Chapter 69
Sixty-nine
James
I returned from meeting Priest Edes, feeling quite hopeful for the future.
With the major temples working on the problem, with excellent information at hand, I could only hope we’d be able to mitigate any of the truly awful events of the future.
I was worried still about the Demon King rising, because Nimus giving us the tome was quite the hint, but there wasn’t much I could do right this second.
I had delegated all the right tasks to prevent his return to my people—I had to trust them to do the job.
On a trolley cart next to my desk sat an elegantly wrapped present. It caught my eye, so I lifted the card to see who had sent it: Valentina.
Oh hell no.
I promptly moved backward and pointed to the cart. “Send that back.”
Sir Collins and Sir Osbourne shared a speaking look, like they’d known I’d say that, and removed the cart without another word.
I knew they were obligated to deliver any present sent to me, but Zinos take me, must we do this song and dance?
Also, what the hell was Valentina thinking, trying to buy her way into my good graces?
She could offer me all of Ascor and it would be insufficient.
Really, the only gift she could offer that I would accept was the gift of her absence.
Hopefully that was the only snake in this pile of things.
Lying in my chair—people left the important notes in my chair and not on my desk for fear it would get lost in the sea of papers—was a simple note. I read it, then snorted a laugh.
The letter was from Royce, a simple two lines: Congrats again on being king. Can you double my funding?
So very typical of him. I looked up at Roland and said, “Double Royce’s funding.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I’d thought I would mind being addressed as such again, the title sitting uncomfortably, considering how hard I’d fought against regaining it. Strangely, though, the appellation didn’t feel the same as in the last lifetime. Not nearly as terrible or weighty, merely familiar and oddly reassuring.
Edwin would struggle with the formality for a while, though. The look on his face whenever he was called “Your Majesty” amused me to no end, like he wanted to argue but knew he couldn’t. Poor love, but he’d adapt. I knew he would.
The office door burst inward, and I jumped in alarm. What was the emergen—oh.
It was only Victor.
I sighed, already tired, and the argument hadn’t even started yet.
Look at him, breathing hard, all red in the face.
He looked like he’d had dirty closet sex with a diseased mop.
Had he even bathed in the past two days?
Why did he reek of stale beer, cigarette smoke, and putrid sweat when he hadn’t been out of the palace?
Or had he recreated his own favorite den of iniquity inside his rooms?
He likely had.
“You,” he seethed, wild eyed and nearly screaming. “You are not king!”
“Shall I pull out the document so you can see the signatures and seals yourself?” I locked eyes with him and waited him out.
I think he wanted to call my bluff, only the serious look on my face told him it wasn’t one. I could produce said document. Easily, in fact, since it was currently sitting in my office safe.
Victor rallied. “My parents would never have just handed you the throne without a single word to me!”
“Victor. I know they were stringing you along, dangling the throne like a carrot to make you behave, but surely you must realize the throne isn’t something you can have.
They’ve already exiled you. That’s how little they think of you.
Frankly, the only reason you’re still here is because you’re engaged to Valentina, and I can’t legally kick her out.
The second I find a way to manage it, you’ll be thrown back into exile as well. ”
He flinched, looking lost and devastated.
I couldn’t quite dredge up full pity, though. Maybe, like, ten percent. He’d done so much to harm everyone around him without any care, it was hard to feel any sort of sympathy for him.
“I want…I want you to turn over—”
“No.”
“This is my birthright!” he screamed so hard spit came with the words.
I only rolled my eyes. “No. Victor, no one wants you to be king. Not a blessed soul. Judge Galbraith will never sign off on it.”
“That foggy bastard doesn’t approve of anyone!”
“He approved of me. And Edwin. Chuckled in delight as he put his signature to the page.”
Victor rocked back on his heels, stunned. “Edwin… Wait, your secretary?”
“I’m shocked you remember him. Yes, the same. Well, former, now. He’s co-ruler as of two days ago.”
“You made a commoner king?!”
“The commoner was already doing your share of the work before I ever arrived. Remember? You’re wholly unnecessary, Victor.
You made yourself redundant. People learned they could get along swimmingly without you.
In fact, it was better to cut you out entirely rather than rely on you.
Why would anyone want you for a king when you couldn’t even do the job of a prince? ”
Again, that lost expression. Like he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea. “But I am a prince!”
“Not anymore, remember? You were stripped of the name and titles.”
“You—” He sucked in a breath, seemingly to steady himself. “You can’t just make that man king, though. Our parents won’t allow it.”
“Your parents signed over all rights and power to me. They can squawk all they want, but they can’t do shit. Judge Galbraith signed off on Edwin being king as well. It’s not a matter of I can’t make Edwin a monarch—he already is.”
I saw my words hit and then trickle through the rest of his alcohol-addled mind. It took a minute. Then he went very, very white.
All the fight seemed to drain out of him. His next words came out in a whisper. “They signed everything over to you?”
“All of it.”
“I… Why?”
“Because it was the only way I’d agree to be king.”
He seemed on the verge of tears. “They were willing to give up all power just to get you on the throne?”
I didn’t answer, as it was obvious enough and the final blow to his pride.
Here Victor had been clawing at every opportunity to be named king, only to be denied and rejected, again and again.
Facing off with the man his parents had practically begged to take the throne must be like a slap in the face.
With him so down like this, I might have an opportunity to possibly talk sense into him. Wild concept, I knew, but my gut said it might work.
“Victor, your parents are divorcing. Will be divorced by the end of today, in fact.”
It was like delivering a swift kick to a man already in the fetal position.
Seriously, I felt like I was abusing him.
Clearly, no one had informed him of much of anything.
How had he even learned I was now king? Palace gossip?
Likely the case. I hadn’t gotten around to dealing with him yet, that’d been on tomorrow’s do-list, but since he was here, I might as well address it.
“After the divorce is finalized, they’ll go their separate ways, to locations of their choosing.
I’ll offer you the same deal they made with you, with some adjustments and caveats.
You’re going into exile one way or another.
At bare minimum, you are exiled from the capital.
You can choose your vacation house—a folly, one of the manor houses, whatever—and I will deed it over to you.
You may have it fully staffed with a set budget for the rest of your life.
Or you can take one lump sum and live anywhere you like but never enter this country again.
The caveat is we don’t know how Ascor is going to handle you absconding with their princess.
If they demand you are imprisoned, I will comply.
If they demand you marry her, you’ll be shipped to Ascor and banned from Zuskal.
Lenville arrives today in Ascor, so hopefully we’ll hear their demands soon.
If you go to them, you’ll be entirely at their mercy.
Also, no matter what you do, Valentina has to leave as well, as she’s here without permission or escort. What say you?”
He came close enough to put both hands on the edge of my desk, leaning heavily as if the weight of this decision was too much to be borne without support. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes on the floor and his head down so much I couldn’t see his expression.
Finally, he acquiesced with a small nod. “I’ll take the manor house. You must also pay off my debts.”
They weren’t small, so that was a considerable ask, but the debtors did have to be paid one way or another. They’d come after him once he left, so while some part of me winced, I agreed. “Fine. Do you have a location in mind?”
Another long pause before he finally lifted his head to look at me. “Did Father choose Baedcove?”
“He did not.” Baedcove Mansion was much farther south of here, practically on our southern border and right next to both a touristy city and a beach.
It was a favorite vacation spot for the beach alone.
I could always get another beach house. Frankly, if giving Victor this one victory was enough to get him to sign, then so be it.
“Baedcove, thirty thousand gold a month, and fully staffed. Plus your debts here paid off.”
“Fine. Fine, I’ll sign. I…” He didn’t seem to know what else to say.
“I’ll deliver the agreement to your room before the end of the day. Keep in mind, it is provisional upon Ascor’s demands. Either way, start packing. And a list of your debts would not be amiss.”
“I’ll have my retainer give it to you.” Victor fully straightened and stared at me for a long moment. “I hate you. You know that.”
“I do.” The feeling wasn’t mutual because I rarely hated anyone. Well, I did Valentina, but she’d more than earned it. Victor had always been a stupid annoyance.
He snorted, no humor in the sound, just self-mockery. “I guess you won.”
“It wasn’t a competition, Victor. I didn’t want the throne.”
“But you still got it.” Victor shook his head and stumbled out, and unless my ears deceived me, a soft sob escaped his throat. He likely felt his world was collapsing in on him. I could only shake my head. He’d fucked everything up on his own; it wasn’t like anyone had done this to him.
Besides, many a person in this world would give their eyeteeth to have his bargain. A fully staffed house with a padded budget for the rest of your life? Just for breathing? They’d give more than their eyeteeth. And here he was, heartbroken.
That one was truly past saving.
Also, I felt like he’d capitulated too quickly. I didn’t trust it. I turned, motioning toward Stedman. “I need you to do two things.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” He popped up and crossed to my desk.
“First, contact all of Victor’s staff and discreetly assure them they do not need to follow him to Baedcove if they don’t want to. Tell them if they do, however, then I will give them a twenty-five percent raise. It’s entirely up to them whether they take the offer or stay here.”
Stedman nodded. “Wise of you. Some might be swayed by the money, and it’s better he has staff who know how to handle him.”
“Exactly my thought process. Second, grab one of my spies and set them to watching Victor. He capitulated too quickly, and it’s conversely making me suspicious.”
“Ha, yes, agreed there. I also found it strange. I’ll get right on it.”
Hopefully it was just my paranoia at play here. If Victor left quietly, I’d be the happiest to see him off. He’d caused quite enough drama to last several lifetimes.