“We’re strongest together,” Sully says.
Rian tilts his head again, listening to the next set of announcements.
“Your flight?” I ask.
“Yes. Mirth, I —”
“You sort out everything you need to sort,” I say gently. “Text me.”
Rian flashes me a grin. “What kind of texts?”
I laugh.
“Are there pictures?” Sully asks, always quick to pick up any and all innuendo. “I need to see pictures!”
“Absolutely not,” I say.
“I’ll send you one of Mirth,” Rian says at the same time.
“What?!” I cry. “Absolutely not —”
“Got to go! Love you, Highness.”
Rian ends the call. I blink at the blank screen for long enough that Sully’s shoulders start to shake against mine in silent laughter.
“Is it the ‘love you’ or the promised exchange of sexy pictures that’s tripping you up, Highness?” he teases, hitting Rian’s pet name for me hard.
“That’s none of —”
Sully makes a grab for my phone, no doubt to search Rian’s text messages. Or get his phone number. We wrestle for it. Sully quickly gets the upper hand, managing to pin me down.
I distract him just as well as he distracted me last night.
I end up having to shower a second time.
And missing breakfast.
2
The Yates country home is about an hour outside of London by train. Though we were usually driven there by the royal guard whenever we visited during school breaks. Roz dozes beside me in the passenger seat of the Phantom as I slow to turn onto the long drive. I know she’s not sleeping properly at night because of me, but it would likely be worse for her if I took off on my own.
I haven’t called ahead. And maybe I should have because I don’t actually know what’s going on with Bolan and his mother — what with the reveal of Bolan and Rian’s shared parentage only two days ago. But even though I’m not entirely certain of my welcome, I needed to come.
Armin was happy here. We were allowed to just be children here, then to just be teenagers here, treated the same as family. Not prince and princess. Not presumptive heir and spare heir to the realm.
I know that leaving a bit of Armin behind will help heal the gaping wound in my chest, but calling ahead would have formalized all of that.
The grass that spreads out from either side of the driveway is a vibrant green and in need of edging despite it barely being spring yet. The windows and doors of the red-brick house need a fresh coat of paint. It rained overnight, but the sun is currently peeking through the clouds overhead.
I’m acutely aware that I’ve left Sully behind. Reminding myself that he has his own responsibilities to deal with today — a list of ‘secrets’ that apparently includes purchasing some ridiculously pricy art that’s not actually for sale, given the peeved tone Sully was using while haggling on his phone as I left him.
I’m not certain what collecting rare art has to do with establishing the Savoy bond group. I just know that Sully has a list of things to spend massive amounts of money on, and he’s the one with the contacts in the art world.
The odd ache in my chest from leaving Sully behind eased as we drove out of London, thankfully getting out of city traffic and onto the motorway quickly. But I can still feel an echo of it if I let myself focus on it. As if I’ve tethered myself to Sully, but it’s … new, even tentative, and it feels too early to be testing the boundaries.
All silly thoughts. Distractions, really. So I don’t have to think about the next task on my own unwritten to-do list.
I’ve barely pulled up to the front of the house before Adeline is throwing open the front door and striding across the wide front patio. Tall, white-blond, and blue-eyed like her son Bolan, she’s still drying her hands with a tea towel. But her blazing grin tells me I’m welcome.
