Page 6 of Iron Unicorn

While I waited, I reminded myself patience was a virtue and royalty existed to vex me. Then I reminded myself I liked my job and wanted to keep working with the vexing royalty.

It would have to do.

TWO

A sleeping principal made guard duty simple and pleasant.

In the firsttext the Texan queen sent me, she begged for an extra twenty minutes as an idiot from Florida direly needed something. I expected the idiot from Florida was their king and he wanted to make sure there were no problems with Maine. In the months following the reveal of Her Royal Highness’s choice of consort, Florida had developed some hefty anxiety.

The prior royal family lived happily in Maine.

The fact they lived at all caused Florida more than a few problems, but that they lived happily in Maine offered hope things would remain cordial.

I expected the anxiety would continue until His Royal Highness was coronated alongside his wife. I found the ongoing issues to be ridiculous. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes recognized the pair set to inherit Maine adored each other. I expected one of them to develop some form of empathy, with His Royal Highness being the likeliest candidate.

Neither had any interest in dealing with Florida.

While I waited, I began the tedious process of manifesting iron to create a figurine for Olivia. The tactic would distract her, which would allow me to do my job without her clueing in I was present to protect her before and after her operation. I’d save making her the figurine she wanted the most until she was coherent and recovering, but I’d give her a clue of what would come.

I’d start with a unicorn foal, then I would add to the foal’s little family until Olivia had an entire herd of them. I’d create a stallion and mare for her as her final pieces, which would be styled similar to what I’d done for my queen. I’d caught both women sighing wistfully over my queen’s unicorn.

When I had made it, I hadn’t realized how much damage had been done to my queen. I’d expected problems, but not to the soul-shattering depths she’d suffered. Performing that one act of kindness had solidified a lot of things in me. In every RPS agent’s career, there came a moment where everything crystalized.

I’d started as an agent for general principals. I’d moved to guarding His Royal Majesty of Montana. Then, in what I’d viewed as a great honor, I’d been assigned to a rogue New York princess, a job destined to challenge my skills and dedication.

Now I was the head of her detail, and like Alfred had until his stroke, I would work to stay in my position. Retirement, accident, or injury in the line of duty came for us all, but until that moment, I would do as I needed, whatever was needed.

Creating a single figurine for my queen had begun the critical work in forming a bond with her, an unexpected gift with lasting consequences.

While I worked on the foal, shaping the molten iron into the form of a wobbly filly ready to explore the world for the first time, I considered how Princess Olivia of Montana fell into the complicated puzzle that was my life.

My queen adored Olivia, so everything Queen Jessica had said made sense. Should something happen to Olivia, something my queen could prevent with my trip to Texas for the duration of the operation and recovery, she would never forgive herself. For that reason alone, I would do my best.

But then there was the problem of Olivia, who struggled to be the princess everyone expected of her while ignoring the burdens her appearance brought crashing down on her every time someone stared at her nose.

Queen Jessica had spoken nothing but the truth; her nose did appear as though someone had taken a bat to it at one point or another. I should have understood the shape of her nose could cause physical distress and difficulty.

I couldn’t change that, but I could protect her while she healed.

I finished the foal, observing it while it cooled to make certain the metal remained flawless. Once convinced it would withstand being transported in my pocket, I allowed my thoughts to wander to how I would schedule Olivia’s recovery. Rest would help her heal, but the princess abhorred doing nothing. I would need to acquire books, various board games, and perhaps a laptop to entertain her while she healed. Depending on her pain levels, I might be able to slip in sedatives with her painkillers.

A sleeping principal made guard duty simple and pleasant. I’d even be able to sneak in some rest, something I could use.

Handling His Royal Majesty of Montana might test my patience. Fortunately, I held some confidence in being able to cool his temper upon discussing the severity of his sister’s situation. Fact would serve me the best, but his sister’s delight over her changed situation would nullify any arguments he might make. I trusted Queen Jessica of Texas to handle the media.

In reality, the public wouldn’t make much of a fuss over the operation, not after her medical record was slipped to a trusted outlet who took such situations seriously. A few calls would prevent any problems from beginning.

Princess Olivia of Montana had not won her reputation through her looks. The public respected her for her kindness, generosity, and intellect, not her nose nor face.

My new phone rang, and I checked the display to discover Her Royal Majesty of Texas wanted to speak with me again. “Your Majesty,” I greeted.

“I’m so sorry about that. Those scamps in Florida were freaking out again.”

“They haven’t yet figured out that Maine isn’t a problem?”

“Not yet, but I’m confident they’ll figure it out soon.”

I would not remind Queen Jessica of the reality of Florida, its ruling monarchs, and the young man one day destined to rule the kingdom. The heir would bring change, especially if the rumors of his blooming case of empathy proved to be the truth.

---