“Ohhh, Rafey,” I murmur, reaching for my baby boy as Cora and Roger come into the room. “I’m so sorry, mommy and daddy just needed a minute.”
“Yeah,” Roger says, his smirk deepening. “To talk.” I shrug a little and return his smirk, refusing to let him embarrass me as I carry my baby over to his little changing table and gather the supplies I use when I feed him.
“What happened out there,” Cora says, a little breathless as she presses the door shut and looks around at us, wide-eyed. “I mean – is that…okay? For them to just bring a criminal and an enemy back into the nation?”
“It’s not precisely legal,” Sinclair sighs, waving the group of us forward towards our little living room once I’ve got all my supplies gathered. “But it is complicated, and a very… targeted message that they’re giving to us.
That they’re on Xander’s side in this, agreeing with his policies and his lineage, not mine.”
Together, we troop into the living room and I settle onto the couch as I begin to feed the baby, hoping that he gets as much comfort as I will from the familiar routine.
“Are you two all right?” Roger asks, looking between. me and Sinclair, who settles on the arm of the couch behind me.
“We’re fine,” my mate growls, and Roger smirks a little but nods as he sits in an armchair across from us. Cora looks a little confused, but shrugs, giving up trying to figure it out and sitting in Roger’s lap, clearly wanting to be close. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him.
“All right,” Roger says. “Then what’s our plan on how to retaliate?”
“Unfortunately,” Sinclair sighs, “they’ve played their cards well, bringing Xander here on a diplomatic mission. Because I have to be…perfectly diplomatic this entire weekend, or else I risk not being crowned.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised as I look up at him. “It’s that precarious?”
“These are a King’s duties,” he says, giving a little shrug. “If at the first trial of diplomacy – no matter how large the trial – I rip someone’s throat out? I’d say it’s enough to give any nay-sayers a strong argument for why I should not be the one to lead this nation.”
I sigh, shaking my head and looking down at Rafe, my sweet boy. “So. We have to tolerate him.”
* “I’ll send a message to the Atalaxians that Xander is not welcome at any of the more informal events,” Sinclair murmurs. “But yes, when they gather as a delegation en masse? There’s nothing I can do to prevent him, unless I do want to risk sparking war. Not unless he crosses a line himself.”
“Well?” Roger says, tilting his head a little, curious.”
Can we…provoke him into doing that?”
“Do we want to?” I ask, grimacing a little. “I mean, obviously I don’t know him, but this is a man devious enough to plan to get me pregnant and then steal the child. I don’t think he’s someone we’re going to trick into a faux pau that we can use to kick him out of the palace.”
“Ella’s right,” Sinclair murmurs behind me, and I look up to see him shaking his head and crossing his arms over his broad, muscled chest. Something stirs in me again as I look at him, and Sinclair glances at me, the start of a smile down his lips as he senses my arousal, either through my scent or down the bond
I just shrug a little. I can’t help it. He laughs a little.
“What is with you two,” Cora murmurs, still confused and looking between us.
Roger just laughs and tugs her closer. “Don’t worry about it, Cora,” he murmurs, kissing her neck. “Ill explain it all to you later.”
She sighs, still confused, but gives in.
“It’s unlikely that the Atalaxians are going to do anything to truly provoke war – this was just their gambit, their way of letting us know where they stand.
If we can just…get through the weekend without killing him, they should go away and give us more time to develop a better strategy for getting Xander back and ensuring that he sees justice.”
“Do you think they’ll let him go?” I ask, curious.
“I don’t think that Xander actually means anything special to the Atalaxians,” my mate replies, looking seriously down at me. “I’m securely in power now, and everyone knows that Rafe is my son and heir. If he tries to claim the throne through Rafe…” Sinclair shrugs, implying that it’s pot going to go well, internationally.
I smile at Sinclair, glad to see that my clear-thinking mate has returned, pleased to have been able to play a part in that. And I, too, feel so much clearer now after our little…interlude.
“So, he’s a bargaining chip,” Roger says, nodding, understanding. “They know we want him. Now they want to see what they can get.”
“Well,” Cora says, sitting up a bit straighter, her strategic mind at work. I smile at her, thinking that Cora has probably the best mind for these sorts of games of all of us – except, perhaps, for Henry, who I suddenly wish was here. Cora could have been a champion poker player, I think, had she not picked medicine.
“I think,” Cora continues, “that our best move then is to demonstrate to them that their bargaining chip is actually of very little value to us.”
“And perhaps,” Roger chimes in, nodding his agreement, “keeping an eye on him to see if he does make a misstep.”
“And if he does,” Sinclair growls, a sound of vengeance that makes me smile, “we take him.”
I take a deep, contented breath now, smiling around at my family and down at my baby.
“It’s a good plan,” I murmur, nodding my agreement. “
Now..we just have to put it into action.”
Our little family meeting is unfortunately short-lived.
We spend a few more minutes coming up with the details of a plan, but then the knocks start to come at the door – hairdressers and housekeepers, stylists and party planners. Everyone we’ve asked to come and help us get ready for the evening –
Because that formal greeting? That was just the start of the day.
We’ve got dinner and the afterparty to contend with, which I’m sure will present its own challenges.
We all change – Cora and I into more formal gowns, Roger, Sinclair and Rafe into tuxedoes. I squeal with delight as I dress Rafe in his, even though he sleeps through most of it. But he just looks so cute that I can’t stop staring at him.
Cora laughs, coming to my side and looking down at my little sleeping baby. “Is it going to be all right to take him with us?” she murmurs. “Does he need more sleep?”
“He’s getting used to being a busy royal baby that naps on the go,” I sigh, lifting him up into my arms.” Besides, Conner is coming,” I say with a grin, “to be Rafe’s bodyguard again. And Rafe’s used to sleeping in his arms after all these weeks at the camps.”
“True,” Cora says, giving a little laugh. “I bet Conne
never thought he’d have that title – Royal body guard’ slash traveling crib.”
I laugh along with her, pleased that the mood has changed so much in the two hours since we left the hall where we greeted all of the delegations. But I feel bolstered now, ready for whatever comes next. And as Sinclair comes to my side, I can see that he, too, is steady.
“Ready for dinner?” my mate asks, running a hand down the back of my sparkling silver gown.
“Ready for war, you mean?” I ask, grinning in reply.
Sinclair laughs, dipping his head to kiss me once and giving me a nod. “Come on, private,” he growls, giving me a light smack on the a*s. “Time to move out.”
