Page 23 of Iron Unicorn

“The horror in their eyes, Terry. They thought you’d wanted hot sweet tea.”

“Bless their hearts,” Jessica moaned before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Just bless their sweet hearts. We had to make the whole lot of them a pot to understand the difference between hot sweet tea and a proper cup of tea for soothing a throat. They were going to give you syrup lightly reminiscent of tea.”

“Thank you for saving me from that travesty.”

“You’re welcome.” Queen Jessica did a sweep of the hotel room, nodded her satisfaction, and pointed at the door before snapping her fingers. “Move it, Pat. We have things to do. Sickly New Yorker is on the mend, his queen has calmed down, and he needs a chance to enjoy a cup of tea without us hovering. We’ll be back with supper for both of you. You’ve surely got to be sick of soup by now.”

“I’ll bring you yams and chicken,” King Patrick promised on his way out of the room. “The hotel kitchen’s been mighty kind about letting me take up some space. We won’t get into your hair much, so take a load off, relax, and use your earpiece if you need anything at all. If you want fast food? Ask for it. The royal physicians want your calories up yesterday so you can start physical therapy and be fit enough to ride as soon as you aren’t trying to hack your lungs out.”

SIX

No father wanted to outlive his children.

Princess Oliviaof Montana recovered faster than I did, and I blamed my age for the various setbacks. Whatever I’d inhaled had done a good job of setting up residence in my lungs, resulting in a hefty dose of antibiotics and even more bedrest to conquer. Fortunately for my sanity, the royal physicians convinced the various monarchs to go back to their lives.

To adapt Eddie to an exterior role, he got assigned as my primary agent until I either left Texas or passed my physical.

Once upon a time, when I’d been much newer to the RPS, he’d been a child in the king’s shadow. As a young man, he’d grown into himself. Anyone who knew the Texan monarchs understood the boy wasn’t theirs by blood, but anyone with a functioning set of eyes saw how he’d grown to be a chip off their blocks.

The royal children all resembled their parents but had grown to become their own people.

Eddie had decided to walk in his father’s footsteps, carrying himself with the dignity and majesty of a king without having anything to rule. I wondered if anyone saw how King Patrick’s careful hand had cultivated a future monarch.

“I’m just going to apologize for Dad now,” Eddie said, and he checked the door before transitioning from active duty agent to something closer to a companion. I marked that as another one of his father’s careful and subtle teachings. “He’s absolutely beside himself because I opted to join the RPS. He gave his full support, but he’s having trouble with his therapy. He sees me and remembers my father, and he’s terrified of history repeating itself.”

I understood. King Patrick had more than a few reasons to worry. If he lost Eddie, he lost his daughter as well.

No father wanted to outlive his children.

“He’s done nothing he needs to apologize for, so don’t you worry about it,” I said. “I should be apologizing for getting you roped into this mess unless you enjoy running around the kingdom. And if that’s so, you’re welcome.”

“Like a wild mustang with the wind in my hair,” Eddie replied with a rather crooked grin.

Variants of the phrasing, which had originated from California thanks to His Royal Highness and a monitored break for freedom, had spread worse than a wildfire. But if Eddie liked the work, I wouldn’t stop him—and I’d see about lighting some fires under his co-workers to make the journey as enjoyable for him as possible. “Then you’ll have a good time. Evasion scenarios are a great deal of fun. The first few days will be easy wins for you.”

“Like hell they will be!” Olivia stomped her foot, came over, and leaned down, her hands planted on her hips. “We are not losing to a bunch of prissy RPS agents.”

“But I am a prissy RPS agent,” I reminded her.

“You won’t be wearing a suit, so you aren’t prissy. And you can make tea.”

“Well, yes.”

Eddie snickered, dropped down onto the couch, and took a load off. “If they’d tossed me in here sooner, I would have been able to handle all your tea needs. Apparently, I needed some additional training since I’ve been interior the entirety of my career. Playing at leading a detail is as much of a scenario as what is planned. I only have some of the duties, but they want to see how a green agent can handle a temporary takeover. Personally, I think they’re crazy. You’re seasoned and easy to work with. It’s the rambunctious royals that are an issue.”

I could think of a few qualifications Eddie might need for the venture that could be confirmed within a week. “Needed your firearm qualifications?”

“Emergency medical, evasive driving, and firearm. The firearms qualification was the easy part, although I ended up doing it twice. I was well over the minimal qualifications, and they couldn’t believe the result. I blame Dad for that. I did better the second time, too. When Dad got his permit, he did it to put down horses and cattle in the field, but his anxiety kicked in. He couldn’t use disapproving looks on his RPS agents if he’s not as good as they are. The RPS keeps forgetting Dad made sure every last one of us kids could handle a firearm. He started safety training in the toddler stage.”

One day, His Royal Majesty of Texas might realize he didn’t have to be the best of the best at everything he did. His dedication to safety pleased me, especially as His Royal Majesty did handle a firearm with alarming frequency.

It wouldn’t surprise me if the Texan king carried a concealed weapon on his personsomewhere.

I sympathized with the frustration in Eddie’s tone. Leading my queen’s detail involved a shocking amount of interior work in addition to my protective duties. Considering the number of hours I worked, it came as no surprise I’d gotten ill—and had taken longer than anyone preferred to recover. “We could have Eddie on our team for one of the days, Olivia.” I snickered at the thought of His Royal Majesty of Texas realizing his boy was running away from the Texan RPS. “We could rile the entire Texan RPS up and drive them halfway mad within six hours.”

The princess joined me in snickering, bounced into the kitchen, and said, “Let’s do that on the third day. The first two days are going to be easy rides to make sure your health is fine. The third day is when we start getting serious with the exercise. That’ll let Eddie be on hand in case you have trouble, we have a solid contact route with the RPS, and he knows Texas well. The next day, we’ll run like we mean it if your lungs cooperate. They should. You didn’t have the death cough last night, much to the horror of the RPS agents expecting the death cough.”

As I’d been woken up three times thanks to overly concerned agents making sure I still breathed, I fully understood the disgust in the woman’s tone. The third incident, I’d introduced my pillow to the agent’s face, barked orders for the lot of them to bugger off, and gone back to bed.

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