Page 17 of Royal Agenda

Sean stopped chewing. “Wait for Liam,” he managed around a mouthful of cheese and bread. “He had the latest info.”

Ryker ground his teeth. He needed a moment to take the hot burn of possessiveness from atomic levels to a low simmer. He barely had enough time before the warehouse door opened and closed. He watched the office entrance, and soon the American Scot’s large frame filled the doorway.

Sean pointed to Ryker. “He needs an update.”

“Food first.” Liam spied the pizza and made a beeline for it. Flicking the top box aside, he dug into the ham and pineapple concoction. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sweet and spicy combination.

Ryker waited. Diplomacy was in his blood. Allowing for awkward pauses was part of his upbringing. Not just as a prince who would not inherit the throne, but between his parents and at private family gatherings. Madre and Padre were not Romeo and Juliet, and he often wondered how they managed to get along long enough to create three offspring.

“Okay.” Liam licked the sauce off his thumb.

Ryker sighed and reached for the paper towels. He tore one off and handed it to Liam. One day, this batch of ruffians would be tamed by table manners. He was not sure how it would happen, especially if he continually supplied the pizza.

“Your uncle is a real piece of work,” Liam started.

“We have established that,” Ryker replied, his royal way of saying get to the point.

“Repeatedly,” added Sean.

Liam lifted a shoulder and reached for another slice. “Last winter, Prince Zeno exposed his father’s plot to remove the king.” He sliced his finger along his throat. “But, apparently, your uncle didn’t put all his eggs in that basket.”

Ryker adjusted his posture, a move to protect himself against the news. Not only did his parents not get along, his father and brothers behaved like children fighting over a toy. To be fair, his father did not join in the fight so much as turn a blind eye to his older brother’s arguments. Angelo, his cousin, had been crowned several years ago. It was a political move that was supposed to end the feud over the kingship. It did not. Ryker’s zio only became more obsessed, and his actions became those of a desperate man. Desperate, connected, and ruthless, Tio was a formidable foe. His children, Zeno and two daughters had nothing to do with him in private and barely tolerated being in the same room with him at public events.

But they were not here to rehash the family drama that would rival any American soap opera. He motioned to Liam. “Go on.”

Liam scowled. “Don’t get all princely on me. Trust me, you won’t like it if you do.”

Ryker lowered his chin and growled, wondering why Liam always seemed to have an issue with princes. “How many times do I have to tell you? I cannot stop being a principe any more than you can stop being obstinate.”

“I think last time you said he couldn’t stop being annoying,” Sean clarified.

“And the time before that, it was taxing,” added Liam. He pulled off a piece of ham, tipped his head back, and dropped it into his mouth.

Ryker did not want to get into the round-and-round argument at the moment. “Are you going to tell me about my zio, or do I need to google it?”

Liam scoffed. “Like you could find this info on Google.”

Ryker pinned him with a look as he pulled out his phone, ready to ignore the insufferable man until he spilled the information.

Liam huffed. “You can’t. So I’ll tell you. Your sisters are both safe. They’re sticking close to the Winter Palace, working to stimulate the local economy and restore the palace with your cousin-in-law, the architect. The whole thing looks like a royal project and a half, but we think there’s more going on.”

“Why?”

Liam swallowed and reached for the paper towels. “Zeno and his group of mercenary guards are there.” He swiped his mouth and cleaned his fingers before reaching for another slice.

Ryker pondered the information. “Zeno is married now and has therefore reduced his military involvement.” That was not to say Zeno was not lethal on many levels.

Avery, the American architect who tamed the wild Pincipe Zeno, was sweet and good for him. He needed someone with a softer side to buffer his flair for danger and dramatics. He was a ghost soldier. The kind who took missions no one else wanted to take because the survival rate was too low. The soldiers in his squad were fearless and respected even by the two men in this room—which said a lot. “I suspect he will retire from service soon.” Zeno never planned to marry. His sister was the same way. She’d joined the military and committed her heart to serving her country.

“The family isn’t sharing why they're slowly gathering at the Palace or staying for so long. It feels like a safety-in-numbers kind of thing. Like the ghost soldiers are keeping an eye on the princesses.” Liam went for the third type of pizza: chicken, bacon, and barbecue.

“It could also be, with my supposed death, they are pulling together to grieve,” Ryker added. He’d been close to his sisters, never going a day without talking to them. Christmas in Isola de la Famiglia was like a dream, and he missed his family terribly.

“Possible,” Sean consented, moving on to his second pizza sandwich–one slice of the BBQ chicken and one of pineapple. Americans! “But we’d like to know what’s happening inside, and no one is talking.”

“On another note . . .” Liam paused to chew and swallow. “You’ve taken on a sort of Anestasia-ness. There’s rumors that you’re still out there—biding your time to return and take over the country.” Liam tossed his uneaten crust into the box.

“Ridiculous,” Ryker scoffed.

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