Page 52 of Iron Unicorn

Clicking the counter did nothing; she ignored the sound, obsessing over how everyone would hate her because she’d caved and gotten surgery. My argument that the operation had been necessary fell on deaf ears.

I suspected that her fears about her brother rejecting her fed the problem and continued the relentless cycle. I couldn’t tell how my empathy interacted with her, but her emotions came through loud and clear.

She viewed herself as worse than worthless, all because she’d taken the dive without her family’s blessing on the matter.

I could see only one way to handle the problem, and it involved getting on the phone with His Royal Majesty of Montana, setting the record straight, and having him use his talent to put the brakes on the train wreck in the suite. Her downward spiral tripped the trigger of the entire RPS team, and the whole lot of them bordered on joining the princess in having a spectacular meltdown. Of them, Eddie withstood the strain the best, although he’d run out of ideas on how to handle her.

When his beloved dad endured similar, his equally beloved mom could pull him out of the darkness.

However much I wanted to do that for Olivia, I understood that the worst thing I could do for her was take away her ability to conquer her demons. Unlike my demons, which had tasted far better than I had expected and could be served in spicy soup format, hers had sharper teeth that dug far deeper.

I waited for her to exhaust herself to the point I could tuck her into bed before putting on my headset, changing the channel to the one dedicated to Olivia, and listening in for a few minutes. The conversation, subdued in nature, would get a bit lively once I started talking.

I had no time to listen to a bunch of stressed agents blame themselves for not understanding the Montana princess might suffer from a true breakdown, the type RPS agents feared.

“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” I stated in as authoritative a tone as I could muster. “Let’s put the brakes on the general pity party. Princess Olivia has tired herself out for the time being, so it’s time to address this. The reality of the situation is simple: the Montana royals are very closely bonded, and the princess has done something rather drastic without the approval of the people she cares about the most. This incident is easy to resolve. We bring His Royal Majesty of Montana into it, I tear strips out of his hide verbally over allowing Olivia’s health to get into such a poor state, and he deals with the heavy lifting. I will text him with instructions he is to use his talent to knock her out of this cycle, calm her down, and give her a chance to absorb his reaction.”

“Is this because we tested your empathy bond?” Eddie asked.

Ah, I loved the young man’s willingness to ask difficult questions—even if the answer might cause him trouble. Fortunately for all of us, I could tell him the truth without reservation. “No. What you bastards did was for the best. While it was, frankly spoken, downright terrifying, the technique worked. And I would have consented to that sort of thing if given some time to process everything. Would I recommend that for most people? No. But for me? It was a valid strategy, and I resent its effectiveness. Revengewillbe coming. But before I can properly focus on revenge, the emotional train wreck in this suite needs to have some sense knocked back into her. And, unfortunately for us, the person best for that job is His Royal Majesty of Montana. I’m willing to place the call, but you’re going to have to defend my life and limb from him. Hewillcome to Texas.”

“He’s already in Texas, Terry,” Eddie informed me. “He’s been visiting his daughter after delivering you to us for the rest of our scheme. He has not put two and two together yet.”

“Isn’t he the one campaigning for an immediate wedding?” I checked on Olivia, determined the woman still slept, and allowed myself a gusty sigh. “I’m the one most likely to survive his wrath, but you fine folks will need to get him brought to the hotel after I place the call.”

“Are you going to be all right?” The concern in Eddie’s voice amused me. “He does not take anything regarding his beloved sister well.”

“Well, I better be all right or his beloved sister will snap even more than she’s already snapped. I’ll throw myself under the bus as necessary, but if he decides to try to end my existence, at least try to stop him.”

“No promises, but I’ll try,” Eddie stated. “I’ll bring Dad into it if necessary. Dad’s good at handling His Royal Majesty of Montana.”

That went into the understatement category. “I’m going to use my phone for this. That way, he might answer. And if he doesn’t, I’m going straight to Daphne.”

“Why don’t I warn Daphne so she can come to the rescue?” Eddie offered. “It’ll take me five minutes to have her ready to intervene.”

“Good plan. I’ll wait five and then call His Royal Majesty.”

Five minutes wasn’t a long time to live, but if it helped Olivia, I’d do a lot more than put myself in a life threatening situation. In reality, if he didn’t use his talent on me, we’d have one hell of a fight—a fight with relatively even odds. If I put in earplugs before fighting him, I’d stand a decent chance of victory.

As I wanted to roll him in the mud versus inflict injury, I’d take the calm approach and hope for the best.

I watched my watch along with the princess, relieved she’d relaxed in sleep. At the five minute mark, I grabbed my phone, thumbed through my contacts, and pressed the green icon to connect the call.

“I was wondering when you’d give me a call, Terry,” His Royal Majesty of Montana answered. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a bunch of Texans tossed me in a tank with an offensive number of crustaceans. After I recovered from pneumonia, they decided the issue of my phobia needed to be addressed.”

“Well, that is not what I expected to hear. You’re just having a rough time of it, aren’t you? Are you still off duty?”

“Technically, I’m still on the injured roster, although that’s due to pneumonia rather than the minor concussion I somehow acquired on my way to Texas. I ask that you please put on your suppressor, as we’re about to have a bit of an argument, Your Majesty.”

“Well, I appreciate the warning. My suppressor is on. I’ve been dealing with politicians all day, so it was a wise idea. What are we about to have an argument about?”

“Were you aware that Olivia required surgery to open her airways due to the deformity of her nasal passages?”

I figured rather than flat out accusing him, I would give him a chance to digest the subject and react.

While I’d expected the explosion of curses, his choice to do so in a variety of languages intrigued me. I waited through the storm, narrowing my eyes while I attempted to make sense of his reaction.

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