Page 1 of Trained Royal
Chapter 1
Patrick
The music flowed through the air as Patrick Sutcliffe let his fingers do the talking. He didn’t even look at the keys as he played, closing his eyes and letting the notes rise and fade into the spacious music room at his home in Bagshot Park. This washisroom. His space to disappear into the sounds he could create. Be it his piano, violin, flute or clarinet. Any of them could take him away from the present and into a world of whatever he wanted: peace, fire, danger. He could make it all with the notes he chose.
That day, he needed to breathe. He needed to be at peace, and the music held a lilting quality, soft, melodic tones that calmed his soul and rested his mind.
Unfortunately, the moment his fingers stopped, the roar of reality intruded.
He held his hands over the keys, wanting nothing more than to continue, to stay in the bubble he’d created, but he had work to do. Work he’d initiated himself and couldn’t bring himself to get out of. Work that made him feel weaker rather than stronger as it should. He pulled the lid down over the keys and stood, sliding the stool into place. He preferred things to be just right because it felt a lot like control. Something he didn’t consider he had a lot of.
He shuffled towards the door, pausing with his hand on the handle, then opened it with a jerk, coming to a stop when he found his brother sitting on a bench opposite. The man who’d been keeping secrets from him for over eighteen years. Although he’d forgiven Henry, it was hard to not let the hurt of knowing he hadn’t come to him when he’d needed help from intruding whenever they spoke.
“I loved that last one you played,” Henry said. “What was it?”
Patrick leaned back against the closed door. “It doesn’t have a name. I just played.”
“It was beautiful.”
Patrick gave a small smile and pushed off the door. “Thank you.” He inhaled. “What brings you here? I thought you’d be with Robert?”
“He has a busy day and practically shoved me out of the flower shop, saying I was distracting him. I thought we could have breakfast together.” Henry stood, the two inches height difference making them almost eye to eye.
“I’ll have coffee.”
Henry tilted his head, reminding Patrick of the puppy he sometimes was, and said, “Do you want to stay here or go somewhere else?”
“Let’s stay here. I have somewhere to be in an hour.”
Henry scrunched his nose as they started walking. “Anything interesting?”
“Not really. Why is Robert’s day going to be busy?” Patrick diverted the subject because no one knew about his extracurricular activities yet.
Henry chuckled. “He has an entire list of bouquets and centrepieces to make for a wedding reception taking place this afternoon. Naomi and Finn are there to help, but Robert has had to call in help from his grandpa. I keep telling him he needs to get someone else trained up, but he keeps putting it off. Maybe this will be the reminder he needs.”
They entered the dining room, and Henry had let the kitchen staff know they were there. Patrick made himself and his brother a drink and carried it over to the large table, settling into a seat opposite where Henry sat. He could feel Henry’s gaze on him, but he ignored it. At least until he spoke.
“You seem forlorn, Paddy. What’s going on?”
Patrick sipped his coffee, biding his time. How could he explain how useless he felt? How incompetent? Each of them—the Tantalising Twelve as his cousin George had coined them—had brought something to the table when it came to all the problems they were facing except him. His aunt Charlotte and her cohorts had been on a decade-long campaign to eradicate the LGBTQ+ community within the royal family, trying to force those “affected” to shed their true personality and regain her favour as heterosexual allies. In the last year, she had upped her game, ending the life of their beloved aunt and queen, Louisa. It was entirely possible the bomb that had taken her life was meant for her son George because he and his mother had swapped places at the last minute. Regardless, Charlotte’s reign of terror continued, and Patrick felt helpless.
“Paddy?”
Patrick lifted his gaze to Henry. “How does it feel to be engaged?”
Henry narrowed his eyes, his gaze boring into Patrick, but after years of living with the man, it no longer worked. Henry sighed and smiled. “It’s great.”
“Even after only a week?” Patrick chuckled. “I didn’t think it would make a difference.”
“There’s something about seeing my ring on Robert’s finger that makes it all seem…more real, I suppose.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Have you seen anyone you like the look of? We’re all dropping like flies at the minute.”
Another subject Patrick wanted away from, but he indulged his brother as he hadn’t answered his previous enquiry. “No. I don’t see many people. I doubt I’ll meet anyone soon.”
A household staff member entered the room, and they stopped talking while Henry’s plate was set down.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Your Highnesses. Do you need anything else?”
