Page 23 of Worthy Promises
“I just want to say one last thing to you before you go get him,” Brogan said.
“Okay.”
“You know he’s doing sword lessons?” Brogan asked. Worth was fond of those sword lessons and was happily learning from the talented new High King. Although he was new to it, Worth was determined to become an expert.
“Yep, and I plan on joining him.”
“I’m glad you said that. I need to warn you. He’s going to kick your ass.”
“What? Why would he do that?” Aleksander asked, his expression dumbfounded.
“Well, because he’s ridiculously good,” Noirin responded. “And I never in my life had pain in my shoulders until he whipped me through workouts. But watching him is insane. I mean, even the sentinels are impressed with his dagger skill, but that sword…shit. I can’t wait for this weekend, because I’m going to get Conley to bring his so they can go head-to-head.”
“Popcorn match for sure,” Worth said, looking forward to the spectacle.
Pride for Rafe blazed in Aleksander’s gaze. “I can’t wait until this afternoon to see it for myself.”
“Good, now go get him,” Noirin insisted.
Worth swallowed heavily as Aleksander returned with his other half. With his shoulders hunched and his face blank, Rafe stood there as if preparing himself to endure yet another blow.
“Your Highness, we were chosen to guard, protect, and advise you and Aleksander,” Brogan stated. “And in that, we failed.”
“No, you’ve done your job. Everyone’s safe.”
“Do you feel safe? Do you feel like you have a family around you ready to support you?” Brogan asked. “Because you do, and our decision to shield you from household issues and annoying guests in your office, and demanding silence whenever you came into a room led you to believe that we were somehow not happy to have you as High King. Nothing could be further from the truth, Your Highness, and we beg for your forgiveness. I’m sorry, we thought we were doing the right thing, but we went against our oath. We had no right not to discuss that with you or make that kind of decision behind your back.”
“They do like you,” Aleksander said, pulling Rafe close and kissing the top of his black-and-blue curls. “They just suck.”
Rafe chuckled at Aleksander’s attempt at humor. “You’re horrible, Sander.”
“He didn’t put us up to this,” Noirin insisted. “We wanted to help, and we did more harm than good. That’s not how things should work here, and we’re really sorry.”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing to me,” Rafe said. “I would prefer if decisions like that didn’t happen behind locked doors, but I understand your motives. I guess if you didn’t believe I was such a mess, you wouldn’t feel like I needed to be protected in that way.”
“Nonsense,” Worth countered. They didn’t deserve to be absolved of their guilt for behaving so heavy-handedly, but Worth and his fellow Dukes were united in doing their jobs to the fullest. They saw themselves as protectors first, then advisors. “You think we didn’t try to reduce Aleksander’s stress while you were taken from him? Of course we did. In not such a grand fashion, but when someone is hurting, that’s what family does. We close ranks. The D’Vaires taught me that the day I arrived at this mansion. Will you tell us what asshat has gone out of his way to be hurtful to you?”
“No, I’ve created enough strife in this house.”
Worth sighed dramatically, dissatisfied with Rafe’s answer. Someone had said terrible things to Rafe, and Worth wanted to know who it was so it could be stopped immediately. Rafe was honorable and committed fully to their court—almost as much as he was devoted to Aleksander. “Have fun arguing with him for the name, big brother.”
“Thanks, guys, for trying to help me. I appreciate that you wanted to,” Rafe said, relaxing in Aleksander’s embrace. “And Sander, I’m sorry I complained about shit to you. It was small of me, and I was wrong.”
“Rafe. No, you were not, and I will not accept your apology. Will you sword fight with Conley this weekend?” Aleksander asked. “These idiots kept the family from visiting, so I thought we’d get everyone together. They’re bragging about how good you are with a sword, and Conley’s unbeaten, so I thought you might enjoy taking him down.”
“If no one else has beaten him, I don’t know how you think I can, but I’ll fight anyone. I’ve been practicing my whole life, and it’s something I enjoy.”
“One last question,” Mac said. “When do we get to see the new throne room?”
“Seems appropriate that it gets unveiled with Their Majesties here. What do you think, Rafe?” Aleksander asked.
“That works,” Rafe replied, grasping Aleksander’s forearm. “If the walls are pure gold, blame Worth. He gave Jeremiah’s group an unlimited budget.”
Jeremiah was a talented dragon trainer and the newest addition to the D’Vaire household. He was an old friend of Worth’s family, and his application had arrived while Aleksander was deep in his magical coma. Rafe had stepped up to process Jeremiah’s entry into their sanctuary, and the fit was a perfect one.
“Throws me right under the bus,” Worth muttered. For too long, his brother had used a hideous throne room. Worth wasn’t fond of spending money and did everything possible to save even a penny, but the High Kings deserved a space that honored them.
“I haven’t even gotten to say hi to Jeremiah,” Aleksander said, releasing Rafe. “And I need to see his dragon.”
