Page 10 of The Prince of New York

With wide eyes, she stared at her husband before turning her gaze back to me. “Actually, I think he is more out for Ethan. I’ll miss him if Terry offs him using the mud run. If he wanted to kill you, you’d be trying the run by yourself.”

“Please don’t give Terry any ideas,” I begged.

The RPS agent in question snickered. “You’re safe this time, Prince Ian. When you’re ready, Your Majesty. We’ll be timing your run to get a baseline, and since we’ve gone through the trouble of installing it, we will be using it.”

My sister bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Ian. This is all my fault.”

“Yes, it is. I will find some way to make you pay for this, little sister.”

She giggled. “You might give the agents gray hairs if you do that.”

“They’ll survive. They might not like it, but they’ll survive.” I stared at my shoes, which were older dress shoes destined to die. “Remind me to get shoes suitable for this.”

My sister stared at her feet, which were covered in a new pair of running shoes. “I don’t think mine are going to make it, either.”

“I should have just worn a damned suit, one I don’t like,” I muttered, and I trudged towards the starting line of the course, seizing my sister’s hand and dragging her along. “How do you want to do this?”

“Race until one of us can’t clear an obstacle, and the one who can’t clear it gets to ruthlessly mock the other while in possession of the beef jerky.”

I grinned at my sister’s antics. “You just want to steal my jerky again.”

“Ethan won’t give it to me. If I want jerky, he says I have to pry it out of your hands.”

I admired Ethan’s cunning. By barring my sister from getting her beloved jerky from anyone other than me, he motivated her to chase me around. While I liked making a fuss to yank on her chain, I appreciated when my sister remembered I existed.

The first few weeks after her rise to becoming the Queen of New York, I had worried she would hate me over my role in the changes in her life. Had we lived in a better world, I would have made the sacrifice to be the king to spare her, but the people had spoken. They would accept me, but only if something happened to her.

If something happened to her, the entirety of my world would come crashing down around me.

I doubted I’d be able to make it day to day, let alone rule an entire kingdom.

“If I beat you, instead of jerky, you have to make me a plate of mangos.” Whenever I tried to eat a mango, I inevitably made a mess, incapable of rescuing the delicious flesh from its peel in a dignified fashion. My sister had figured out how to handle mangos with grace.

She snickered. “I’m sure I can provide my dainty big brother with a plate of mangos so he can eat without making a mess of the entire kitchen and his clothes.”

The last time, I’d done just that. “Should she beat me, I might even teach my little sister where to get the best jerky so she can tease her husband with her illicit jerky acquisitions.”

Leaning close to me, my sister whispered, “Do you think Terry can rescue us both when we refuse to accept help and try to make it all the way to the end of the mud run because we have placed some serious stakes?”

“It’s questionable.”

“Sacrifices have to be made. I might slow down enough to make sure you don’t drown. It would be rude to allow my brother to drown. I can rescue you and still claim my victory.”

I dragged Rachel to the starting line of the course, regarding the series of obstacles, ranging from rope ladders, logs we had to balance on, mud we needed to wade through, and monkey bars. “Terry? Do we have to actually do the obstacles? We can’t just wander through the mud?”

“You have to conquer the obstacles, I’m afraid.”

“You’re a mean man,” I informed my sister’s prized agent. “Are you sure you’re not trying to kill us?”

“I am not trying to kill you.”

While I cast a doubtful look the agent’s way, I decided to accept his words at face value. “When I throw you in the mud so I can try to go over an obstacle first, I’ll be sorry at the end of the course but not a moment sooner.”

“All is fair during the mud course,” my sister replied, cracking her knuckles. “No talent usage.”

I pulled out my suppressor from my pocket and put it on. With a satisfied nod, my sister did the same. “The winner gets to make requests of the kitchen for dinner tomorrow.”

“Not tonight?”

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