Page 33 of Trained Royal
George listened to the conversation going on around him, but he didn’t join in. Instead, he watched his brothers and cousins and their partners. Despite the heavy burdens on their shoulders, they seemed lighter. Even Patrick. George wasn’t blind. Kieren would be a fine addition to their group if they ever decided to make a go of it—once Kieren let go of his job hangovers when they were all together in private. Patrick needed someone to seehim, other than them, and he believed Kieren did.
Eddie sat beside him, having moved from the other side of Timothy, and placed a kiss on his cheek, whispering, “Are you okay?”
George smiled and nodded, turning his head to kiss him on the lips. “I’m good. I’d love to tease the crap out of Patrick about Kieren, but he’s not ready for that just yet.”
Eddie chuckled and rested his head on George’s shoulder. “Yeah, maybe leave off that for the moment. He has a new career to distract him for now.”
“I don’t think that’s what’s distracting him. If I were to guess—”
Timothy squeezed his hand. “Shh.”
George refocused on the conversation and realised Patrick stared at him with a creased brow. “What’s wrong?” Patrick mouthed.
George smiled. “Nothing,” he mouthed back.
He could tell Patrick didn’t believe him, but he refrained from grinning like a loon. For now, anyway.
George pressed his lips to Eddie’s forehead, then rested his own head on Timothy’s shoulder. He wanted them to be snuggled up in bed where he could wind himself around them and forget about the world outside, but that wasn’t possible. Real life intruded more than he wanted it to, but it was his father’s legacy they were trying to keep alive as well as all the people that were supposed to come after him. George included.
In the dark of the night, where no one could hear him, he told Timothy and Eddie of his wish that they could take things into their own hands and get rid of Aunt Charlotte and Charles, to name two of the people who were causing them harm. He knew it wasn’t “royal” of him to think that way—or even decent of him—but when there was no proof pointing to those theyknewwere responsible, and that was the only way the law would penalise them, it wasn’t the easiest pill to swallow.
They got to try and kill several members of their family and ruin other people’s lives, but because there was nothing to show they were the people who did it, the police could do nothing to help them.
It sucked, to put it politely, and George was sick of it. It burned that they hadn’t brought his mother’s killers to justice and had to let them walk the streets as normal until they could prove it. And if he didn’t have Timothy and Eddie to help him get through those dark nights, he wasn’t sure how he could cope with the knowledge.
But then he remembered the amazing part of his family. Those surrounding him now and those not here, who were working tirelessly to help them in any way they could. If it was at all possible, they would find a way to send that…evil to hell. And George would watch with a grin as it happened.
****
Chapter 11
Kieren
In the past four days, Kieren had noticed a significant change in Patrick’s demeanour. He walked with his head held high, he had a smile ready for those he passed, and he laughed more. But what was most noticeable was the music. It was lighter, happier. If he hadn’t seen the change for himself, he wouldn’t have thought being fired from his father’s firm had been a good thing, but for Patrick, it might have been the best idea anyone had ever had.
Not to mention it had made Kieren’s days less boring. Sitting in an office watching someone else work had never been on his bucket list, but he went where the job took him. Now, Patrick spent more time with his family and his music and was locked away in his room doing something Kieren knew nothing about. Patrick wasn’t forthcoming about it either. When he’d asked, Patrick had just said he was working but had not explained what.
As for Kieren, work had been a bust. At least, the list had been. He’d been through it with a fine-toothed comb, but he couldn’t find whatever had been bugging him. He thought if he saw the numbers in person, it would make something jump out at him, but nothing had. He wouldn’t stop, though. He planned to keep at it because he didn’t want the bad guys to win. They’d already taken too much from the royal family as it was.
Tonight was Friday, and his induction into impact play Patrick had told him. He hadn’t realised that was the collective name for it, but he was learning a lot of new things lately. He’d chosen something simple to wear—black trousers and a black T-shirt—because he wasn’t sure how long they were staying on. The thought of being naked in front of Patrick had him trembling, in a goodandbad way.
Patrick had insisted on driving them, and it hadn’t helped calm Kieren’s nerves. The prince kept up a one-sided conversation all the way to the club and into the foyer, where they signed in with Clarice. When they’d locked everything away and wandered to the conversation room, Kieren was having second thoughts. What if he didn’t like it?
Patrick grabbed two bottles of water from the bartender and led the way to a two-seater sofa on the opposite side of the room. Kieren frowned when Patrick sat and gestured for him to sit next to him.
“Everything okay?” Kieren asked, accepting the water.
“Yes. We need to chat before we go through those doors.”
Kieren swallowed hard. “About what?”
“Our wants, needs, expectations, rules…everything. We need to be crystal clear about our plans before we get into it. If we don’t, emotions and adrenaline can make you choose incorrectly in the heat of the moment.”
“Similar to when you’re protecting someone. You rely on instincts.”
“Yes, but for Doms, we need clear-cut instructions. We need to know exactly what you do and do not want before the scene starts. Once it starts, we can use our instincts to guide us, but we’ll never step over the lines you draw in the sand.”
Kieren nodded. “Sounds fair.” He lifted his knee to rest on the seat to face Patrick. “What do you need to know?” He tapped his fingertips against the bottle.
