“No.”
“And Mirth? You’re friendly with Mirth.”
Greg glances at me. “I know my duty, Lord Savoy. I protect you. And Her Royal Highness.”
His implication is clear. Mirth doesn’t need to know even a hint of any doubt Rian might be navigating. We’re in agreement on that.
I climb into the car. Greg takes the front passenger seat after a murmured conversation with the driver.
I glance back toward the cafe as we pull away.
Rian is outside, standing in the rain. Hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped.
We didn’t get around to exchanging numbers. Or making plans to introduce him, formally, to the others.
Maybe that was the way he wanted it all along.
I have no idea what I’m going to tell Mirth. Or Bolan, for that matter. Maybe it’s not my place to say anything at all.
Except my bond group is fundamentally mine to protect. Even from someone who is supposed to be ours. Supposed to want to be ours.
6
MIRTH
“Lord Hereford is notto be disturbed.”
Roz has insisted on accompanying me through the all-but-deserted corridors of the World Council. Well, the offices of the World Council. In Zurich. And my guard now completely blocks me from the view of the assistant standing between me and the next step in letting just a little more of Armin go.
Not that I’m feeling overly dramatic this morning. Not at all.
I slept restlessly, even while comfortably nestled between Sully and Bolan, then took the royal helicopter to Zurich from London after an early breakfast together. Yes, there’s a landing pad on the roof of my apartment building, though I generally avoid using it for the sake of the neighbors.
Along with our royal guards, I also haven’t managed to entirely shake my two bedmates, who insisted on accompanying me. Even though Sully hates flying by helicopter, and Bolan was supposed to meet with some lawyers about a conflict of interest with his current recording contract. I left the two of them—accompanied by Greg, of course— wandering the city after we arrived. Though I don’t expect they’ll stay away for long.
“Lord Hereford’s instructions are explicit.” The assistant stands a little taller, smoothing back her already perfectly smooth, pretty blond hair.
I peek over Roz’s shoulder. Though my guard isn’t much taller than me, she has a talent for occupying all the space she desires. It might be an intimidation tactic — brought into play because once again, I’ve insisted that she not wear her royal guard uniform. But I wouldn’t mind being able to emulate it just a little bit more in my everyday life.
“I simply need to pass through the offices,” I say gently. “I’m sure the earl won’t mind —”
“The councilor is a busy man,” the assistant snaps, hands on her slim hips now. “If you need to speak with him, we can make an appointment for next month —”
I step to Roz’s side. My guard is a moment away from giving Lord Hereford’s assistant a little essence-fueled nudge.
The assistant flicks her gaze to me, dismissing me in an instant with a twist of her lips. Granted, Roz does appear to be more intimidating at first glance. But …
The assistant goes very still. Her eyes widen as she slowly returns her gaze to me, as if she’s actually in fear of what her eyes see even as her brain takes a moment to process it. Her face pales.
I offer her a polite smile. Though I don’t remove my sunglasses. I probably should have when we entered the building, just to be polite, but I haven’t slept well, and my head is aching just a little.
My heart is aching just a little.
My soul is aching a little more.
The assistant drops into as deep a curtsy as her pencil skirt allows.
Roz snorts, then tries to cover her inappropriate reaction by clearing her throat.
