39. Alexei #3
I close my eyes briefly, letting it settle. Letting him settle.
“I can’t lose you,” she whispers. There’s no strength in it. Complete truth. “Please… stay with me.”
I straighten, taking her hand from my face and holding it between both of mine. “As my queen wishes,” I murmur.
Her lips soften at the corners, but her eyes remain steady. “It’s our loss,” she reminds me. “Let me carry it with you.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“I want to.” There’s no hesitation. “That’s what this is,” she continues. “It won’t always be easy. Some days will break us a little.” A faint, sad smile touches her lips. “But we survived. Together.”
I studied her for a moment. Then I nod once. “You sound just like him,” I utter quietly.
When I meet her gaze, she is still watching me, not searching, not questioning. There. Steady.
I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a slow kiss to her knuckles before threading our fingers together again.
“Guess I don’t get to argue with him or you anymore,” I murmur, a faint, almost-smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
Her answering smile is soft, but this time, it reaches her eyes.
And for the first time since we laid him to rest, the silence that follows doesn’t feel empty.
Then she leans in, brushing her lips against mine, soft, brief, grounding.
“I don’t deserve you,” I admit against her mouth.
She huffs out the smallest breath of a laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Her arms slide around me, pulling me in, and I don’t resist. I let her. I let myself.
For a moment, I allow the weight, the anguish, the guilt, the loss, to exist without trying to carry it alone.
It’s still there. It doesn’t disappear. But now it shifts. A little lighter.
“Let’s go home,” I say quietly.
She pulls back to look at me, her eyes shining, but steady. “Home,” she echoes.
This time, the word doesn’t feel foreign. Not entirely.
Not when she says it.
A few days later, I stand behind my desk, the weight of the crown feeling heavier than the gold it’s forged from.
Braydon, Lance, and Blake line up before me, each one standing a fraction straighter than usual, shoulders squared, chins lifted, eyes sharp. Soldiers awaiting command. Men who have stood beside me in blood and fire.
Men I trust with everything.
“There is no one else I trust more than the three of you,” I start, my gaze moving from one to the next.
The shift is subtle, but I see it. Braydon’s jaw tightens. Lance’s spine locks. Blake’s usual easy posture firms into something steadier.
Good.
“Elena and I have made a decision,” I continue.
“As king, my place is here, leading, governing. But my strength has always been in protection. In strategy. In keeping this kingdom safe.” I pause as I assess the three of them.
“I can’t be king, Director of Security, and head of my own protection detail. ”
Their eyes flicker, quick, knowing.
Lance doesn’t move, but I feel Braydon and Blake glance toward him.
I follow their instinct. Then I look down. Three badges rest on the polished surface of my desk, gold catching the light. New. Untouched. Waiting.
I pick up the first one, turning it between my fingers. It’s not heavy, but it carries weight all the same.
“You know...” My voice catches for the briefest moment, and I swallow past the tightness in my throat.
“One of the wisest—and best—men I ever knew once told me that the most important part of this job is to assess before you act.” I pause, my words settling over me with the same quiet certainty they always had.
“It was a gift he possessed without even trying. That’s what made him the best.” A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips before fading.
“And it’s why his shoes are still impossible to fill. ”
I lift my head, my gaze moving from one face to the next, lingering on each of them. The steady set of their shoulders. The unwavering conviction in their eyes. Men who’d bled beside me, carried impossible burdens, and never once asked someone else to bear them instead.
My assessment finally becomes clear. I don’t have to carry this alone.
Not anymore.
Not when I have three men who are more than capable—who have been for a long time—of helping lead whatever comes next.
“Braydon.”
He steps forward instantly.
“I trusted you with Zurdonia while we were gone,” I say, lifting my gaze to meet his. “And you didn’t just hold it together, you strengthened it.”
His expression doesn’t change much, but there’s something there. Pride. Disbelief. Maybe both.
I extend the badge toward him. “I’m promoting you to Deputy Director of Royal Security.”
For a moment, he stares at it. Then at me. Then back at the badge again. His hand lifts slowly, like he’s not entirely convinced this is real, until the metal presses into his palm. His fingers close around it. Tight.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he says, voice lower than usual. Rougher.
“Does that mean you accept?” I ask, a hint of something lighter slipping into my tone.
That earns me a quick breath of a laugh. “Yes, sir. Of course.”
“Good.” I nod once, then reach for the second badge. “Lance.”
He steps forward without hesitation.
“I know you never wanted command,” I point out, holding the badge out to him.
“You’ve always preferred action over titles.
” A flicker of something crosses his face, recognition.
“But I also know there’s no one better to shape the future of this agency.
” He takes the badge from my hand, his grip firm.
“Assistant Deputy Director of Royal Security. You will remain as Braydon’s second in command, but you’ll oversee training.
Every new agent coming through these ranks will answer to you. ”
“Thank you, sir.”
Simple. Direct. Exactly who he is.
I nod, already turning toward Blake. He is watching me with that familiar edge of amusement, like he’s already guessing.
“Blake.” I exhale slowly through my nose. “We’ve had our differences.”
His grin falters, a fraction. “Yeah,” he mutters.
I meet his gaze, letting the silence stretch long enough. “But when it mattered… You showed up.”
That grin comes back, smaller this time. Less cocky. More real.
“You’re stepping into Braydon’s former role. Office in charge of the Royal Protection.” I hold the badge out. “You’ll be responsible for all exit strategies. Tactical movement. You stay with us, at all times.”
His hand snaps out, plucking the badge from my palm. “I knew you always liked me,” he teases, grin widening again.
“Don’t push it,” I shoot back, though the corner of my mouth lifts.
I step back, letting my gaze sweep across all three of them.
“You are the best Zurdonia has to offer,” I announce. “And I’m trusting you with its future.”
Three nods. Three men who would lay down their lives without hesitation.
A knock cuts through the moment.
“Come in.”
The door cracks open and Abby slips inside, a little breathless, a little flushed.
“Sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty?—”
“It’s fine.” I already read the tension in her posture. “What is it?”
She hesitates. Then rushes, “King Linus and Prince Rogan from North Sosova are here.”
The room stills.
“Where?” I ask sharply.
“In the sitting room. Queen Elena asked me to check if you were available.”
I’m already moving. “Braydon. Lance. With me.”
They fall in behind me without a word. The walk is short, but tight. Controlled. Every step is measured. We round the corner.
Elena is already there, waiting. Her eyes find mine instantly. “What do you think they want?” she asks.
My jaw tightens. “I don’t know,” I answer. “But we’re about to find out.” I turn slightly. “Wait here.”
Braydon and Lance take positions against the wall.
I offer my arm. Elena slips her hand through mine without hesitation, and together, we step inside.
They turn at the sound of the door. King Linus first. Then his son.
I let my gaze land on the prince, and hold it. He lasts three seconds before looking away. Pathetic. Then I shift to the king. He bows. Unexpectedly.
“Thank you for seeing us,” King Linus begins.
Elena’s voice is smooth beside me. “This is… a surprise.”
“We came as soon as we learned what my son had done,” the king advises.
I study him. Breath. Posture. Eyes. No flinch. No stutter. “Are you telling me,” I ask evenly, “you knew nothing?”
“I am.”
Silence fills the space between us.
“And before you answer,” I add, taking a slow step forward, “if you lie to me…I will know.”
King Linus doesn’t flinch. His chin dips in a single, measured nod. “I am aware of your reputation, King Alexei. We did not come here to lie.” His hands clasp behind his back, fingers tightening briefly before stilling. “We came to make amends.”
I watch him. Not his words…his body. The rise and fall of his chest. The cadence of his breath. The steady rhythm beneath his collar. His eyes don’t dart. His shoulders don’t shift. No hesitation. No fracture.
Nothing.
No lie.
I glance at Elena. One look is enough. She gives a small nod.
“Forgive us,” Prince Rogan speaks up, stepping forward enough to insert himself into the space.
His lips curl into a smile that doesn’t belong in this room.
“Though I must admit… I understand now why my brother went to such lengths.” His gaze drags, slow, deliberate, over Elena. “You are absolutely breathtaking.”
The air changes around us. Sharpens.
“Rogan—” King Linus snaps under his breath.
But I’m already looking at him. I don’t move. Don’t raise my voice. I let my stare do all the talking.
“It’s alright,” I say calmly, though there’s nothing calm about the tension coiling in my chest. My eyes never leave the prince. “Words could never do my wife’s beauty justice.” My jaw tightens. “But actions…” I let the word hang, unfinished. Promising.
The prince swallows. Hard.
“Yes, of course,” King Linus interjects quickly, lifting his hands slightly in a placating gesture. “We did not come here to repeat any disrespect.” He shoots his son a look. “Did we?”
Prince Rogan wipes at the sheen of sweat forming above his lip. “No. Of course not.”
“Good.” I don’t bother with pleasantries. “Why are you here?”