“Beats Good Boy,” I muttered.
Jessica’s eyes twinkled. “Only by a little. I figured you were about to work yourself right into a panic attack by now, not knowing who’d purchased him, so I wanted to come over and tell you I’d gotten him. I wasn’t taking any chances. That’s your horse. Just like his brother is my horse. I like that our horses are brothers! I told my father if he pitched a fit about buying you Baby, I’d start making scenes. I’m still going to make scenes because fuck him.”
When Princess Jessica started cursing in earnest, she had a reason for it. I lifted my hand and pinched the bridge of my nose. “What did your father do now?”
“He brought that teenaged brat here trying to convince me I wanted to marry a child. Again. I’m being forced into taking desperate measures.”
As her desperate measures involved a hell of a lot more than filling paperwork out at a courthouse and finding a willing preacher, I closed my eyes and cast a few prayers skyward hoping for the wisdom I’d need to survive her scheming. “Good Lord, Jessica. Just say no and tell that there congress of his that you ain’t marrying a child. Also, refuse to sign any paperwork of any sort without it being verified.”
“Yes, I’m doing that. Thank you for that advice before. I really appreciate it. He hasn’t tried anything yet, but that old bastard is desperate.”
“Excuse me?” His Royal Majesty, the King of Texas, demanded, approaching the table. “While I believe you’re ready to stoop to sexual assault, it’s a perfectly reasonable betrothal option.”
“Like fucking hell it’s a perfectly reasonable betrothal option!” Jessica whirled around and she pressed her back against me in what I translated to be a defense position. “Cut off a year or two and that little brat is half my age, Dad. No. I don’t care if it’s legalized, it’s still disgusting. I absolutely will not. I will not. You can take your crown and shove it straight up your advisors’ asses if you think I’m going to be partner to that shit.” Jessica held up one hand, her fingers splayed. “Five years, asshole. That’s as far as I’m willing to negotiate. I will not cradle rob a prince from a disgusting kingdom of perverts.”
My brows shot up at her language, and I eased my legs over the bench so I’d have a better view of the feud between father and daughter. In person, the king seemed a lot shorter and more tired than I expected, and I almost laughed at our attire; we’d both gone for plaid shirts and black hats and dusty jeans. His boots had seen a lot more wear and tear than mine.
Jessica glanced at me, and when she realized my lap was available for her use, she sat.
Okay. Maybe I’d die at the king’s hand by the end of the day, but I’d go out having had my favorite woman in the world keeping my lap warm. Before I could react, she grabbed hold of my hands and wrapped them around her waist.
Yep, I’d be dead by the end of the day.
“What do you think you’re doing, Jessica?”
“Making it clear I’ve already made my decision. I’m sitting on his lap, and I bought him a horse today because he worked too damned hard to lose him to our pathetic system. That horse belongs to him. No other. Him. You saw the video. You saw how scared Baby was when I had to get him moved to the new stall. Oh, Pat? I had to borrow Morning Glory. I could only get Baby moved using her to convince him he wasn’t going to be whipped. That stable manager—Branst, I think?—helped. I was able to get him moved, but he’s rattled. He’s going to need some tender loving care and reassurance. I put him in the secure stable because I didn’t want anyone touching your horse. I wasn’t supposed to move Morning Glory, but I wasn’t taking any risks with her, either.”
I had no idea what to say. Nothing seemed sufficient. “Thank you, Jessica.”
“You’re welcome. Dad, this is Patrick Laycal, and he’s the gentleman who cooked us lunch. He’s also the gentleman who helped me when the olive oil was poisoned. He found out what was causing the problem for me, and he made sure I had a place to go when I wasn’t sure what I could eat.”
Everyone around us fell quiet, and I wondered if I could get away with hiding under the picnic table. It didn’t take me long to determine I had nowhere to go. It occurred to me I wouldn’t have to hide anything anymore, which released something in my chest. I clasped my hands together to help hide their quivering.
My entire body quivered, and I doubted how much longer I’d last before I needed to crawl to the nearest bed, truck or otherwise, for some sleep.
“Mr. Laycal,” the king greeted.
“Your Majesty,” I replied, almost grateful Jessica trapped me and kept me from making an utter fool of myself.
“Please tell me she at least discussed this scheme of hers before resorting to sexual assault.”
I blinked and peeked around her. I supposed an unrequested kiss counted as sexual assault, but I’d gone directly from shocked to giddy but too tired to figure out how to express to Jessica I’d be interested in a second assault. And she’d technically asked first to help her make a scene. “I’m not feeling very assaulted right now, sexual or otherwise, Your Majesty. As for her planning, I would hardly consider her efforts to secure her long-term happiness to be scheming. She’s obviously uncomfortable with marrying a child, and it seems that a future monarch trapped in an unhappy marriage will not be in a position to rule well or efficiently. Won’t she have enough difficulties raising a kingdom without having to worry about raising her husband, too? Seems to me she’s being quite sensible, really. A child is hardly going to be qualified to help her rule a kingdom or solve any problems regarding future children. A five year gap seems reasonable to me.”
“Because you fit into a five year gap?”
Jessica giggled and held up her hand again, her fingers splayed. “Exchange years for months. He’s my age. More importantly, I feel safe with him unlike any of those pedigreed goons you keep throwing my way. Remind me to thank my mother for putting her foot down and refusing any asinine betrothal agreements.”
“You’re welcome,” Jessica’s mother said, emerging from behind the king. “Good afternoon, Mr. Laycal. Thank you for the chicken. It was wonderful as always.”
“You’re welcome, Your Majesty.”
“See? This is already going better than you thought it would, darling. The lad’s perfectly polite, calm as can be, and handling everything our Jessica throws at him. And, unlike your misguided, unwise, and flat-out stupid attempts to forge her a partnership with a bunch of inbred idiots, he’s obviously treating her right. He hasn’t peeped a complaint, she’s mostly using her manners, and he’s worked miracles with the horses he’s responsible for. What else could you possibly want?”
“A magical talent,” the king countered.
“Darling, take a look at our daughter, take a look at him, and take a look at that devil of a horse he tamed in three weeks. What more magic do you possibly want? Sure, on paper, nobody is going to write home about him, but I don’t think that’s a problem at all. We’re dealing with Texans. He tamed a devil of a horse in three weeks being nice to him. He’s obviously been doing some taming of our storm-called hooligan.”
Storm-called hooligan? I considered Jessica, who hadn’t actually showed me any part of her talent, and I wondered what I’d missed.
“Mom!” Jessica complained.
“Which part has you whining now?” the queen challenged.
“I’m not a hooligan.”
“You most certainly are. For all I know, you’ve already been dragging the poor lad off to the nearest hay loft under your father’s nose. I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“I most certainly have not dragged him off to a hay loft!”
“Well, why the hell not?” the queen demanded, waving her hand. “I’ve seen pictures, and I saw him walking across the yard. You might want to let him get some rest and water him before you take him for a ride, though. He’s looking more tired than is healthy. He’s no use to you tired.”
“Mother!”
“For once in my life, I’m
agreeing with my daughter,” the king muttered.
“Well, it’s the honest truth. Why haven’t you dragged him off to the nearest hay loft yet? You’re not shy, especially not when it comes to disobeying your father.”
“He hasn’t passed my birth control bill yet. That’s why. Just make him sign the damned thing so I can be the guinea pig for it, then I’ll do just that!”
I had a sudden and new appreciation for hay lofts and Jessica’s special brand of rebellion and scheming. I also lacked any regret over having pushed myself right to the edge for a chance to be with her. “Is this the kind of scene you wanted help making, Jessica?”
“Basically. You don’t mind?”
“Are you feeling better now?”
“Much, thank you.”
“That’s good. Is there a reason you haven’t been able to go to a doctor?” While I didn’t know much about women or the various methods of birth control, I knew enough to know it started with a visit to a doctor.
“Dad’s goons have been sticking to me worse than ticks, and the royal physicians are Dad’s goons.”
I frowned. “At the risk of sounding even more ignorant than I already am, isn’t your father’s goal to have you produce an heir to continue the family line?”
“Of his choosing.”
“You could just compromise and have it be of your choosing if he’s not going to sign your bill so you can get what you want.” I shrugged. “Seems obvious to me.”
“Well, Dad? What’ll it be?”
“This is far too important to discuss in public.”
“I’m discussing it in public because you wanted to marry me off to a teenage brat almost half my age. If you’re not ashamed of that, then maybe discussing it in public will wake you up. And if you’re unwilling to improve women’s health across the board, you’re just saying you don’t care what happens to people like me and Mom. No, it’s just you saying you don’t actually care what happens to me as long as I reproduce to your standards. We’ve already decided we’re trying for a girl first just to spite you.”
The king blinked, and the queen covered her hand with her mouth, but I caught her smiling. She cleared her throat. “Bless your heart, darling. Let me explain for you in words you might understand a little easier. Give me an even-tempered man who already knows how to treat a woman over a foul-tempered little brat of a child any day of the week. Ain’t no woman got time for that, and I don’t really know why you think Jessica does, either. And half those colts they send over want Texas, and you should know this by now. She’s only been telling you since you concocted this harebrained scheme of yours to marry her off to some half-witted prince. In case that wasn’t clear, I’m siding with the young man who looks like he’s resigned to us hanging him from the tallest tree right now. We’re not, by the way, Mr. Laycal, so don’t you worry none.”
“Hey, Jessica?”
“Yes, Pat?”
“I thought they’d be more regal, prim, and proper. I also thought I’d be executed by now.”
“I think Mom’s right. You really do look stressed and tired.” Jessica hopped to her feet, turned, and grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet. I went along with it, amused she looked ready to haul me up through brute force if needed. “Come along. I’ll show you to your room and get you settled. I’ll let the kitchen staff know you’ll probably sneak in during the middle of the night to grab a bite to eat, too.”
I meant to follow quietly, but the incessant pressure and tightness in my chest finally burst. The blood rushed out of my head in a roar that drowned out all other sound. My vision darkened at the edges, and before I could draw another breath, my vision grayed to black.
Chapter Twenty
Hazy memories of a big, black horse drooling all over me and tugging on my ear dragged me from sleep. I understood science a little better than I did most days; an object at rest stayed at rest, and given my way, I’d just stay warm and cozy for the rest of my life.
I hadn’t realized how much I missed waking up without multiple alarms squealing at me.
I could’ve lived without the crashes of thunder outside. I liked storms well enough, but the one outside fussed, and its fussing kept me from going back to sleep. I figured I needed at least another day or two of sleep before I’d be ready to get up.
Someone poked my shoulder, and to escape, I rolled over.
“It’s time to get up, Pat,” Jessica announced. “Please?”
I groped for the nearest pillow, found it, and shoved it over my head. “It’s too stormy to get out of bed,” I mumbled.
“Your response to storms is to sleep through them?”
It occurred to me I was in bed, Jessica was nearby talking to me, and I had no idea what was going on or why. The last thing I remembered, I’d been awaiting my execution at the hands of her parents. Her mother, at least, hadn’t seemed all that interested in hanging me from the tallest tree in Texas. “I’m confused.”
“The doctor said that’d be normal. You fainted.”
“I what?”
“You fainted. I was going to bring you here, but you stood up and dropped like a rock. The doctor said you’re suffering from stress-induced fatigue on top of some other potential issues. Baby panicked, broke out of his stall, and wouldn’t leave you alone. While I wanted to make a scene, I wasn’t expecting a three hour battle with your horse before we could get a doctor to you. He was glorious. Fortunately for me, he didn’t view me as a threat to you, but he wouldn’t let anyone else near us.”
“Baby did what?”
“He busted out of his stall and played guard dog. In good news for you, your horse empathy talent isn’t minor; Baby and Morning Glory both reacted poorly when you fainted, but Morning Glory wasn’t big or strong enough to break out of her stall. Not for a lack of effort. It took two horse empaths to calm her down. You might have other talents, too. You’ll need to undergo an evaluation. How are you feeling?”
I thought about it and picked the most accurate answer I could for the situation. “Still confused. And my ear hurts.”
“That’s because Baby kept tugging on your ear trying to wake you up. You’re going to be fine, although I thought I was going to have a heart attack for a few minutes there when you wouldn’t wake up. Since Baby wasn’t cooperating, the doctors had to make guesses, but you don’t seem to have asthma, and you didn’t have a heart attack. Branst clued us in on what was probably going on. Well, it was a lot easier to figure out when Baby showed up and had a tantrum. You’re bonded to him, and you were suffering extended anxiety because you were worried he’d be sold to the market. After I told you he was yours, you relaxed, and that’s when the trouble started.” Jessica grabbed the pillow and took it away. “You need to get up, take a shower, and get dressed.”
Somewhere along the way, I’d gotten changed into pajamas, and they were even mine. “That sounds like a lot of work, Jessica.”
“It is, but you need to get moving because a doctor would like to see you while you’re actually coherent, which you haven’t been for two days.”
“What?”
“You’ve been a living zombie for two days. The few times we were able to get you up, it was like someone had flipped the off switch on your brain. You were running on auto-pilot. The doctors are pretty sure most of it is due to a talent flare, but they’re concerned you’re suffering from some form of fatigue or anxiety. You have been under a lot of stress, and it was starting to hurt your health.”
Damn it. “My fault.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t have enough hours in the day. I cut into my sleeping hours to get everything done. I probably wasn’t eating enough, either.”
Jessica laughed, and she sat on the side of the bed. “According to the blood test results, you’re a hot mess. My job is to get you out of bed, showered, and fed. And no, you are not cooking. While you probably don’t remember this, I was able to get you to eat soup, but you complained because it wasn’t as good as yo
urs.”
I groaned, looked for another pillow, and when I failed to find one, I burrowed under the blanket. “They’re going to permanently ban me from the kitchen.”
“Hey, just think about it this way. You won over almost everyone when they found out you’d collapsed because you’d been so worried about your horse. Texans love men who put their horses over themselves.” Jessica giggled and grabbed the blanket, tugging on it. “Let go. You can’t hide in bed all day. You need to eat and then go comfort your horses. Branst is tired of booting hooves so they can come into the house to visit you. In good news, Baby’s settling really well and is even letting others handle him somewhat. I’ve had the most luck, but Branst has been able to work with him some, too, as Baby’s figured out if Branst is around, he gets to visit you. After you’ve eaten, you’re to spend a few hours in the stable with your horses. They’ll set them loose in the indoor arena so they can get some exercise. If you’re looking stable on your feet and get the okay, we’ll saddle Baby and see how a ride goes.”
I stretched and yawned. “That sounds ambitious.”
“You want to take another nap, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“Shower, Pat! The doctor was clear. It’s noon, you need lunch, and I’m supposed to coax you to the arena by two at the latest so you can spend some time with your horses. The auction was extended into today and some of the events cancelled because of the fuss yesterday. Nobody wanted to go bid on horses when there was drama to be had. Seriously, they should just rename this damned collection of kingdoms to the Drama States! Nosy busybodies. To be fair, a lot of them are your co-workers, and they were worried about you.” She laughed. “And wondering how the hell you’d gotten my attention. Their expressions were priceless, Pat. They had no idea you knew me at all. The moment they realized their next king had been working as their chef and janitor was hilarious. I thought poor Elana was going to have a heart attack. I told her not to worry about it. It’s not like you’re the king yet.”
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