Page 6 of Rogue Royal
“All right. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
Mav cancelled the call and jumped into the shower, washing away some of his sleepiness. It appeared he spent most of his time working, sleeping or showering. His migraine, however, had dulled but had not disappeared. Because of that, he knew it would return later that day, if not sooner.
Within twenty minutes, he dashed through the hallways to the king’s chambers, his footsteps loud and fast. He stopped at the door, smoothing his clothes and allowing his heart rate to decrease enough to talk without sounding breathless.
He knocked and entered when told, bowing his head. “Good afternoon, Your Majesties.”
“Ah, thank you for coming, Maverick. Please take a seat.” Louisa Sutcliffe, the queen consort, waved her hand in the direction of the sofa. “I trust Douglas is behaving.”
Mav perched on the edge of the sofa. “Douglas should be finishing up his appointment with the Secretary of State if he hasn’t already. I’ve advised him of the additions to his schedule.”
“What is the media saying?” The king rested his head on his hand, his elbow leaning on the arm of the chair in which he sat.
Mav had checked the sites before rushing to this meeting. “Most are rehashing what happened the last time and comparing it to this time. Some are debating what he will do next. It’s the same as usual.”
“Any suggestions to encourage Douglas to stop acting out?”
The door opened behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder, watching Douglas’s face colour and his jaw firm. His eyebrows lowered, and Mav knew they’d upset him.
“Yeah, Maverick, any ideas on how to get me to toe the line?”
Mav didn’t want to answer.
****
Chapter 3
Douglas
Douglas couldn’t believe his parents were asking for advice on how to handle him. How old did they think he was? Granted, he didn’t make the best decisions sometimes, but why did he need to behandled?
He stood facing the occupants of the room and closed the door behind him. The fewer people who heard this conversation, the better. His preference would be for Maverick not to hear it either, but as they had involved the other man, there was nothing for it.
“Douglas, you have to admit you are not behaving as a royal should.” His mother crossed her legs and tilted her head at him.
“And what about how I want to live?” Douglas had this conversation many times over the years with his mother.
He saw her mouth twitch. “Within the privacy of your home or ours, you can behave however you wish. Unfortunately, our status within the country, as you know, differs from many other people. We do not have the luxury to do whatever we want to. The people look up to us. What the media publishes reflects on our family as a whole, not just you.”
Douglas’s gaze flicked to Maverick, then to the floor. His cheeks heated, and he clenched his fingers together in front of him. “I’m sorry, Mother, Father. I will try better.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but what more could he offer? His actions showed more than his words did, even when the media misinterpreted his actions.
“We will revisit this conversation in two weeks.” His father stood. “I do not want to hear any more stories about what trouble you have managed to get into. If I do, you will not like the consequences.” His father kissed his mother on her cheek, whispered something to her and strode to the door. “Maverick, keep me abreast of the situation.”
Maverick glanced at Douglas. “Yes, sir.”
Douglas clenched his jaw again, trying hard to contain what he thought of hissituation.When the door closed behind his father, Douglas relaxed his stance and approached his mother, kneeling by her feet.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I really am. I don’t know…” He didn’t finish his sentence, peering at Maverick, not wanting to expose his feelings further.
Maverick stood. “If that is all, Your Majesty?”
Louisa nodded her head. “Thank you, Maverick.”
Maverick glanced at Douglas and bowed to them before retreating. Douglas dropped his head forward, waiting for the inevitable reprimand. A hand rested against his head, the fingers running through his hair.
“Oh, Douglas. Whatever am I going to do with you?”
