Page 23 of Grand Romantic Delusions and the Madness of Mirth, Part Two

M IRTH

“Lord Hereford is not to be disturbed.”

Roz has insisted on accompanying me through the all-but-deserted corridors of the World Council. Well, the offices of the World Council. In Zurich. And my guard now completely blocks me from the view of the assistant standing between me and the next step in letting just a little more of Armin go.

Not that I’m feeling overly dramatic this morning. Not at all.

I slept restlessly, even while comfortably nestled between Sully and Bolan, then took the royal helicopter to Zurich from London after an early breakfast together. Yes, there’s a landing pad on the roof of my apartment building, though I generally avoid using it for the sake of the neighbors.

Along with our royal guards, I also haven’t managed to entirely shake my two bedmates, who insisted on accompanying me.

Even though Sully hates flying by helicopter, and Bolan was supposed to meet with some lawyers about a conflict of interest with his current recording contract.

I left the two of them— accompanied by Greg, of course— wandering the city after we arrived.

Though I don’t expect they’ll stay away for long.

“Lord Hereford’s instructions are explicit.” The assistant stands a little taller, smoothing back her already perfectly smooth, pretty blond hair.

I peek over Roz’s shoulder. Though my guard isn’t much taller than me, she has a talent for occupying all the space she desires.

It might be an intimidation tactic — brought into play because once again, I’ve insisted that she not wear her royal guard uniform.

But I wouldn’t mind being able to emulate it just a little bit more in my everyday life.

“I simply need to pass through the offices,” I say gently. “I’m sure the earl won’t mind —”

“The councilor is a busy man,” the assistant snaps, hands on her slim hips now. “If you need to speak with him, we can make an appointment for next month —”

I step to Roz’s side. My guard is a moment away from giving Lord Hereford’s assistant a little essence-fueled nudge.

The assistant flicks her gaze to me, dismissing me in an instant with a twist of her lips. Granted, Roz does appear to be more intimidating at first glance. But …

The assistant goes very still. Her eyes widen as she slowly returns her gaze to me, as if she’s actually in fear of what her eyes see even as her brain takes a moment to process it. Her face pales.

I offer her a polite smile. Though I don’t remove my sunglasses. I probably should have when we entered the building, just to be polite, but I haven’t slept well, and my head is aching just a little.

My heart is aching just a little.

My soul is aching a little more.

The assistant drops into as deep a curtsy as her pencil skirt allows.

Roz snorts, then tries to cover her inappropriate reaction by clearing her throat.

“I’m not here in an official capacity,” I say, trying to not let Roz’s amusement bleed into my own reaction or tone. “You’re just doing your job.”

She straightens, keeping her gaze downcast. “My … Your Royal Highness … I had no idea —”

“Paying attention to your surroundings might be a smart idea, shifter,” Roz says.

It’s a mild rebuke, but the poor assistant flinches. “The council is not in session, and Lord Hereford doesn’t have anything on his public schedule.”

Roz gives her another once-over, unimpressed. “Then why are you here, Lia? Still sniffing around?”

Lia goes still, wary.

Okay, there’s clearly more going on here than I’m aware of.

But honestly, it’s not my concern. I shouldn’t be surprised that Roz knows Lia, or at least knows of Lia.

The aforementioned Lord Hereford, aka Elias, went through weeks of security background checks, alongside jumping through all the other ridiculous hoops my father dreamed up for the matchmaking event.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I murmur, crossing for the heavy wooden doors that lead into the inner offices. “I know the way.”

“Oh!” Lia cries. “Please don’t touch —”

My hand closes around the carved brass handle, easily passing through the intricate, yet somehow delicate, warding that seals the doors. But the essence-fueled protections don’t collapse under my touch, as per usual. They accept me, accept my essence, instead.

It’s an odd sensation. I’m not certain I’ve ever felt the like.

I turn the handle freely, then push through the door.

Lia gasps behind me.

But my gaze is already tracking across the room, beyond the brown leather and dark wood that fills the seating area to my immediate left, toward the huge desk situated closer to the far windows.

The wood-slat shades are partially open, allowing angled slashes of late-morning light to filter across the all-but-bare bookshelves lining the walls, then play out across the hardwood floor.

But the slim, blond, pale-skinned man rising from behind the desk to greet me isn’t washed out at all. His light-blue eyes blaze, capturing all my attention.

Elias. Lord Hereford. He’s removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie, opened his collar, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

And yes, there is something perfectly scandalous about the amount of skin Lord Hereford is displaying. But then, he didn’t expect a visitor to barge into his office.

Then I notice the sharp-edged weapon, carved purely from light, resting in the palm of his raised hand. Held at the ready, set to stab me through the heart with a mere flick of those slim, perfectly manicured fingers.

Apparently, I didn’t slide through his outer wards as easily as I thought. And he’s not rising to greet me. A strange sort of thrill shivers through me, and I find myself biting back a most inappropriate grin.

Elias’s gaze snaps to my mouth. To my lower lip caught in my teeth.

“Think you can take me?” I say, my voice low and playfully taunting. My own power shivers over me again — I recognize the energy the second time it happens, but it’s still a completely unusual feeling. “My lord?”

I’ve misplaced my brain somewhere, willfully abandoning the polite princess in the outer halls and momentarily forgetting —

Roz’s presence shifts behind me, just beyond the wards I can still feel sealing the doorway. Wariness laces through her voice. “Your Highness?”

Elias’s gaze levels over my shoulder. He raises both of his hands slightly, palms outward and now empty. The weapon constructed out of light has dissipated. At the same time, the wards on the door through which I easily passed fade away.

I glance at Roz with a polite smile.

She grimaces, looking steadily and intently at Elias for a moment. Then she deliberately casts her gaze around the entire office. With a stiff nod to me, she snags the door handle and steps back into the outer hall to pull the door closed.

She’s not going to be pleased that I don’t plan to actually stay within the confines of the office she’s just deemed safe enough to momentarily house me.

Removing my sunglasses, I turn back to Elias. He doesn’t meet my gaze, looking everywhere but at me as he rolls down the cuffs of his shirt.

A sliver of disappointment runs through me. “I don’t mean to disturb you.”

“Not at all.” He retrieves the carefully folded suit jacket slung over the back of his chair, pulling it on. His posture is stiff. “Please forgive me. I have …” He casts his gaze across his paper-strewn desk. “I was deeply focused, and …”

More disappointment etches its way through me at his formal tone. A silly, irrational reaction. We’re not friends or lovers, after all. We barely know each other.

I take a few more steps into the office until I’m standing before the desk. I fold my hands together around my sunglasses, ever so politely. My backpack, the marble urn within it, is oddly heavy across my shoulders, even though the urn is two handfuls lighter than it had been.

Elias straightens his tie, then taps the screen of his phone to check for recent messages.

Such as the one I should have sent before assuming I could just pop in. I … I should have expected that he’d be in his own office. But I hadn’t.

After another glance at the piles of paperwork on his desk, his fingers twitching as if he wants to tidy them, he finally raises his gaze to meet mine.

Light-blue eyes to violet.

The tips of his ears are slightly pink.

I’ve misunderstood his reaction to my arrival. He’s … embarrassed? Under all the composure, all the formality. But why would me showing up unannounced be embarrassing?

Roz’s comment about Lia still sniffing around comes back to me. And I click it all together, though perhaps a little haphazardly.

I really have interrupted Elias. Or caught him in the middle of doing something he … something private? Maybe his state of undress wasn’t just the earl making himself comfortable? Maybe Lia’s presence … was …

“I’m sorry, my lord,” I say, my own cheeks flaming. “I should have known these were your offices now that you’re occupying your familial council seat. I truly didn’t mean to interrupt. I thought I could slip in and out.”

Elias blinks rapidly. “You aren’t here to see me? Ah, I mean, you could never be an interruption, Your Highness. It’s always a pleasure …”

He swallows.

Possibly because I’m just staring at him.

My odd sense of disappointment is now all riled up and warring with the embarrassment.

I pointedly don’t glance down at the papers.

Just in case it’s whatever he’s working on, and not just Lia’s presence, that he’s embarrassed for me to witness.

I would have thought the guard on the main doors would have announced us …

perhaps that was why Lia was in the outer hall? Answering the phone?

No. She seemed genuinely shocked by my presence.

Elias tries again. “I was hoping that I could meet you for … lunch sometime this week, Your Highness.”

“Lunch, my lord?” My voice is more thin than politely reserved.

Elias glances down at his phone again.