Page 22

TWENTY-TWO

I lost her to the flowers.

After we finished our critical shopping, I texted Steven, who was in charge of the outing, with a request to take us to the public rose gardens not far from the palace. The instant we stepped out of the vehicle and Madelyn realized where we were, she bloomed. Delight transformed her into a woman I could watch all day without any care for the passage of time.

Then, in an effort to make it clear I wanted her to be happy, I dug out my new camera and the lens I’d been told was the best for photographing flowers artistically, and I offered it to her along with two spare batteries. “I got one of those little cameras you picked out for myself, and I want to try using that one here, so why don’t you use this one?”

She accepted the camera with wide eyes, murmured a thanks, and within five minutes, I lost her to the flowers.

Rather than pay any attention to the roses, I photographed her enjoyment of the detour.

Steven stuck close, and I almost pitied the empath, who had gotten saddled with being in charge as Alfred held down the fort at the palace, Terry waged war against the pregnancy hormones destined to turn his life into an adventure until his wife and his queen gave birth, and Monty contended with a woman capable of defending herself even against a team of RPS agents.

Marcus was likely somewhere around the palace helping out, but thus far, he’d done an admirable job of dodging me, likely afraid of adding to my various childhood traumas. Like Monty, Marcus had been one of the kinder agents, but he’d worked with my parents, and it would take time—and therapy—to get beyond my past.

In good news for us all, neither Monty nor Marcus minded when I struggled to accept how times had changed.

“I probably deserve some scenarios for this,” I whispered to him once confident Madelyn couldn’t hear me. “I know this entire garden is a nightmarish security gap.”

“It’s good practice for us, and it’s an excellent and calming activity for you and your bond. As you do not have an open bond yet, she is absolutely thrilled you loaned her your camera. Good call on telling her you wanted to play with your other one. Once you said you just preferred the one you’re using, she relaxed—and she was delighted you picked the same one she had gotten. It’s a good camera, and I suspect she feels nothing cheap is good enough for a royal.”

“Hopefully, she understands that’s not the case when we were in the art store.” I crossed my eyes over that portion of the venture, which had resulted in Madelyn suffering from copious amounts of anxiety, as she couldn’t decide which art kit she wanted. I’d selected five different kits for her, told her the ones she didn’t prefer would be available for the children to play with if they wanted to get into art, and promised we could come back so she could better pick supplies later. “I hope I hadn’t come across as terribly impatient.”

“Picking from different brands across different price points was an excellent move. You acknowledged her points about the brands, and you picked the ones she had most interest in. We did, however, acquire the expensive kit we know she lusted for, but you had no way of knowing she lusted for, as she refused to even look at it. That will be going to California with us, and you can steal the credit for it. It’s the premier brand for watercolors, and frankly spoken, we cried looking at the price. We will show you how to find the premier brands, so you can be honest when you say you wanted her to have the best. But the price is horrific.”

“Please define horrific for me.”

“A set of a hundred colors, accessories, brushes, and paper cost a thousand dollars.”

I whistled. “I’m going to be honest and tell her I asked for someone to get her the best, as that is what I would do, and I’m going to suggest she use the cheaper kits for general practice and the good stuff for when she wants to paint something special. That might save me. Dare I ask what you got for me? Because I know you RPS agents—you got something for me.”

“We got you cheap watercolors and a coloring book. That will amuse her and give you something to do if she wants to paint and you don’t want to deal with modeling clay. You got good entry level supplies for your new craft, so we decided to have some fun at your expense.”

I laughed. “Will the RPS cry if I ask someone to go back to that store and make a few extra purchases?”

“Of course not. What do you need?”

If I was going to go all in on Madelyn and the girls, I would go all in. “Get me one of those ridiculously expensive watercolor sets should they have a second one, get a pair of the best colored pencil sets they have, paper for sketching, and then grab a cart and go through the entire store and get four entry level kits of every damned craft they have in there. The ones that aren’t currently age appropriate for Danielle we’ll hold on to until she’s old enough to handle them. But let’s stock the palace with a complete set of crafts. If you need storage space, make use of my junkyard where I was storing the computer components. Talk around the RPS and find the parents with kids Danielle’s age and send them to my suite to scold me on excess and to help me select the best crafts for the trip. I’d rather not add that sort of venture while in California.”

Steven smiled. “Your wish is our command, Ian. You might be new to being a father, but you have the right idea. The greatest gifts any parent can give to their child is their love and their time. You’ll figure out the rest as you go. Now, you let us handle that. You keep an eye on your woman, else we might lose her to the roses.”

“Let her be lost for a while. She could use the peace, because mark my words, none of us are getting any peace starting tomorrow.”

“I hate how right you are,” the RPS agent muttered before stepping aside to arrange for what I needed to survive a triple dose of crafty ladies in my household.

* * *

We spent three hours in the rose garden before Steven warned me the girls were showing signs of waking up and we needed to return to the palace. Fortunately for my sanity, I was able to rein Madelyn in with a sole comment that the girls might take over the kingdom if left unsupervised. I strolled into my bedroom in time to witness a sleepy May sit upright and blink, working to comprehend where she was.

“Good afternoon,” I greeted before giving her a kiss on her forehead. Then I began the process of waking the tigers, which involved hearty slaps to their rumps, cooing, kisses to their noses, and otherwise convincing the beasts I loved them best. Madelyn’s cats got ear scratches and pettings, and Angel got a kiss to his nose, ruffled fur, and an order to get back to work and check on my sister.

The husky warbled complaints but did as told, bounding out of the room, howling to be let out so he could attend to his duties.

Once everyone except Danielle was awake, I began the tedious process of rousing the toddler. With how her parents had behaved and her tendency to wake crying from fear, the last thing I wanted to do was shake her or do anything physical that might evoke old memories and trauma.

It took some time, but calling her name and stroking her hair got the job done. Before she could start to cry, I scooped her up and settled her against me, cooing and rocking her in the hopes the changed routine would distract her. To my relief and delight, it worked, and rather than deal with lengthy sobbing, she giggled, wrapped her arms around my neck, and held on tight.

“We’re going on a little adventure today after we have a meal,” I announced.

May regarded me with wide eyes. “A trip?”

“As I noticed you like playing with animals, and you were able to treat my sister’s tigers, her dog, and Madelyn’s cats with care and respect, we are going to be visiting an animal shelter to rescue a few pets for you. They will be your responsibility, and you will have help with their care. Your pets will live in your suite with you and keep you company at night, so you’re going to have to teach them that they’re loved, okay?”

Danielle gasped. “Kitty?”

“Yes, I will be taking you to meet some kitties.” I might regret it, but I’d introduce them to some puppies, too.

If we came across a dog that might work as a service animal, I’d rescue first and train later.

I foresaw the New York Royal Family needing more than a few service animals in the upcoming years. And if I ended up with suites filled with trauma in need of love, I would deal with the consequences.

As long as the girls and the animals were all safe and happy, that was all I cared about.

I bounced Danielle some more, and to keep them relaxed, I said, “You’ll have your snack in your pajamas, and then we’ll get you both changed and go on our trip. You’ll get bubble baths tonight, and you’ll start learning how to care for your new pets.”

Rather than relax them, the idea they might have pets drove them into a frenzy, which made the process of herding them to the family dining room rather challenging. As I’d already captured Danielle, I dealt with her bouncing, squealing, and losing her mind over the idea of a trip and something furry to cuddle with at night.

May ran in circles, jumped around, and otherwise reminded me that I had no chance of matching little girls in the energy department. Fortunately for my sanity, she recognized she needed me to get what she wanted, a kitty of her own.

Either she had missed my comment about them each getting two kitties or hadn’t been taught anything about numbers.

I worried I dealt with a little girl who had no concept of math, something I would have to correct in a hurry.

After making it only a few doors down, Madelyn swooped in, caught May, spun the girl around, and held her upside down for a moment, evoking a storm of giggles and squeals. Once thus contained, the woman somehow managed to put her down, keep a hold on her hand, and tame the beast, at least long enough for us to make it to the family dining room without incident. Once at the table, the girls calmed enough I could leave them with Madelyn and fetch their snack, which would be yet another serving of soup and protein shakes until we could adapt them to solid foods.

Vincent laughed at me. “They’re running you ragged, aren’t they?”

“I made the mistake of informing them they would be getting kitties. They’ve been playing and sleeping with the tigers and Madelyn’s cats all day, and as nobody got hurt, everyone was respectful, and the girls seem to love cats, I made the decision to get them two each to help them settle. I’m also going to grab every last puppy that might meet the requirements to become a service dog while there.”

“I’ll warn the RPS they’ll need to bring a van and send over the police trainer.”

“A police trainer?” I asked, furrowing my brows. “I want support for the girls, not takedown artists.”

“The police trainer in question trains service dogs, and she can help you pick the puppies and start working with them. I’ll brief her on what happened to the girls. Expect a K-9 ‘service’ dog or two from the retiring pooches from this year. They can’t work on the force anymore, but some of them absolutely are suitable to serve as guard dogs and service animals. I’ll take care of it. The RPS could use some dogs, too. We’ll just have to make sure the dogs are suitable for working with kids.”

“I had no idea the RPS worked with dogs.”

“They’re usually bomb sniffers, but New York has special needs.”

No kidding. “All right. I don’t suppose the soup for today has any calming ingredients?”

“I’m afraid not. We’ve made a beef noodle soup with larger pieces of vegetables today, and we overcooked the vegetables in case they have problems with their teeth. Expect trouble. You’ll need to remind them they have to chew their food, as they’re used to minimal chewing before swallowing. I requested that the RPS put agents good at choking intervention to be present in case of issues.”

I chilled at the thought of either girl choking on their meal. “Is that really a possibility?”

“Ian, your parents were irredeemable assholes. You know it, I know it—anyone who has ever met them knows it. But what those so-called parents did to these little girls goes so far beyond what happened to you that I struggle to comprehend it. You’re going to have to teach them how to eat properly, you’re going to teach them what a good diet is, and you’re going to have to be on guard against eating disorders. Dr. Stanton is already looking into a therapist for them, but we’ve been given instructions on how to do the food introductions. You’re going to likely have upset stomachs tonight because we’re introducing so many new foods to them—and they won’t tell you that their stomachs hurt because they’re going to be afraid they won’t get their next meal because of it.”

“Why is killing their parents illegal?” I complained.

Vincent patted my shoulder. “We’ve all had the same thoughts. So, in good news, there’s a lot of beef in this soup, and if they like it and eat the whole thing, they’ll be sleepy enough you’ll be able to take them to the shelter and get through it without them being huge balls of energy. I’ve already been told the RPS plans on having constant monitoring in their bedrooms to make sure the animals and the children are all safe, and this will be the norm for at least six months. Danielle will continue to have constant monitoring, in the form of camera supervision, until she’s five.”

“I see you went through a lot of briefing.”

Vincent chuckled, guided me to one of the stoves, and began ladling servings of soup. “Monty, Marcus, and Albert came by about an hour ago, as you’ve been relaxed in the kitchen. They want to keep you steady, and that means having these talks where you’re comfortable. Right now, that’s in the kitchen.”

Interesting. After a moment or two of thought, I accepted the man was right—and appreciated how the RPS handled the situation. “That makes sense. It also keeps the girls from overhearing us.”

“Exactly. If they don’t like beef, we have other soups ready to go. What isn’t eaten will go into the freezer for your late night adventures. Your sister has informed me all heads in the kitchen roll if we don’t feed you honeyed salmon tonight. Dr. Stanton approved giving the girls a small serving to try it but to have soup prepared. There will be a herd of physicians on hand with allergy medications in case fish is an issue.”

“How likely is it that allergies will be an issue?”

“It’s unlikely. Dr. Stanton requested that the girls have allergy blood panels done, and they came back negative for everything, but she isn’t sure they’ve had any exposure due to their poor diet. As such, they’ll be on hand for the introduction of both fish and shellfish tonight. We’re also going to introduce peanuts and the other common allergens.”

“Are you sure it’s illegal to kill those bastards?” I grumbled.

“I’m sure. Grab a bowl for yourself, and I’m expecting you to eat two plus two protein shakes. I know you well enough that you’re going to be throwing yourself at the mud run again tonight since you melted through your entire stock of metals.”

“Would anyone really notice if they disappeared without a trace because I found them in a dark alley?” I sighed, grabbed one of the larger bowls meant for salads, and filled it with enough soup to appease the chef. “I’d be doing the world a favor.”

“You know that, I know that, but apparently, they have rights because they’re humans.”

“Are they, though? Could any actual human do something that cruel to two sweet little girls?” I shook my head and followed Vincent out of the kitchen. “With luck, neither of those humans step foot outside of prison ever again. That way, I won’t have to think about the ethics of murdering them in a dark alley.”

“Just think about it this way; if they come within fifty feet of those girls outside the courthouse, it’s no longer illegal to murder them. There’s a restraining order, and due to the severity and nature of their injuries, lethal force is permissible. You just can’t lure them into coming near the girls, not that you would anyway.”

I wouldn’t, as I wouldn’t want either Danielle or May to remember the day I used my talent to make certain their parents never hit them again. “Do request that the restraining order includes an exemption to kill them on sight should they step foot onto land owned by the royal family or any RPS agents in the kingdom. There is no reason for them to be in such places, and it will be assumed they are after the girls should they do so.”

“I’ll ask, but no promises.”

Asking would have to be good enough, at least for now.