“All I’d have to do to make you look like an RPS agent is give you black slacks rather than a skirt.”
“But I like skirts. I may have a terrible face, but my legs are lovely.”
“No comment.”
“I bet the lusty prince saw my legs first and found my face worth the risk.”
“I don’t think he was looking at your legs.”
I stared down at my chest, and after a few moments of reflection, admitted Terry’s choice of attire did nice things to my breasts. “My chest, then.”
“I am confident in my general belief he was looking at your face.”
“Are you sure the lusty prince is actually a prince?”
“I’m certain.”
“You may want to tip off his RPS agents he needs to see a therapist.”
“Next, you’ll be suggesting you should participate in therapy together.”
Sometimes, Terry had the best ideas. “You have my attention. Which kingdom would I have to go to?”
“I refuse to answer that question. Remember, Rachel. You want to stay unkidnapped. That means you can’t kidnap members of royalty for any reason, including therapy and questioning sessions.”
“It would be a temporary relocation for mutually beneficial reasons.”
“No.”
“Why did I have to get the feisty RPS agent?” I complained.
“I think you’ll find I’m a rather average RPS agent.”
“Bite your tongue!”
“It’s true. New York has a different breed of RPS agent, and it’s clear the agency has failings that need to be addressed in the long term.”
“Their job is to make sure we don’t spontaneously combust and wipe out an entire city block when we do.”
“No, their job is to protect your wellbeing, and that includes your emotional health in addition to your physical health.”
“Since when?” I snorted, thinking back on the RPS agents I’d had in the past; not a damned one had actually cared for me as a person. Their job had always been simple although difficult. They kept me from getting into most forms of trouble.
“Since the foundation of the RPS.”
“Not in New York.”
“And New York has a reputation of producing less-than-ideal royals. It’s also evident from your interactions with me, and how often I’ve confused you with my behavior, that the RPS in New York is lacking in certain areas.”
“We’re powerful, but we’re shitty people.” I had no idea how to address his opinion about New York’s RPS, so I kept my mouth shut.
I did need to remember empaths could detect my mood and reactions, which meant hiding anything from Terry would take work—if I could manage to hide anything from him at all.
“Historically, that has been the case, yes. I do believe Prince Ian means to change New York using you.”
“I will give him the worst work for the rest of his miserable life, and I will join forces with his future wife to make sure he’s paying for this travesty for a long time.”
“That is a potent threat, as I believe you would do just that.”
“Well, I am a New Yorker.” I plucked at the latest blouse he’d made me try on, which was blue and green and rather riotous compared to my usual attire. “Do I really have to wear stuff like this?”
When would he let me change out of it? Was he going to let me change out of it? What the hell was I supposed to do?
“You can wear your blazer with a non-white shirt once a week. Go change. You don’t have to follow me around like a lost, confused puppy who isn’t allowed to chew on the clothes you’re buying.”
Damn. His empathy gave him an unfair edge.
“Can I wear something pale just not white with my blazer jackets and skirts?”
“How about a pastel with a complementary tie?”
I widened my eyes. “I can wear a tie?”
“Of course, if you’d like.”
“I would like. I want to wear ties. I love ties. Show me some ties.” Ties had so many uses, including being a tool useful for capturing someone. I wouldn’t remind Terry I could use a tie to aid my effort to kidnap a Californian prince for questioning—or pursue the lusty prince should I manage to figure out who he was.
My new phone could help me figure out his identity. All I needed to do was look up a list of eligible royal bachelors; it would take me less than five minutes to identify him.
For now, I’d let him enjoy his anonymity.
“I will compromise with you. You’ll let me buy you some extra clothes, and I’ll even toss in some casual, fun, and somewhat rebellious outfits, but you can’t wear just black and white.”
I saw through his ploy; he meant for me to spend even more of my hoarded wealth on clothes that would barely fit in my closet-sized apartment. “I’m going to need a new apartment. I don’t think this will all fit in my closet.”
“Did you really think you’d manage to last three months in the closet you’re in now?”
“I was certainly going to try.”
“Go get changed, and I’ll pick out some clothes that’ll fit, now that I have a good idea of your size in this store. I’ll try to prevent making you try on more things.”
I fled for the changing room, glad to have a limited respite from his shopping.
When I returned, the pile of clothing destined to attack my bank card had doubled in size.
“I don’t think that’s going to fit in my closet, Terry. I really don’t think this is going to fit in my closet. I’m going to be sharing my bed with my laundry.”
“You can afford a better place, Rachel.”
“I prefer to only spend the money I’m making, damn it. I don’t like having to use the card.” I eyed the pile of future dirty laundry I’d have to clean. “That’s worth more than a month’s rent, too. That’s too expensive. Way too expensive.”
“While I don’t think Prince Ian is aware of your thoughts on this matter, if he were, it would be on his list of why you’d be the better choice to be the heir. You can afford it. You can even afford to rent somewhere nicer for three months. You’re also assuming you’ll have to deal with the situation for more than three months. It’s going to be a challenge enough keeping attention off of you for a single month.”
“I’ll just have to figure out how to make all of this crap fit into my closet.”
“You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”
“I was born stubborn, Terry. I was also born rebellious, apparently.”
“Society needs people who are willing to break the mold for the good of everyone, no matter what the cost.”
I thought I’d paid enough for change I wasn’t even responsible for. My sister had changed the world for the better despite the evils of her acts.
A light could only shine in the darkness, and Sylvia had served as the black backdrop for Her Royal Majesty of Montana.
I supposed Sylvia also served as my darkness, too, but unless I fell in step with my brother’s plans, I’d never shine.
It disturbed me that I recognized how my sister’s crimes and choices had spiraled out of control and would irrevocably dictate my future. I could keep walking away, or I could listen to my brother’s wisdom and try to salvage the ruins of my kingdom’s integrity.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m plotting a murder,” I announced, fighting the urge to cringe at the reminder that Terry pierced through my exterior due to his empathy talent.
I wondered what my realization felt like to him; it grew as a pressure in my chest and threatened to cut off my breath.
“Should I be concerned?”
“Only if you think my brother should live.”
“Rachel, you can’t kill your brother.”
“The manipulative bastard deserves death. I will get my revenge somehow.”
“Why don’t you marry him off to the woman he loves?”
“How is that revenge? That’s giving him exactly what he wants.
”
“And deserves. While you may not agree with him at this point in time, he’s moving for good reason.”
“Good intentions, shit roads.”
“He hasn’t figured out he can still marry even if he becomes the king. He’s stuck in the New York state of mind. He needs someone to jar him to his senses. That someone should be you.”
“You’re really siding with my brother on this, aren’t you?”
“The Royal States needs good people to keep their kingdoms strong, and while New York has strength, it has the wrong sort of strength. I’ve been convinced you could change that—if you play the game just right.”
“Okay. I’m listening, Mr. RPS Agent. How do I play this game just right?”
“I think your current assignment is a brilliant way for you to get ideas on that front. After all, everything you learn in the next three months will be invaluable to you should you return to New York and take over as the queen.”
“Do you know what me being a single queen ruling will do, Terry?”
“I’m afraid to ask, but I will. What will you being a single queen ruling do?”
“Put me up as the grand prize for every single stud of a prince out there. I’ll be hunted in packs. Right now, I’m safely single. Nobody is interested in this package.”
“Except the lusty prince from the wedding.”
“But is he king material?”
“He’s an heir to a throne, Rachel. He’s been training to rule a kingdom since birth. And he currently doesn’t want the throne he’s inheriting. If you really wanted him, you could probably get away with staking a claim and taking him home with you, which is exactly why I have been discouraging that idea. You’d leave an entire kingdom scrambling to train someone else to take over. You might get away with it, and should you, you’ll turn the current ruling structure completely on its ear. And judging from what I sensed, you’d make him like it.”
“That doesn’t sound healthy, and I’m concerned he needs therapy even more than I do. Does it count as a kidnapping if it’s a rescue mission? He might need to be rescued if he doesn’t want to be a king.”
“I think he would prefer to be a king with a queen of his choice, and he’s likely figured out he’ll have to leave his kingdom if he wants that. Like New York, his kingdom has a set requirement for pedigree an heir must adhere to.”
“That’s been spreading like a disease in the Royal States, hasn’t it?” I thought about it. “Does it make me weird that I haven’t been considering a relationship with someone?”
“I believe that is a symptom of parental abuse and manipulation, where you have been trained to believe that you’re not allowed to have romantic interests in anyone unauthorized. Essentially, that’s the same issue that Prince Ian is having, except his case is possibly worse than yours.”
I grimaced, realizing my idiot brother wasn’t just trying to make me miserable. He was trying to save himself from a loveless marriage with no hope of a good future.
His qualifications to rule, equal or better to mine, had nothing to do with his gambit or his choice to drag me into the situation. “Can we not call it parental abuse?”
“We’re trained in the RPS—at least outside of New York—to recognize the symptoms of abuse, Rachel. You have every classic symptom of it. Your method of handling it is a great deal less self-destructive than in most, but it’s present all the same. It’s evident in your general reaction to someone willing to show you any form of positive attention.”
“You mean the lusty prince.”
“The instant the lusty prince learns you aced the Californian refugee exam, I’m going to need a baseball bat to keep him at bay. I told you he’s an intellectual, did I not?”
“He’s a weird one with a fetish for ugly women.”
“That statement is symptomatic of abuse, by the way. You have been trained to believe if you do not meet certain standards of beauty, per your parents’ requirements, you’re ugly. This is not the case. You’re plenty attractive. If anything, you’re attractive because you’re representative of a lot of women. You’re not a porcelain doll beauty. You shouldn’t be expected to be one, either.”
“Maybe you should change jobs and be my therapist.”
“I like my job.”
“But I keep making you move all around the Royal States. You were living out of the back of a damned SUV because of me.”
“I do like the travel, although I won’t complain much when you are able to settle somewhere permanently. There are perks to being on a monarch’s detail.”
“By on you mean leading, right?”
“I’m not ranked that high in the RPS.”
“You’ve been putting up with me for years. I don’t think it matters if you’re ranked that high in the RPS.”
“I’m also a member of Montana’s RPS.”
“Okay. Obviously, the fault for the way this conversation has turned out is on me. First, I grab a Californian prince for research purposes. Once I’m done with him, I’ll return him and nab the lusty heir and take him home with me. At the same time, I will notify Montana’s RPS I’m stealing you, and that I will resent any attempts to recover you.”
“I’m more than a little concerned over how serious you are about kidnapping princes. Two of them, at this point in time.”
“How many princes does California have? Maybe I should just grab them all. It’d probably spice up their life some and make their RPS detail train harder in the future when they get their asses handed to them by a runaway princess.”
Terry’s eyes widened, and he stared at me. “Please tell me you don’t think you can take out four RPS details at the same time.”
“Oh, Terry. I don’t think I can. I know I can. How else do you think I got out of New York? I promise you I didn’t just walk out of the place. Do you really think my asshole parents would let me do anything that might make me happy?”
“No, I don’t,” he replied, his expression troubled. “How many agents did you kill?”
I shook my head. “None, of course. Don’t you know that’s part of what makes us New Yorkers scary? We don’t have to incinerate you to disable you for a while. We can just suck all the air out of your lungs and knock you out that way.”
“That’s an airweaver trick, Rachel.”
I shrugged, wondering just how much of my magic was airweaving versus manipulating a nearby fire with flameweaving. “Whatever gets the job done. That’ll teach them to underestimate me. Also, should I return to New York, I’ll need a new detail anyway. I pissed off the old one.”
“I’m concerned, especially if you’re an unidentified airweaver with refined control despite your ignorance on the nature of your magic.”
“That’s because you’ve met me. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it eventually—maybe. Or you’ll just be yet another RPS agent I’ve driven out of the service because I’m insufferable.”
“Let’s hit the register, and I’ll take you home. I need to research airweavers and figure out what to do about the probability you’re a high-level hybrid.”
“It’s really not that big of a concern.”
“Yes, it is. First, if you’re an airweaver, there are a lot of self-defense tricks you can use to preserve your safety and prevent relocation attempts—tricks that are on par with lightningweavers.”
That caught my attention. “Really?”
“Really. There’s also the issue of your cold flame. Technically, that’s an impossibility.”
“So is creating fire from nothing.”
“Yes, but there’s no record of anyone actually being able to produce flame in that way. Your parents have excessively strong talents, but neither of them have such refined control or the ability to fully remove heat from a flame. Yet you can.”
“My mother can turn bone to ash, too.”
“Brute force is not the only type of strength.”
“It’s good at keeping people in line, though.”
Terry raised
a brow. “Don’t you think it’d be nice if New York was ruled by a monarch the people respected rather than feared?”
The realization sank in that the RPS had, with one question, won the war and ensured I’d eventually return to my home kingdom.
I sighed. “I hate unfinished tasks, Terry, and I swore I wouldn’t let California’s immigration system beat me. I certainly don’t want to let a ten million dollar bounty beat me, either.”
“Well, no one in their right mind will ever doubt you’re a New Yorker,” the RPS agent muttered.
“You need a raise. You should give me your boss’s phone number so I can tell him that. By the time this is over, you’ll have earned every penny and then some.”
“You’re viewing this as a challenge, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
Terry muttered curses under his breath. “I’m going to have to apologize to California once this is over.”
“Why? It’s not like I’m taking them over. I’m just going to kidnap a prince or two for questioning.”
The RPS agent groaned. “Just please buy your clothes so I can see what I can do about the security in your apartment.”
“Just call it my closet, Terry. Honesty is the best policy, after all.”
My closet really wasn’t big enough for two people for any period of time, and I had to dump all my new clothes on my bed, which did a good job of convincing me I really needed to move.
Damn it.
To make myself feel better and dodge Terry’s disapproval, I went to my rats’ cage, unlocked the lid, and retrieved both animals, placing them on my shoulders and snuggling with them. Snookums grabbed my cheek with her front paws and rubbed her nose against my face. “Who are the best girls?” I cooed. “That’s right, Snookums and Flamingo are the best girls.”
Flamingo, in her usual flippant manner, focused on grooming her fur.
Terry took a long look around my closet, and I gave it five minutes before I offended every last one of his delicate RPS sensibilities. “Which one is which?”
“Snookums is the lover, Flamingo is the fashionista. Flamingo is a little paler than her sister,” I replied. “Would you like the hold them? They’re friendly.”
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