes, it was time to follow up now that our spies had gathered all the information. At first, I hadn’t been sure which plan because we were juggling so many balls in the air.
James stood and rounded his desk, where he reclined against the front, ankles crossed, and made a single, sharp clap. “Everyone, a moment.”
Like he hadn’t already had everyone’s attention.
“My sister, as you know, is in a dire predicament. We are going to help her out of it. Several informants have given me information”—he inclined his head toward Stedman—“and so has Helena. Now it’s time to put all our good intel into practice.
Namely, I think it’s time to throw a nice luncheon party to help her ‘celebrate.’”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Just how badly are you going to destroy Gillespie?”
He grinned mischievously. “Badly.”
Princess Helena clapped in delight. “Good! I hoped we had enough to do so. He’s just got such thick armor around him, what with his parents and my mother on his side.”
“Ah, but not your father, not completely.” James held up a finger, still smirking.
“And I can sway your father very, very well to our side. He doesn’t trust your mother’s matchmaking skills anyway, so this won’t be a hard sell.
I think a luncheon with lots and lots of witnesses will do the trick nicely.
Everyone knows Gillespie is a simpleton, but they think he’s harmless.
Once they realize just how corrupt he is, the opinion about marrying you off to a buffoon will flip immediately. ”
I had no doubt he was right. Already, people spoke unhappily about the union, feeling like the country’s only princess could do far better in her marriage. Only Marchioness Gillespie and Queen Beatrice were happy, making them very much in the minority.
Another man quickly entered the room. He looked familiar to me, somehow, although I couldn’t place him.
Which was strange, as I was quite good with names and faces.
He looked very…normal. Average height for a man, not skinny, not overweight, copper skin with a day laborer’s clothes covering everything but his face and hands.
Even his face was half covered by a cap pulled low over his eyes.
James turned his head, spying him, and said, “Ah, Tremon, what brings you here?”
“Urgent news,” Tremon explained with a bow to both James and Princess Helena. “You need to move tonight, Your Highness.”
James abruptly straightened to speak with him more head-on. “Why, what’s happened?”
“I—” Tremon abruptly stopped and gave everyone a wary look.
In that second, my mind put it together. Tremon. I knew the name; it was written in James’s book as one of the spies following Gillespie. Shit, if he was here, something truly had happened.
“Everyone in this room is trustworthy,” James assured him.
“In fact, before you leave, let me introduce you to them. If I’m not available, report to them.
Everyone, this is Tremon, my personal spy.
He normally covers issues like corporate espionage, but I pulled him to have him follow Gillespie, just in case.
All right, Tremon, what the hell did the idiot do now? ”
“It’s a combination of idiots,” Tremon corrected, grimacing.
“I unfortunately didn’t hear the full conversation, but Prince Victor and Gillespie met in a rather, er”—his eyes flashed to Princess Helena in apology—“unsavory place last night and got to talking. Prince Victor directed Lord Gillespie to bring a certain young lady to him by tonight.”
I groaned, already sick of the pair of them.
“Whatever for?” Princess Helena demanded, voice rising in outrage.
“That’s unfortunately the part I didn’t get to hear, but from how they discussed it, she’s to be payment for some service rendered by Prince Victor.”
And somehow this became even more disgusting.
“Who?” James demanded, his anger quiet, hands clenched into fists. “Did you get her name?”
Tremon didn’t look happy at all as he answered, contempt in the flat line of his mouth. “Julia Crovan.”
Somehow this just got worse. I threw up in my soul a little bit.
Everyone in the room made a noise of surprise and disgust at the same time.
Julia Crovan was just a girl, barely fifteen.
The only daughter of Duke Meltas Crovan, she was incredibly beautiful and, unfortunately, somewhat spoiled.
Her interest in Prince Victor was well known amongst society, but still, even she didn’t deserve to be given to Prince Victor for his slimy pleasure.
“Girl’s not even of marriage age yet,” Jo Ann muttered behind me in condemnation. “Why her?”
I didn’t know why Victor had chosen her as a target, and it was likely a whim more than anything, so no point in guessing. When I realized something else, it put a chill over my heart.
According to James, in our first life, no one had stopped Victor from bedding Julia Crovan, which resulted in a child.
A child absolutely no one wanted. Duke Crovan had demanded the prince marry his daughter and make it right or, at the very least, acknowledge the child as royalty.
The thing was, though, this wasn’t the first son Victor had sired.
Far from it, actually. The baby was, like, the sixth or seventh of his sons.
None of those children had even been acknowledged except for the mothers being given a stipend for child-rearing expenses.
Duke Crovan’s demand was a slap in the face to the other mothers, but also, this was very dicey terrain to cross.
In order to legitimize the baby, Julia Crovan would have had to marry Prince Victor.
If acknowledged, the baby would have been in the line of succession, and absolutely no one in the royal family wanted that.
Having the Crovans tied to a prince would have meant backing Victor’s right to take the throne. A fate that must be avoided.
But not legitimizing the son had resulted in catastrophe. When the country next faced a serious problem—namely the Demon King rising—Duke Crovan had refused to send aid. Not money, supplies, or manpower. The dearth of his support had damn near ended the country.
My eyes met James’s, and I saw his remembered stress and horror. No wonder James had two spies following the troublemakers. And thank Vuheia he had, otherwise this disaster would have repeated itself without us knowing.
“You’re right, Tremon,” James said quietly. “We must stop this from happening. Helena, apologies, can we delay our planning for now?”
“Absolutely,” she assured him. “If anything, this might give us more fuel for the fire. Should we warn Duke Crovan?”
That was what I would have done, but I could tell from the evil glint in my lover’s eye he didn’t intend to. I eyed him warily, absolutely sure he was going to do something I wouldn’t approve of.
“James,” I warned, “whatever you’re about to say, be sensible, please.”
His grin widened. “Dearest, how about we go join them tonight?”
I sighed. From my soul. There was his craziness. “You’re going to catch them in the act.”
“I am. I’ll protect the girl from being violated, but I think her being caught with the crown prince will very nicely put a few more nails in various coffins.” The child with a prank up his sleeve was back. “Oh, this will be quite fun. Helena, I think you should join us.”
“Well, someone has to chaperone the girl, so I’d better.”
I looked between the two siblings, saw the same expression of evil glee upon their faces, and abruptly gave up. There was no use. They were determined to do this and would likely have fun to boot.
I’d best rally the knights. If this didn’t dissolve into a fight, I’d be quite surprised.