Null & Void_a Royal States Novel

by RJ Blain

  “That’s really clever,” he admitted, his expression turning thoughtful.

  “I have to be clever. My job is to convince a bunch of politicians who hate me to do what I want anyway.”

  “Please do us all a favor and marry Montana’s king.”

  I gaped. “Pardon?”

  “Please marry Montana’s king.”

  Shaking my head, I headed for the doors, hoping I could escape the conversation. My ploy didn’t work, as Adam matched me step for step. “Why would I do that? No, more importantly, why would he?”

  “You won’t get eaten alive by the other royals, for starters. Honestly, I’ve met most of them, and I don’t think any of the other monarchs could handle you or Mireya. He stands a chance, barely. That, plus he’s nice.”

  “If he’s so nice, why is he single?”

  Adam chuckled. “Because he has a hopeless crush on you? I told you, Miss Little. You have a fan.”

  Laughing and rolling my eyes at the absurdity anyone would believe a king would have a crush on me, I went in search of my daughter so I could sign away my savings and kiss a quiet, peaceful life goodbye.

  A three-inch-tall stack of papers waited for me. From my research on Geschwann International Academy, I understood most of it would be the boarding contracts for five different schools. The trick would be feigning my wrath over the documentation to teach my daughter a lesson on properly warning her mother in the future. “Mireya Mason Little, what is the meaning of this?”

  Her friends scattered and hid behind a middle-aged couple waiting across the room. While I dodged the news as often as not, I recognized His and Her Royal Majesties, the king and queen of Texas.

  My daughter gulped. “That’s the required paperwork, Mom.”

  “Is there a reason it’s three inches thick?” To continue my demonstration of the unfairness of surprising me with so much paperwork, I picked the stack up, eyed it, and dropped it on the table.

  It made a satisfying thunk.

  “I’m sure there is, but I’m only ten. Those are adult matters.”

  “Uh huh. I heard about the congressional session. Don’t even start with me. Why don’t you give me the real reason this has so many pages.”

  Mireya hung her head and mumbled, “It’s the boarding school agreement if I pass. The school’s abroad.”

  Satisfied I’d gotten most of the truth out of my miniature demonic entity hell-bent on shaving years off my life, I sat down, pulled the stack to me, and began the daunting task of reading every last word of the fine print.

  “Mom?”

  “I have three inches of paperwork to read, spawnling. Go terrorize your co-conspirators’ parents for a while. If they don’t have gray hairs by the time you’re done, you haven’t terrorized them enough. I hear the twins have important lessons to teach you on evading RPS agents. Go educate yourself in these methods.”

  Mireya joined her friends in hiding while I focused my attention on the contract dictating my child’s future.

  It even had a table of contents. Fifty pages were dedicated to the boarding agreements for five schools, one of which was in Colorado, and just as I’d read online, the others were overseas.

  Another eighty pages were applications for study visas and travel visas, an itinerary for international travel, and the holiday schedules for students to return home for visits. A hundred pages were dedicated to summaries of the school programs students would be able to access and a general schedule of classes and testing guidelines.

  Forty-three pages were dedicated to payments, scholarships, and financial aid.

  The scariest sheets detailed the required magical aptitude testing all students endured along with weekly calls to discuss with the school potential methods to identify her talents. Student safety trumped all, and the talent tests were done only to ensure the students wouldn’t be a threat to themselves or anyone else. Talent came second to intelligence, and the strong abilities were a double-edged sword.

  Until Mireya developed her father’s magic, she’d get an extra few hours of sleep a day, which I hoped she’d learn to appreciate.

  Littered throughout the documentation were blank lines meant for information on Mireya’s father, and each one of them broke another piece of my heart. Dylan Mason didn’t exist, not really, but his daughter did, and as always, I wasn’t sure what to do.

  Normally, I left the line blank, a mystery no one had solved. Our little girl wasn’t so little anymore. She’d been ready for the truth, which I’d given to her.

  All that was left for me to do was acknowledge everything I’d kept to myself for so long. Writing his fake name wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make him appear, it wouldn’t change the past, and it wouldn’t change the future.

  All I’d do was give my daughter’s existence on paper a little more substance.

  Mireya had grown up on me ahead of her time, no matter how hard I fought against it. I just wished it hadn’t happened so soon. Clenching my teeth, I dutifully wrote ‘DBA Dylan Mason’ on every line demanding information on her father, and when the documentation asked for his address, I was forced to write his whereabouts were unknown.

  Every letter hurt, and the deeper I got into the stack, the more I wanted to run home, hide under my blanket, and cry. Not only did the boarding school agreements detail the rules students had to follow, but they described daily life as a student, listed tentative field trips around the world, and detailed the costs of her future education.

  The numbers staggered me, and no matter what Dylan whispered to me in my dreams, without financial aid, I had no hope of giving her the life she wanted. If I spent every last penny I made, I’d be fifty-six thousand short a year, and while I’d squirreled away the funds from the pharmaceutical firm’s placebo error, I’d drain it dry by the end of the first year, just as I’d feared. If I razed my retirement fund, I’d have enough for an additional six months.

  A lot could happen in a year.

  I signed, and I pretended I didn’t want to cry. Between the hopelessness of my finances and the reality I’d be letting her go a lot sooner than I wanted, the papers represented a lot more than a chance to give her the brightest future possible.

  Five hours after I’d begun, I finished filling out the last page, signed, and tossed the pen onto the table.

  “I’m beginning to understand why Mireya is such a remarkable young lady,” Jessica said from the other end of the table.

  I yelped and jumped in my seat, jerking my head up. While I’d seen pictures of the Texan queen, it never occurred to me she could seem so normal. She wore clothes a lot like mine, favoring a t-shirt compared to my blouse, but had I met her on the streets, I never would have suspected she was royalty.

  I took a deep breath to steady myself. “It’s because of her father mostly,” I admitted.

  Queen Jessica snorted and shook her head. “While I have no doubt her father must be a remarkable man, you’re the one who taught her the value of hard work. She’s testing off the charts, Mackenzie. The girl’s education is on par with college graduates. When my Adam struggles to keep up with her, I notice. Adam’s the smartest of my brood, and he comes home asking me questions because your daughter stumped him yet again. Yet, she’s able to play with my other children without any evidence of haughtiness. She’s so humble and grateful for everything she’s guilted the manners back into my spoiled brats.”

  I had a difficult time believing Adam or Carl could be described as spoiled. The little I’d heard of the twins implied they could be—or were simply troublemakers out to give their parents gray hairs. “I’ve been told about the congress affair.”

  “God, yes. It was beautiful. Mark my words, Mackenzie. That girl will be a queen one day. Her stunt in congress ensured it. May God take pity on the king who wins her, because she certainly won’t. She’s charmed every last one of my children.”

  My eyebrows went up at the thought of my daughter becoming a queen, although I was pleased she’d found h
erself friends. Their status as royals both bothered and assured me.

  Their mother seemed nice, which made it easy to believe they’d treat my daughter well. “While I’m not sure they’ll all fit, they’re welcome to come over for dinner.”

  “I’ve every intention of making sure that happens. Did you know that until Mireya, not a single classmate has invited my children to come over and play or have dinner? Their parents believe it’s inappropriate.”

  I canted my head, stunned at the thought other parents could be so selfish. “That’s awful. Why not? Your children seem so nice.”

  “They’re devils, no doubt about it, especially Adam. He’s smart enough to see right through our bullshit, but fortunately, he’s good-natured enough he won’t take advantage. He’ll make a good king someday. He’s a lot like his father. As for the other parents, they don’t believe it’s proper. Elite children aren’t taught to, well, just play, not usually. Mireya’s unusual. You’ve done an exemplary job raising her, you know. She erases the boundaries between castes because she just doesn’t give a shit.”

  I giggled at the queen’s cursing. “It’s her father’s fault.”

  I spoke the truth; Dylan had taught me to ignore the lines dividing us, although I’d brought my stubborn pride to the table as my contribution, too.

  “May I ask how?”

  “When I kneed a princess in the groin, he very publicly declared I had the right of it. He was the one to blur the lines. I just followed his example.”

  “Well, judging from that, you did knee the bitch in the groin first. I’ve heard about that incident, and she deserved it. If you happen to have an accident where your knee hits her groin again, I volunteer to handle all your legal fees. I’d pay good money to watch that. Princess Sylvia is a treacherous blight, and I thank God daily that her parents are smart enough to have eliminated her from the line of succession. Hell, the only reason she’s permitted to participate is because His and Her Royal Majesty begged us. They want her out of their hair as much as I want to see you put her in her place again. I even warned them you might get into a spat with her. I have a signed pardon locked in my desk should you have to get violent with her again. They expect it, We expect it, and We’ve already taken steps to make certain you face no long-term penalties for defending yourself.”

  I grimaced at the Royal We, which implied the king and queen had discussed the matter with a closed Texas congress. “It seems I’ve missed a lot.”

  “You have. Two certain cowards have been cringing, waiting for you to up your temper tantrum from a thrown stapler to legitimate murder attempts. I considered giving them a pair of RPS agents, but frankly, they deserve your wrath for not coming clean on their little act. Honestly, you should be throwing things at me, too. I was in on it. Hell, I volunteered to be behind the podium threatening to claim custody, but as half the congress wants your Mireya to charm her way into a betrothal with my Adam—”

  “What?” I squealed.

  “Hmm. Too soon? Yes, the instant congress discovered your daughter was friends with my son, they went into a frenzy. They’re worse than sharks. If they had their way, our children would be married within a week.”

  “She’s ten.”

  “She’s smarter than most of congress, and they know it. Her brilliant plan to pass the null rights bills won over most of them, and once the other half of congress stops sulking over having been taken in one fell swoop, they’ll be after her for Adam, too.”

  I covered my face with my hands. “This can’t be happening.”

  “It’s not that bad. They’re both still young. We could set up an official betrothal documents and have five years to think it through; fifteen is the earliest you can legally marry her off. I’m not above begging.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “I may have prepared some documentation for you to read over that would cover the terms of the betrothal, favorable to both of families. Of course, I think you’ll emerge with the lion’s share, but it’s very difficult to turn away from an advantageous betrothal. I’ve had monarchies from around the world aiming for Adam, and if I’m going to sell my soul to the devil and marry him off, I need to put Texas first. Mireya’s uniquely qualified to take my place. She understands the inner workings of the Texan government. She’s already a household name because of you, she has a stellar reputation of being a child of great intellect, and she’s deviously good at manipulating politicians. She played them almost as good as you do.”

  “Me?” I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair. “Hardly.”

  “I watch every congressional session, Mackenzie. You’re a master at browbeating stubborn Texans. Do the entirety of Texas a favor and at least review the betrothal papers. At the very least, you’ll prove that nulls are on equal standings, as it doesn’t get much better than the child of a null being accepted as a viable option for the role of queen. Texas may not be the largest kingdom in the world, but we have sway. You wouldn’t just be winning a battle for null rights, you’d be ending the war. By my husband and I proposing the betrothal agreement, we’re signaling the nulls are equals to elites, and that talent isn’t everything. The current legislation in process of being legalized is only the first death blow to null prejudices. No matter if she develops talent later in life, right now, you’re both nulls. By signing now and not waiting until adolescence, we are making it clear this betrothal is to gain her as a queen, with or without magic.”

  I needed to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep. If I did that, I wouldn’t collapse to the shiny floor in a state of complete shock. “You really brought betrothal documents.”

  Jessica picked up her phone, tapped the screen, and ordered, “Bring my briefcase, please.”

  Within a minute, an RPS agent knocked on the door, let himself in, and handed the queen a leather briefcase before excusing himself.

  “You know, your bodyguards don’t do you any good if they’re not in here protecting you.”

  “I’m a stormweaver with a side of waveweaving, Mackenzie. I could drown you with your own blood if you got uppity. I’m the safest person in this building. The last time someone tried something, I was in a bad mood, so I burst every vessel in the bastard’s legs. He lived, but he’ll never walk again. Dick move on my part, but he would’ve killed me given half a chance. I should’ve just killed him. It would’ve been kinder.”

  I shivered, and thinking about Texas’s unfortunate tendency to fall into the line of hurricanes, I put two and two together. “You’re the one who prevents the yearly flooding from becoming catastrophic.”

  “You figured that out quick.”

  “And Adam?”

  “He’s developing a double dose from both parents, I’m afraid. He’s already showing signs of having my gifts, and I’m almost certain he’s got more than his fair share of his father in him. Mireya’s going to be on her toes dealing with him.”

  “Dare I ask what his father’s ability is?”

  “He’s a leech.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Blood?”

  Jessica shook her head. “Empathic. Adam’s always been a good judge of character like his father, but it’s becoming obvious he’s feeding on emotional energy, and he’s attuning with positive energy, as far as we can tell. Whenever he’s around Mireya, he’s more lively. When you were in the hospital, Mireya’s temper soured, and Adam became a bit of a beast.”

  I knew just enough about empathic leeches from general talent education to understand Adam could be fixating on my daughter. “Shit.”

  How had my daughter become entangled with a prince? Not just any prince, the future king of Texas? I struggled to find the silver lining in the growing storm clouds and failed miserably.

  If she fell in with a prince, the rest of her life would become a political nightmare.

  “I find the situation pleasing, personally. If he develops a bond with her as his father did with me, she’ll never have a more loyal partner. Even if they don’t marry, he’ll be her al
ly for life. If he is bonding with her, it’s a two-way street, and it might not be possible to separate them. So, if we do proceed with a betrothal, Adam will relax because he won’t perceive his friendship with Mireya as taboo.”

  “And Adam’s stressed about it?”

  “Adam has been caught five times by RPS agents this week sneaking to your daughter’s room to make certain everything was okay. She’s putting on a brave face, but she has a serious case of separation anxiety.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Separation anxiety?”

  “Despite her nonchalant appearances, she is most definitely a mommy’s girl, and she doesn’t like being apart from you. She’s had a rough few days, but she’s so determined to make you proud of her that she’s putting on a brave face and trying her best. It happened with every last one of the brats in my herd, and it’ll ease up after a few weeks abroad. The schools are used to it and will keep her so busy she’ll forget she’s homesick.”

  “And Adam’s picked up on it?’

  “I don’t think he’s figured out he’s leeched onto her yet. He’s complaining he just had a bad feeling. He’s working himself into a frenzy without knowing why. His father figured it out first, but he’s aware of what it’s like. It was actually Pat’s idea to suggest a betrothal. Pat had a bit of a rollercoaster ride with me, so I think he wants to spare Adam.”

  “This is a disaster,” I whimpered.

  “A very beneficial disaster for Texas. But yes, that’s the problem with empathic leeches. If they don’t learn they’re a leech soon enough, they can attach themselves to someone, and once attached, good luck separating them from their target. Mireya’s a tough girl. She can handle anything my Adam flings her way. Of course, should you agree to the betrothal, we won’t tell the victims of our scheming quite yet. We’ll want to watch how their relationship progresses. There’s a chance he’ll detach, but he is his father’s son, so I wouldn’t hold your breath. History tends to repeat itself.”

  “I think I need to see these documents.”