Page 21 of Steinbeck (The Minnesota Kingstons #5)

“Thanks for the history lesson. I’m not going to be haunted by the voices of old prisoners, am I?”

“The view from the cells is worth it.” Shep smiled and opened the double oak door.

They entered another room, this one expansive, with plush white carpet, two dark-blue velvet sofas, and a polished-stone coffee table.

Along one wall ran a dark mahogany table with chairs for twelve, and a built-in buffet stocked with white china.

The other wall held a number of television flatscreens.

But the view ahead caught Steinbeck—the oversized French doors leading to a balcony that overlooked the town, the river, and the snowcapped mountains.

“Offices are to the right, guest rooms to the left.” Shep pointed down a hallway. “You’re in the first on the right, facing the view.”

“Is Emberly staying here too?”

“Last door on the end, facing town.”

“I’m grabbing a shower.”

“I have a better idea. Drop your gear—I’ll meet you here in five.”

“As long as it involves food.”

“Trust me.”

Stein dropped his backpack on the bed of a room that rivaled the King’s Inn and headed back to the lobby.

Shep waited with a couple towels and tossed him one.

They took the elevator back down and got off one level above the garage, a tunnel burrowed through the stone. Electric lanterns lit a pathway, splashing luminescence on the rock, an eerie walk back in time.

It felt like Stein was back in the dungeon in Portugal. Which only made him think about Emberly. Maybe he shouldn’t have left her on the tarmac.

“Welcome to the private hot springs of the royal family,” Shep said. They strolled along the corridor until it opened to a cavern, more lights bathing a series of steamy pools.

“There’s also a cold plunge—” Shep pointed to a man-made grotto. “And a sauna.” A glass-walled room with wooden planks was built into the side of the mountain.

“This is...”

“A perk of being one of the Cobs.”

“Cobs?”

“They’re male swans. I’m not a fan of the term either.” Shep opened a wooden door and entered a dressing room. Handed Stein a bathrobe. “It’s coed, but I reserved it for us for an hour.”

Stein showered, then donned the robe and found Shep in the sauna, already sweating.

The hot air caught his breath, filled his lungs. He climbed onto the wooden bench. “So... what—you’re arm candy?”

Shep laughed. “No.” He picked up a ladle and splashed water on some rocks, bathing them in steam. “London is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. But more than that, she’s got a lot on her shoulders. Unfinished business with the Petrov Bratva. And someone needs to watch her back.”

“That’s you?”

“I’m not... I wasn’t a SEAL. But I do know how to spot an oncoming avalanche.” He glanced over at Stein. “There’s a Bible passage that says ‘Two are better than one... If either of them falls down, one can help the other up... Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.’”

“‘A cord of three strands is not easily broken,’” said Stein. “I know those verses.”

“London is one. God is the second. I’m the third.”

“You don’t mind sitting on the sidelines?”

“Someone has to watch the field.”

The door opened and a man walked in.

Shep started to get up, but the man held up a hand and Shep sat back down.

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.” The man bore a hint of a European accent, maybe a layer of Italian thrown in. “I heard you were back.”

“Got in last night, sir,” Shep said. He gestured to Stein. “This is Steinbeck Kingston. He came in with one of the Swans. Stein, meet His Royal Highness, the crown prince of the House of Ribaldi, Prince Luka of Montelena.”

“Well done, Shep.” The prince turned to Stein. “Luka will be fine.”

“Do I... bow?”

“You’re in your bathrobe. My thought is probably not.” Luka grinned. Square chin with a cleft, blue eyes, confidence in his smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about the Montelena royal family.”

“We’re a small but sturdy lot,” Luka said. “My father, King Max, is on the throne, and my mother, Queen Isabella, is from the royal family of Montenegro, a country in the Balkans.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s located across from Italy, on the Adriatic Sea, part of Serbia-Croatia for many years. Beautiful country. We vacation there.”

Right. To get away from the big city of Luciella.

Luka might have read his mind because—“We’re really quite normal.

My youngest brother, Alrick, is at uni, twenty-one, still figuring out that a major in medieval studies has no practical future.

My youngest sister, Madeline, is our fiery redhead and is fighting tradition by joining the military.

She’s completely obsessed with Hannibal and his march over the Alps with war elephants.

We’re a part of NATO, but we have a small but fierce security force. I think she wants to be a commander.”

He shrugged. “We’ll see. My father is fairly open-minded. There are no arranged marriages anymore, although we still have to marry inside royal circles.” He sighed. “Hard to do when everyone is a cousin.” He glanced at Shep.

They exchanged a look that Steinbeck couldn’t read.

“I have a brother, Rillian, who is a chopper pilot a couple of years older than Maddy. He’s testing my father’s patience regarding the aforementioned law.” He smiled.

Shep chuckled.

“The one with her head on her shoulders and most likely to change the world is my oldest little sister, Victoria. She’s next in line after me, and just finished her surgical residency in Paris. She’s headed back to Queen Grace Hospital to join the staff here.”

He leaned back, his head against the wall. “And then there’s me. Just... the crown prince. Standing at the ready.”

“Cry me a river,” Shep said. He glanced over at Stein. “Prince Luka is heavily involved in the running of Montelena.”

Luka glanced at Shep, grinned. “Indeed. Just because my life’s purpose is to wait doesn’t mean my days aren’t filled with duty.”

He looked at Steinbeck. “What do you do?”

“He’s working with one of our Swans.”

“I see. Well, good luck to you, mate. Not a job for the faint of heart.” He laughed, glanced at Shep. “Although enviable, perhaps.” He slid off the bench. “The cold plunge is calling.”

It was calling Steinbeck too. He followed the prince out and waited in the clammy cave as the man dropped into the cold bath, came out with a growl.

Stein did the same, and the chill flushed away the fatigue in his bones.

“Ready for a pig’s knuckle?” Shep said, rising from the dunk.

“Promises, promises,” Stein said.

Another shower and an hour later and he sat in a restaurant in the hotel, a red votive candle flickering on the table, the scent of roasting pork and frothy beer embedding the stone walls and wooden floor.

He could imagine knights of the realm eating under the wrought-iron chandeliers that hung from ceiling timbers.

He groaned as he set down the thick roasted pork knuckle.

“Told you,” Shep said. He pushed the glistening thick-cut fries in a basket toward Stein. “And these are the real deal.”

“I have them brought to the palace sometimes,” Prince Luka said, sitting across from them in an oxford and a pair of dress pants. He’d rolled up his sleeves.

Stein had changed into a pullover and pants that he’d picked up at the airport in Porto.

“So, what’s next for you, Stein?” Luka swam his fry through the ketchup—homemade, Stein guessed, because it was thick and dark and spicy.

“He’s working the Petrov op,” said Shep. “Helped bring in the Axiom program. They’re working on a virus.”

Stein glanced at Shep, then at Luka.

“In trade for the Swans parking their HQ here, I’m briefed regularly by London’s mother, Ambassador Brooks, and especially her father, Mitch.” He took a drink of his craft beer. “What’s our next move?”

“Nothing,” Stein said. “It’s over. We found Axiom. They’re creating the virus.” He lifted a shoulder. “I guess I’m going home.”

Silence. He hadn’t meant for that to sound so pitiful.

Luka raised an eyebrow, glanced at Shep, back at Stein. “What about your Swan?”

Stein frowned. “What about... my Swan?”

“Swans work alone. Until they don’t.” Luka glanced again at Shep. “He doesn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Swans mate for life,” Shep said quietly.

A beat. “What?”

“Yeah. Clearly you know more than you should, so...”

“So it’s either stay or I’m shot at high noon?”

“We like to schedule our executions early. Say, dawn,” Prince Luka said.

Another beat. “You’re kidding.”

Shep nodded and Luka made a face. “We had him. You can’t fold that easily, mate.”

Stein shook his head. Except, for a second, a terrible, burning second?—

“But we’re also serious.”

“About the execution?”

“About... well, Phoenix has never had a partner. Until now.”

“We’re not partners.”

Shep looked at him.

“We’re... we...” Stein reached for a fry. “She’s just, you know, a force to be reckoned with. And gets in over her head. And I’m not even sure how I got here?—”

“You’re in love with her, mate.” Prince Luka, staring at him over his golden beer.

Stein met his gaze. Opened his mouth. Closed it. “She doesn’t have room for me in her life. She’s made that pretty clear. And she’s not leaving this life either.”

“Have you told her how you feel?”

In the silence, he heard his own pitiful voice. “Maybe we can figure out how to get past survival together?”

“I think, by the look on his face,” Shep said, “he’s just figuring that out.”

Stein sighed. “It’s not so much how I feel, but... like I said?—”

“There’s no room for you in her life.” Prince Luka finished his drink. Pushed away his basket of bones. “I don’t think that’s the real problem here, mate.”

Stein folded his arms.