Page 86 of Honorable Convictions
“Punishment?” VK Roman asked, his brows furrowed.
“Pierce thinks we’re going to jail.”
Conley laughed. “You know law better than anyone. Why would you think that?”
Pierson managed a shrug.
Arvandus leaned forward and to Pierson’s shock, his eyes grew damp. “Congratulations on working through everything you’ve been through, whether self-imposed or whatever obstacles Fate threw in your way. It’s tough to think of lost time, and I hope you’re able to let that go.”
Aware that Arvandus had been murdered in front of his mate and that his mate had gone on to survive for two thousand years alone, Pierson ached for them anew. “Thank you. Our plan is to be happy.”
“Congratulations from all of us,” Conley added. “We’re going to do everything in our power to make sure you get that happiness.”
“Which brings us to why we’re together this morning,” Roman remarked.
“Absolutely,” Drystan said. “We need to figure out what the future looks like. Is this something you prefer to keep quiet for now? Or are you at a place where you’re ready to go public?”
Pierson offered Mitchell a smile, which earned him a wink. “I believe Blondie and I are ready to take this public.”
“Good, let’s talk about Juris Knights. From the start of our leadership, we understood that certain people are better suited for particular jobs. However, as we’ve grown, gaps have formed. Once they pop up, we find a way to fix them because that’s how we improve. One thing we haven’t been able to resolve is JKs. Your system works. Ranks aren’t going to be added. But you have no leader. There’s no one to advocate for you, though we try. There are only four of us and tens of thousands of fallen knights. In recent years, we’ve discussed the possibility of a new position,” Conley said.
“That new position would be equivalent to Venerable Knights, giving Juris clear leadership. The problem? The two best JKs hate one another, so how do we choose? One is a genius who is unparalleled in knowledge while the other is engaging and works relentlessly to better himself. Recently, the one with the crazy memory decides to create a liaison position. This is exciting for many reasons, including our hope that within a few years, the most lauded JK would become Master Juris Knight. But now, you two have taken away any need to wait or to choose between you. We want you both to become Master Juris Knights. You’d assign cases, coordinate schedules, and continue revising the requirements along with training. That’s to start. You’d also be included in the larger structure currently consisting of the four of us which would enable you to present your own ideas for the future as well as negotiate compromises between JKs and FKs,” Drystan added.
“You’ve certainly given us something to discuss. How soon do we need to make a decision?” Mitchell asked, surprising Pierson. As someone who was unabashedly ambitious, he expected his mate to accept but was happy that he was allowing them an opportunity to debate the idea.
“Take all the time in the world that you need,” Conley invited.
“Can we wait until Mitch and I have had a chance to talk to put forward any statement or announcement regarding our matebond?”
“Absolutely, but if you don’t want your secret to get out, you’re not gonna be able to hold hands in our staff meeting this morning,” Arvandus teased.
“All of you, get out of here,” Drystan ordered. “Text or call us with any questions that pop up about this. Have Kyle get you on the schedule to say yes or no when you’re ready. And Mitchell, don’t forget that case file.”
“Yes, Reverent Knight.”
∞∞∞
It was enormously difficult to hand over his last separation case, and Mitchell hadn’t appreciated the chastising he’d gotten from his so-called friends for not opting out sooner. But what had been even harder was getting through the day without thinking about the incredible offer they were given that morning, so Mitchell burst through his front door and raced into the bedroom to change his clothes. Once his jeans were on, he sent Pierson a text telling him to get the hell home, and went into the kitchen for a much-needed beer.
Halfway through his first gulp, an irritated blond walked in. “What’s with the nasty text messages?”
“Nasty?”
“You told me to get the fuck home.”
“We have to talk.”
“Well, give me a kiss so I can go get changed,” Pierson demanded. At the distracted buss Mitchell offered, Pierson rolled his eyes. “And pour me a damn glass of wine. What’re we doing for dinner?”
“Okay, I made it through the entire day without losing my mind. I’m not sitting through you cooking and all that shit. I’ll order a pizza.”
“I want artichokes on it,” Pierson demanded, heading for the living room.
“Fuck you, Blondie. You’re getting pepperoni.”
It only took a couple of minutes to secure their order, which didn’t have a single artichoke heart near it. Pierson returned, looking too damn good in a green T-shirt and jeans so faded they were threadbare at the knees, and Mitchell handed him a glass of wine for the price of a kiss.
“Look at you pouring me Chianti when we’re having pizza.”
