Page 12 of Reckless in Ruins

In my peripheral vision, I can see Flora’s gaze darting between me and the queen.

“I learn something from you every day, Your Majesty. What it takes to be a leader.”

To my shock, the queen waves me off with a scoffing laugh. “You can stop kissing my royal ass, Uther.”

A snort from Flora threatens to make me break my professional facade.

“I learned that we must treasure our history, no matter how broken and faded it seems.”

“Now you’re just being poetic. Take the rest of the day off, Uther. You look tired.”

What the hell is this?

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I notice you forgot to give the signal to the drivers. I think you must be overworked.”

“Not at all, I’m perfectly?—”

She cuts me off. “For the sake of all that’s good in the world, I’m cutting back on your hours.”

I pause, not quite knowing what she means. “If my services have been inadequate, Your Majesty?—”

“Not inadequate in the least,” the queen interrupts. “But with the way this family is headed, if there’s one thing I learned from raising my children, it’s that I’ve placed too many expectations on them. And we have been asking too much of our staff. Let’s face it, this monarchy isn’t making laws of any significance. It’s time to scale back.”

Quickly, I mentally search through my contacts to determine if there’s a second job I can procure. The queen picks up on my moment of panic. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re keeping you on. I’ll pay you full-time wages if you agree to stay, but also agree to work less.”

Perhaps since the king passed away, the queen is realizing she can’t operate at the same clip as she always has. Or maybe she regrets controlling every aspect of her children’s lives, and the fact that several of them no longer speak to her. Whatever it is, the queen is changing before my very eyes.

“Very well, I agree to your terms.”

She rubs her palms together as if washing off the day’s hard work. “Excellent. That’s sorted. Perhaps now that stylist of yours can finally lasso you with that tape she carries around her neck. Gods know you’re a difficult one to pin down.”

The queen doesn’t meet my gaze. She’s done with this conversation and instead turns her attention to the quickly approaching city skyline.

Flora’s shocked eyes catch mine. I struggle to maintain my unflappable presence. The princess bites her lip and returns to whomever she’s texting, tapping away furiously on her screen.

The long and short of it is this: I’ll have more free time.

More time for myself. More time for Sable. More chances to explore every whim with her. More opportunities to have my way with her, to fill her with my seed, to see her belly rounded with our children.

And I’ll be staying employed by the palace indefinitely, which means I’ll be able to provide for our children, and even our children’s children.

The queen practically decreed it. We have to do this now, I think wryly.

I know what people say about me. The silent minder takes his job far too seriously. Gravenlanders are a relaxed, fun-loving people. The most I ever have to worry about is the occasional drunk reveler getting too close to the queen. Or a tiresome diplomat taking up too much of her time. I approach every moment of every day as if the queen and the princess’s life depends on my vigilance.

Better to be too careful than to let my guard down and risk the lives of my staff.

Still, what can I do if the queen wishes me to work less?

The queen practically decreed that Sable and I end up together, so what other choice do we have?

8

Sable

“I thought I told you not to bathe.”

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