Page 25 of Iron Unicorn

Depression often led to apathy, and apathy often led to manipulation.

I marveled over how much good would come out of the scheme.

“Visiting dignitaries can be an interesting rodeo. It depends on which kingdom they’re from. I can give you some tips on how to handle them.” Technically, my queen had counted, although I’d done the vast majority of my work from the shadows. “With Queen Rachel, I had unusual duties, and I’ve had to reintegrate with standard RPS duties. In a way, your situation will be like mine. I’m happy to coach you as time allows. Olivia, see if we can get Eddie for one of the later scenarios, would you? I’m assuming the RPS looped you in for scenario planning while I’ve been sleeping on the job.”

“They have been, and I can. It’s a good idea. They want to do a lot of scenario runs to make sure you get back in shape for your trip back to New York. Right now, a squirrel could take you out.”

I recognized when the princess was out for my throat, but I couldn’t tell what I’d done to deserve it. A long time ago, I’d suffered through a rather unpleasant situation with one of the rodents.

The squirrel had loved me. I had not loved the squirrel. The squirrel had taken to invading my home, sneaking into my car, and otherwise doing everything in its furry power to become a pet.

Much to my disgust and dismay, the squirrel had become a pet. I had never divulged the squirrel incident to my queen, which only made her declaration that I was her Rat Guy even worse.

I had a history with rodent kind.

I’d even shed a few tears when the furry bastard had passed away from old age, taking a day off work to bury the little menace.

If I gave Olivia a single chance, she’d start telling me that the squirrel had been my second wife despite him having been a male squirrel.

“Squirrels are ruthless,” I replied in my most dignified tone.

Olivia smirked. “You just miss your husband.”

Damn it. “He was a squirrel, not my spouse!”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Pardon?”

I crossed my arms and played at being offended, refusing to look Olivia in the eyes.

“A long time ago, Terry was accosted by a squirrel. This little asshole absolutely harassed him. Everywhere Terry went, this squirrel wanted to go. Most notably, the squirrel insisted on hitchhiking with him to work, sneaking into his car at every opportunity. If Terry escaped, the squirrel would stand vigil in a tree next to his driveway and scream until he came home. Terry hated that squirrel. Terry ended up bringing the squirrel into his home, giving him a cage, and naming him. While I’m still of the opinion that You Furry Little Bastard was an odd name, he took exemplary care of his squirrel companion for years before he woke up one morning to find You Furry Little Bastard had passed away in his cage. He’d died in his sleep. Terry took the day off to grieve for his squirrel, and per Montana royal family protocol, I was volunteered to make sure Terry was all right. The funeral service was rather amusing, I will admit. Terry got in one last scolding of that squirrel. That was, for the record, the only argument Terry ever won against You Furry Little Bastard. Rachel puts rats in Terry’s pockets because Terry doesnotwant another You Furry Little Bastard in his life. She is convinced he just needs to handle her rats a little more to get used to them. I am thinking I’m going to tell her she needs to use a squirrel if she wants her ploy to work. She’s tryingsohard to convince him to get a pet.”

I huffed, and as that didn’t deter the princess, I puffed.

Eddie burst into laughter. “That’s hilarious, Terry. Why didn’t you just keep the squirrel outside?”

“That little shit kept screaming outside my window. Not even walnuts deterred him. He wanted to come inside.”

While You Furry Little Bastard had passed in his cage, the cage door had been open, and the squirrel had been allowed to come and go as he pleased. As far as I could tell, the squirrel had understood he was dying and had tried to gather nuts for me, setting them in his bed on my nightstand to make sure I had something to eat after he was gone.

He’d likely just stopped, as there’d been at least twenty walnuts on my nightstand before he’d passed, and he’d made a mess of his nut stash in his cage.

Nobody would learn the truth from me, but his bed and those walnuts were in a box in my closet. I’d long since gotten rid of the cage and any other evidence I’d kept a pet squirrel.

“Don’t let him trick you. He loved that squirrel. It just took him a few years to accept he was the plaything of a tree rat.”

“Please don’t tell my queen about the squirrel. She will never let that go.”

“She thinks you’re scared of her rats, Terry. She has no idea you could have taken over her rats’ care without batting an eye. You played her so well. You had no problems going into rat infested buildings to get her pets. You actually liked it. But you played at not liking it, trying to convince her of your willingness to do things off the beaten path just for her. She needed to see you cared enough to go into rat infested buildings just for her.”

“I wasn’t going to ruin a suit, which meant I had to go clothing shopping for myself. That part of my dismay was quite real, I assure you.” Being able to interact with the Californian RPS had come as a relief. Working solo had taken a toll, and the instant King Ethan had revealed his dedication to Queen Rachel’s cause, my life had become far simpler yet complicated and filled with difficulties.

“You will not die from wearing jeans, Terry,” the princess informed me in an exasperated tone. “And while you were wretchedly adorable as a child in your mini RPS suit, being casual sometimes is not a poor reflection on you!”

“I’m used to suits.”

The princess made a strangled screaming sound, flung her arms in the air, and tossed in a few grunts for good measure. “Embrace jeans!”

The confinement must have gotten to her at long last. “When does the exercise begin?”

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