Page 63 of Searching for the Prince
“Joking aside, Gwil, why wouldn’t you be doing that already?”
They didn’t discuss his finances—she’d flaunted her own enough but never in the sense that he didn’t have money, just not as much. “Blends are cheaper. I’m planning to talk to Hyax about the money side of things, but it’s not something on his radar. Paying for things kinda happens.”
“Blends aren’t… great. You used to live with Hoffman, you can’t tell me you weren’t living like a king.”
“I didn’t want for anything in the sense of things that could be bought. I helped with the tasting of some of his early prototypes, but that was years ago, so I adapted.”
She gave him the most curious look. “How did things end with Oliver? We weren’t speaking at the time, and it wasn’t a topic I could drag up with no reason.”
“I was bored, he wasn’t what you’d call an overly affectionate bloke. I wanted to do more and work on my detective business, he wanted a trophy husband. And let’s face it, I ain’t that.”
“You’re reasonably attractive, Gwil, we share the same gene pool.” She smirked. “But I understand the boredom. Philip doesn’t try and curtail my activities, and I don’t interfere with his. How did Oliver take it?”
He wasn’t sure why she wanted to know, apart from her being nosey. “He was a bit pissed off at first, then he begged a bit but not a lot and, in the end, it was pretty amicable. I left the States and returned to London and that was it. I get the occasional email, but I’ve not heard from him in years.”
“If you’re looking for someone with enough money to bankroll a royal family, then Oliver Hoffman could. He’d probably not even notice a drop in his funds. I hate to think how much he’s worth these days.”
Most people, after he admitted he used to date the bloke who invented the process to successfully bottle blood, either didn’t believe him or thought he was a prize muppet for leaving. Hoffman was rich when they’d broke up, but these days he’d be far more affluent. “Are you suggesting Oliver Hoffman paid the Elementa to get Metra to marry Hyax? Why the fuck would he?”
“You. He’s the sort who could play the long game. You don’t get married to Hyax, and yes you’re his Beloved or whatever, but Hoffman would be banking on that turning sour. Then he could sweep in when after a couple of years of you not being the centre of Hyax’s attention and lure you away.”
“You’re off your fucking head.”
She seemed quite pleased with herself. “It’s a better working hypothesis than anything you’ve come up with.”
“That’s because I’ve not got a hypothesis, so saying aliens did it is as likely as Hoffman paying off a fae prince so he can get back his ex-boyfriend.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want you back but doesn’t want you to be happy with someone who isn’t him.”
Hoffman wasn’t a malignant ball sac, nor was he a mopey heartbroken fool. “He was dating a Paris fashion model a few years ago. He ain’t giving me a second thought.”
“I think we should investigate this further. Make some discreet enquiries into what Hoffman’s been doing for the last year or so. He’s not exactly reclusive but he’s not been so public of late.”
Hoffman had never been one for noisy and boisterous settings He’d go to the odd party but he preferred long expensive dinners, buying fine art on a whim, and tinkering withengineering projects, not caring how much it cost him. “He’s probably holed up in a cave creating a robot servant. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”
If he let himself believe this for a moment, which he wouldn’t because it was crackpot nonsense, Hoffman was a genius and wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave a trail. Hyax would laugh his arse off when he told him. Penelope was a force of nature, so he would ignore her particular dose of crazy and she’d soon get bored. His afterlife was weird enough, he didn’t need his deranged sister making it worse.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Hyax stood next to Metra. He felt a bit like a creature on display, dressed in his finest. This should have been one of his most fondest moments, where he stood up and declared himself ready to take a husband. Instead, he seethed inwardly and tried to keep his disdain and anger from becoming visible. This would go down as one of the worst days of his life—no one would die, the world would not end, but he could not manage an iota of good grace or happiness and would have to fake it. The declaration had been read, he was now enduring the hell of small talk and pretence.
“You make a striking couple. Hyax’s fair hair and Metra’s black mane are simply stunning,” Council Treyma remarked. She was one of Queen Vaness’s senior appointees and Hyax thought she must be aware of the situation. “There will be many broken hearts in both tribes now you are both no longer available for matrimony.”
“There would be no reason to be upset over our marriage, my heart belongs to my Beloved and has done so way before tonight.” He’d decided since Gwil had been part of the declaration that he’d be well within his rights to bring him upat every eventuality. If he’d had his way, Gwil would have been here.
Treyma choked on the drink she was sipping and Hyax took it as a sign to move along. He grabbed a glass of ambrosia, if he had to do this, he was not going to do it sober.
“You know you are allowed to have a conversation without mentioning another man,” Metra said. “I get you’re not happy to be here, and I’m not thrilled either, but if we could get through this with a fraction of civility, I’d appreciate it.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you appreciate.” Hyax saw Sitial with his wife across the room. “Especially as you have your special person here, one I know you lied about and continue to do so.”
“Can we not do this now? What will it take?”
“I’ve already told you what I would consider a good starting point.”
Metra clenched his jaw. He glanced around. It wouldn’t be long before someone else came along wanting to give them their best wishes. “Fine. I’m a lying, cheating piece of shit. Happy?”
He’d not expected Metra to confess, and his admitting he was a fucker did nothing to make it better. “No. You’re still a cunt. And I hope he gives you wing droop.”
