Page 98 of Mystique of the Fallen
“Obviously, Kalthekor is part of my family, so I’m biased, but do we really want any group in a parade celebrating the diversity and strength of our growing Council if they’re unwilling to deal with the Valzadari?” Timotheus asked, his brown gaze annoyed.
“Pyxlevir and I have been the ones working on the parade project,” Kalthekor explained. “It occurred to me that perhaps they have held onto a grudge against us because when Pyxlevir was a child, Elf and I went to his school because he and Gramlithyn were being bullied. Their teacher ignored the complaints from the children, and he was fired. That man was Virfenwyn. Maybe he spoke with his chieftain?”
“That was how many years ago?” Chander asked. “I’m with Timotheus. If they aren’t willing to call you because you’re Valzadari, no matter what reason they think they have, then they have no business being in this parade.”
“I’ll call them,” Zane said. “We give them forty-eight hours to respond to Chieftain Valzadari’s office or they lose their spot.”
“Thank you, Zane,” Ellery commented. “I assume we have a substitute we can notify if they do not respond to your office, Kalthekor?”
“Yes, we chose an alternate for each contest—even in instances where no second place was awarded—in case we ran into trouble,” Kalthekor responded.
Ellery smiled. “Excellent, that was great planning. Let us hope this is nothing more than a communication issue and not a tribe refusing to speak to another. That is not how our Council is supposed to function. Grant, are you satisfied with security?”
“I am,” Grant replied. “I’ve put together a couple of practices, and everyone assigned can attend at least one of them. Although I’m sure everyone can do their job without a walkthrough, I thought it couldn’t hurt to get them together for questions and to firm up exactly where I expect people to be during the parade.”
“Damian rearranged Chrys’s schedule so he could attend them all,” Zane confided, speaking of Ellery’s mate and Damian’s twin, Emperor Chrysander. Damian had guarded his brother since Fate first made Chrysander many centuries ago. “It caused quite the uproar. Niko was so mad he yelled.”
“That was because Damian altered the calendar without notifying Niko,” Ellery added. “Everyone in our office knows Niko does the scheduling. Damian deserved Niko’s ire.”
Royal Duke-mate Niko Draconis was one of the kindest, softest-spoken people Grant had ever met. It was almost impossible to imagine the shifter in a rage, but Grant freely admitted that if anyone had stepped on his toes, he would’ve done the same.
“Damian’s refusal to allow Chrys to be guarded by anyone else really backfired that day,” Warrior Chieftain Jace Cyrrien remarked. Jace was born a harpy but represented his mate’s race, the Sprite Grove, for the Council. Like all male harpies, his hair was a bright mix of colors, and Grant envied the teals and purples in his eyes and hair.
“Security is important,” Tyvalis told her eldest son. “Damian takes his job seriously. It is admirable, but following rules is also essential.”
“I hope Damian learned his lesson and will speak to Niko first next time,” Ellery said.
Zane chuckled. “Pretty sure that’s a given. Not only did he have to deal with Niko, but both Costas and Marcus gave him hell too.”
Grant was sure Royal Duke Costas Draconis—as Niko’s mate—had had plenty to say to Damian’s disregard of the rules. And while Ducsarcelle Marcus Draconis was Damian’s other half, the man who ran Draconis Enterprises was fair enough to reprimand even the man he loved if he stepped out of line.
“I’m sorry I missed it,” Chander mused.
“It was quite the spectacle,” Ellery remarked. “Have we any other issues we need to discuss before we adjourn our meeting? I believe we are well on track for a wonderful parade.”
Thankfully, there were no other problems, so Grant grabbed a couple of cookies for the road and Roman, then headed out of the conference room to deal with the pile of work that grew whenever he took a step away from his desk.
∞∞∞
With the parade in a week, Roman was trying his best to keep Grant relaxed. His mate was squeezing in any opportunity he could to review his safety plans. It wasn’t surprising. Grant was dedicated to his job, and the parade was a monumental event. As for Roman, he’d decided that he was the lone person capable of keeping Grant somewhat calm—or at least lessening his stress somewhat.
Roman plucked a bag of popcorn out of the microwave and dumped it into a big bowl. After grabbing two beers from the fridge, he left the kitchen for the living area. Grant glanced up as Roman approached the couch where his other half was staring at the detailed map he’d created on his laptop for parade day.
“You’re really stepping up your romantic game,” Grant said.
To Roman’s surprise, Grant shut his computer down and dug into the bowl of popcorn Roman had set on the coffee table. Roman sat next to Grant and handed him a beer.
“I’m not sure this counts as romantic,” Roman replied. “You didn’t have to stop working. I have plenty of shit to keep me occupied.”
“My eyes are starting to cross. We’re ready for this parade. I’m not sure how the time passed so quickly, but everyone has their assignments, and I know I can count on them. Next week, when this thing finally happens, it’s going to be great. I expect a few hiccups, but we can handle it.”
“Of course, you’re the man in charge. You got this.”
Grant leaned over and kissed Roman. He tasted of salt and butter, making Roman smile.
“Everyone should have someone who believes in them like you do for me,” Grant said.
“You’re great at your job.”
