Page 10 of Reign of Four

Riot stares blankly at me. Great.

I keep a smile on my face. “I was hoping to bring him some breakfast. He left pretty early this morning. Is he in the house? Maybe in his office?”

Still, Riot doesn’t respond, so I give up that endeavor. “Alright, well maybe you can point me in the direction of the kitchen so I can grab something for myself?”

A slight head tilt to his right.

I head in that direction, and he follows like a faithful guard dog. I try not to let his presence get to me. Looking over my shoulder at him, I toss him a wink. “Maybe we can get you something sweet for helping me.”

God, flirting with the enemy is weird. Dread sinks in the pit of my stomach as I think about flirting with Liam next. I can’t go full-in with it or he might suspect something’s up, but I won’t be able to reject all of his advances, or he might lash out. I resist the urge to chew my bottom lip as we head down a flight of stairs, then another hallway, until finally, a grand staircase leads to the main floor. I track each turn we take, trying to memorize the layout of the house.

As I sweep down the main stairs, brushing my palm along the mahogany railing in a careful glide, two of the guards on patrol stop to watch my descent. I smile sweetly at them, and they continue moving.

There are way too many armed guards in here for my liking. I understand Liam being cautious since my men are likely hunting him as we speak, but this feels overkill. How many guards are his, and how many are my grandmother’s?

Speaking of my grandmother, where the hell is she?

I take the opposite direction of the two patrolling guards and check each room, confirming the number of guards and windows I saw on my way upstairs last night. Too many of one and not enough of the other. When I come across a set of closed double doors, muffled voices catch my attention, a mix of English and Russian coming through. Another guard flanks the entrance.

This isn’t the kitchen, but it’s something.

Turning to Riot, I gesture towards the door. “Is this my husband’s office?” When he doesn’t respond, I turn on my smile. “Do you think you could have a coffee tray and some, oh, croissants or something delivered? Bagels, maybe? They must be hard at work in there.”

Per Princess rules, it’s not my place to interrupt a meeting when I’m not invited. But a queen can follow a different set of rules, especially one who brings treats.

To my delight, Riot unclasps a radio from his waist and mutters an accented coffee and bagels to the office into the receiver. Someone replies with confirmation, and I clasp my hands in front of me as we wait. “Thank you.”

He inclines his head. Maybe we’re getting somewhere.

I hear the treat cart before it arrives, wheeling down the hardwood, the silver clattering on top. The staff member notices me and pales, and it takes me a moment to understand why.

She was working at the Baranova estate. “Tessa,” I greet, swallowing my surprise. What the hell are you doing here? “How lovely to see you. I didn’t know you worked for my husband.”

She gives me a tense smile. “I work for the Madame, Princess. She requested that I relocate upon your recent nuptials.”

My fingers twitch, so I clutch them tighter together. “The Madame sent you here.” Of course Katya snaked her way into the estate. I wonder if she gave word the day she paid me an unexpected visit. Follow me or die, or something just as extreme.

Everything around here feels like it’s life or death.

I take a step closer to Tessa. I don’t dislike the girl; hell, I hardly even know her. But still. A precedent needs to be set, and she’s the first person I’ve come across to set one. To her credit, she holds her ground. She’s older than me, likely having worked for the Baranovas a long time. I can’t fault her for following Katya’s orders.

But it means she went against her pakhan. And I need to win her loyalty back for us.

“As you’ve heard of my wedding, I’m sure you’re aware that I am no longer simply a princess.” I keep my smile sweet, but by the way she flinches, I can tell she sees that she’s struck a nerve. “I thank you for following the previous Madame, but I believe that title now belongs to me. As the current Madame, I hope to see you following orders just as swiftly for me as you did for her.” I set my hands on the cart. “Thank you for bringing the tray I ordered. It’s perfect.”

As I tug on the cart, Tessa holds on just as tight, not letting me move. “I can take this inside for you?—”

“Tessa.”

She flinches at the warning in my voice.

“What were you asked to do?”

She blinks at me, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Bring coffee and bagels to the office.”

“That’s right.” I nod. “Nothing was said about taking the tray inside. I’d hate for you to misstep and tarnish that perfect record of yours so soon. We’re just getting started, after all, when we have years of service ahead of us.”

She finally lets go of the cart. “Yes, Madame.”

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