The Prince of New York: Royal States, #11

By Susan Copperfield

His Royal Highness Prince Ian Ambrose of New York longed to fade into the background and vanish following the supposed deaths of his parents and the rise of his sister to Queen of New York. While serving as his sister's advisor creates trouble, it also allows him to turn trash into treasures in his junkyard.

 

Upon his sister's primary RPS agent discovering his task force had dropped the ball, Ian is thrust back into the center of politics. To complicate matters, the one woman his heart desires is assigned to keep him organized and on the straight and narrow. Between Madeline's determination and drive to serve his sister and a trip to California, he'll be tested like never before.

 

But when whispered rumors of his parents' return from the grave reach him, Ian will have to push himself to the limits of his wits, his sanity, and his talent.

 

Should he fail, he'll lose his sister and the love of his life along with his kingdom.

 

Warning: this novel contains difficult subject matter. Read at your own discretion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pen & Page Publishing
• Release date: May 16, 2025
• ISBN: 9781649641472

Book preview

ONE

If they do that, the tigers will surely want to help.

The head of my sister’s detail stormed through the palace, and I halted, my eyes widening at the man’s disheveled state. His suit would be retired; magic might be able to repair the tears, but the bloodstains and mud would be a challenge to remove. He marched with the determination of someone on a mission, and I worried for anyone foolish enough to get in his way. Terry?

The RPS agent halted, focusing on me. Your Royal Highness.

Somehow, I kept from flinching over the reminder I would inherit New York should anything happen to my sister before she had children with Ethan. I focused on his appearance to calm my anxiety over the possibility of ruling a kingdom I didn’t want.

Riding incident? A fight with my sister’s tigers? A hundred possibilities rattled around in my head, and I regretted my decision to come to the palace to do some work for the kingdom.

I should have stayed at home and salvaged what metal and materials I could from my junkyard.

Sighing, I asked, Do I want to know what happened?

My queen wishes to do a mud run. As she has some sense, she decided she wanted to see what was involved first. As I have ‘been slacking’ and ‘could use some exercise after my vacation,’ I was ordered to participate in the course the RPS set up in the yard. Terry regarded his suit with a dismayed expression. I believe the RPS was attempting to discourage our queen. If I emerged from their course barely intact, perhaps she might change her mind about participation. All we did was motivate her. She believes I enjoyed myself.

You look like you barely survived a murder attempt that happened to take place in a muddy field. Aware the RPS agent had recently recovered from having been snatched from the palace grounds, an illness, and a rather haphazard adventure across Texas with his Montana princess, I worried a chill might put him back on the injured roster. There were rumors that the Texan RPS, with help from the Mexican RPS, had subjected the man to a living hell as part of his physical therapy. Reaching out, I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead, determining the mud had dropped his body temperature a disconcerting degree.

Concentrating, I focused on his clothes, warming everything up so his core body temperature would have a chance to rise. That working should last until you are in your room and have a chance to shower. Soak in the tub and get yourself warm. If you’re on duty, I’ll go make myself useful until you’re fit to return without running a risk of catching your death.

Fortunately, they took me off duty at the start of the course. Thank you, Ian.

I recognized the moment the agent had lost his last fuck and needed some normalcy in his life. Chuckling, I patted his shoulder, ignoring the filth that transferred to my hand. How’d you do on the course?

I survived and reached the end without having to skip any of the obstacles. I fear the royal physicians might use it for Rachel’s physical therapy. If they do that, the tigers will surely want to help. According to the agent’s expression, he’d thought of several more disturbing options. Bathing them would be good exercise, but she will inevitably become exhausted trying that course. I’m exhausted, Ian.

You were also ill, I reminded him. And while you likely enjoyed running around Texas like some unchecked hooligan once they stopped torturing you, that was hardly restful. Then you had the scenario against the Texans. You did New York proud on that. Great work.

I destroyed the palace’s electrical systems pulling it off, Terry muttered, bowing his head. I got carried away.

I laughed, well aware his Montana princess held the full blame for his performance.

By taking out Jessica, he’d gotten his hands on Olivia, his true target. The tables had quickly turned, and the princess had taken the RPS hostage while the Texan queen had bought the pair time. Olivia had refused to let him out of her sight until confident she’d secured the man as hers.

It amazed me that the RPS agent had escaped his Montana princess long enough to get any work done.

As my sister would lose her mind if Terry became ill again, I gave his back another pat and herded him along. I’ll try to remind my sister to take it a little easier on you. Who is acting as her detail lead right now?

Monty, Terry replied. Rachel doesn’t mind him, although she doesn’t fully trust him yet. This should be good for team unity.

I wrinkled my nose. While I didn’t have anything against Monty for being one of the original New York RPS agents in service of my parents, I also lacked even a scrap of the faith my sister displayed. I blamed her variant of empathy.

She somehow found the good in people and capitalized on it for her benefit. People liked to claim I had empathy as well, but I hesitated to believe it.

Then there was Marcus, who was in the same shoes as Monty, but he did his best to avoid me due to my unfortunate tendency to grimace when we crossed paths.

I tried to undo the damage my parents had done, and that meant going out and helping other kingdoms whenever they had a problem. The whispers about my work bothered me.

Everyone always acted like New Yorkers lacked heart. Most viewed us as greedy, and it went downhill from there.

Nobody realized we’d struggled to survive. In some ways, we still did.

I’ll talk to your therapist, Terry warned.

Damned empaths. I was thinking about how my sister keeps managing to figure out who can be trusted. Her empathy is weird.

Her empathy is exactly what it needs to be for her peace of mind. Don’t beat yourself up over something that isn’t your fault, Ian. Have you been going to your lessons?

The mention of my lessons, such as they were, served as a reminder of a second reason I’d come to the palace to learn my teacher had been called away due to an emergency. Put in a good word for me when Carrie is back. I showed up. Had I been wise, I would have checked my calendar.

I’d gotten so used to showing up for my empathy lessons I’d operated on autopilot.

I’ll make sure she knows you intended to show up for your lessons, Terry promised. When are you headed back to your place?

I’ll swing by to see my sister before escaping. And before you ask, I didn’t even have any agents hovering today. I think they’ve given up all hope.

The RPS agent lifted a hand to his temple and rubbed, likely attempting to ward away the headache my words induced. When was a last time a pair showed up at your place?

The last thing I needed was Terry involving himself in my business, but the man would verify my every word if he felt there was a need. As such, I could think of a reply that might convince him my agents were doing parts of their job. My apartment or the junkyard?

I’ll accept either.

If he checked my record, he’d discover I played down the situation—assuming my agents were recording everything accurately. It’s been a while. I can take care of myself, and they’re bored out of their minds. They asked to be transferred.

In reality, I didn’t even know who the head of my detail was anymore; I’d gone through six in the past few years. I only had myself to blame; I’d sent my best agents to North Dakota to help the monarchs recover from their kingdom’s civil war. Losing my best agents had begun the snowball.

I figured the current batch of agents had good reason to dislike me.

I’ll take care of it. Do you even have an aide right now?

No. After Sylvia’s death, I’d changed in more ways than one, and I’d taken to handling as much as possible on my own. While my sister made use of me at every opportunity, the reality of the situation bothered me.

She rarely needed me.

The people loved her, as did the monarchs of most kingdoms. Within a few years, I expected New York would gain a solid position and reputation within the Royal States. I would fade into obscurity, which I accepted readily enough.

I lacked a purpose, and once I found something to do with myself, things would improve.

I’ll take care of it. I’m glad you’re here, actually. Rachel wanted to talk to you about a political issue. She needs someone to head a project, and she’s hoping that you’ll take on the work. She’s already put together an aide staff for you. When you aren’t traveling on her behalf, it would require you to be in the palace five days a week, but you can pick whatever suite you want. She is of the opinion you’d rather not make use of your old rooms.

That counted as an understatement. I can drive in, and when I don’t drive in, I’ll use the suite I like in the dignitaries’ wing. The suite was new, I had no idea what my sister planned for it, but I’d claimed it the instant I had stumbled upon it.

If I left home early and waited until after rush hour, the drive wouldn’t cost me my sanity—and I could catch a nap in the staff quarters if needed. While Terry meant well, I doubted the situation with the RPS would improve, most of the palace staff hated me for one reason or another, and I would rather be in the comfort of my apartment at the cost of dealing with a commute.

Terry sighed. Don’t you want to know what the assignment is?

Not particularly. If she needs help with a project, I’ll help her with the project. Just send me the schedule. If I’m going to be working at the palace, I need to go handle some things at home.

First, I would go into the junkyard and find something to smash. Once I tired myself out, I would head home, dig through my closet, and figure out which suits still fit me. With luck, nothing would need to be dry cleaned.

All right. Head home. I’ll talk to your sister once I’m no longer frozen through. Will you be available Monday?

Having the weekend and a few extra days to work with would ease the sting a little. Monday works, assuming her project can wait that long.

Her project can wait that long. Go while you can. It’s going to be a madhouse here for the rest of the day.

When Terry said the palace would become insanity, the wise believed him. I delayed leaving long enough to escort him to his suite before heading to the parking garage to escape while I still could.

My sister would eventually remember me. By the time she did, I would be at home, safe from her trembling lip and ability to make me do whatever she needed.

My phone rang, and according to the screen, my sister had decided to take matters into her own hands. I checked the time, guessing she’d waited until after she thought I had had dinner before staging her ambush. I waited for the third ring to answer. Hey, Rachel. Do you need to be titled?

She made gagging sounds before replying, I’d rather you not. I have finally escaped Ethan’s clutches.

As my sister lived for being in her husband’s clutches, I narrowed my eyes. Are you trying to pull a fast one on Ethan again?

Yes.

All right. That meant she needed me to handle her husband’s home kingdom in some capacity or another. In a way, I appreciated that my sister had found her place in the world. However, when she decided she had a sword for a spine, I tended to be the one to pay the price for her assertion. Are you sending me to California?

Maybe. I need you to pull a fast one on California for me. Texas asked for a favor. If you go to California, it’ll be easier to help Texas.

That explained why Terry had shown some general uncertainty regarding my assignment; when my sister decided she was doing something, she did it—and she left the poor head of her detail to guess how best to help her efforts.

As the issue involved California, she struggled.

If she told Ethan about anything regarding California, she’d be torn apart trying to balance pleasing the Texan monarchs and placating Ethan’s loyalties to his home kingdom. That meant I would get to deal with California, something I didn’t mind.

The Californian monarchs treated me like a person rather than my parents’ son.

I’m always game to toy with some Californians. Do I get to drive a rusty white van and engage in a kidnapping? I mean, it’s my van. I should get a chance to drive it during a kidnapping.

My sister giggled. You’d have to take the van all the way to San Francisco. I don’t think it would work. Would the van make it that far?

Very probably not. I’d spend more time fixing it on the way than driving. But it has such a nice aesthetic, Rachel.

If you like the murder vibe.

I mean, I do. People give me a wide berth and do their best to keep from meeting my gaze. I can go just about anywhere in that van. It prevents unwanted attention. My truck, while not as rusty, put me firmly in the lower working caste, which rendered me utterly invisible. What do you need me to do?

Texas is preparing to send Eddie to California as part of an agent trade. Pat wants to force his daughter to do something for herself, and that means Eddie needs to be in California. Your agent situation is absolute shit. You need a detail, and we’re not going to be getting you a detail here. Terry is flipping about it. He pulled your RPS records, and after he graduated to positively snarling curses, I abandoned ship. Ethan is trying to calm Terry down, but it’s not working. So, I need you to handle a project for me while in California preparing for handling the Eddie Disaster.

The Royal emphasis on ‘the Eddie Disaster’ concerned me. Is that a code name?

Basically. As long as Eddie is in Texas, he can’t work with principals. Texas let Eddie accompany Terry and pretend he was getting to be on active exterior duty. He’s flagged as Deidre’s bond. And because Deidre is her father’s daughter, they’re assuming it’s a Royal level bond with her as the originator of the bond. That’s complicated because Eddie is his father’s son—and I mean both of his fathers. Like us, Eddie is an empath when he shouldn’t be one. He has his father’s level of empathy as far as we know.

Horses or people? I asked.

I’d guess both. My sister heaved a sigh. So, we need to put him on a safe detail. That’s you. But I also need you to do legitimate work with California. We’re going to be finalizing the wildfire legislation and alliance between California and New York. You’re the only New Yorker I’ve got that the Californians trust.

Ah. The assignment made sense. After the wildfire that had left my sister rocking second degree burns and needing a week of rest to recover from, the Californians had proposed an alliance with New York to help prevent the worst of the yearly fires. Upon realizing my sister hadn’t emerged unscathed and she’d hidden the severity of her burns, Ethan had flipped.

As such, the negotiation had been put on hold, although my sister had promised to help California should a large wildfire break out. But the rift between her and Ethan had become a sore point among everyone.

Ethan wanted to protect my sister. I respected that.

My sister needed a chance to shine, even if it meant she got some burns needing medical attention to heal without scarring. I would need to corner my sister and help her with her flameweaving lessons.

I could do similar work, but I’d made a point of hiding it from everyone.

All right. If you need me in California, I’ll go to California. I’ll even help play interference for the Texans. I’m not sure what you think I’m going to be able to do for Eddie beyond trying not to be a dick.

Don’t be a dick does come to mind. And share your jerky with him without trying to drown him.

I smiled at the taunt, another sign my sister conquered the demons of our past. I think I can manage that much. I like Eddie. He’s a good guy, and he can give me riding lessons. You can pay me with a horse.

While old age had caught up with the horse King Patrick of Texas had given me, I appreciated that he’d given me something my parents hadn’t been able to take away. With my parents out of the way, I could join my sister in having a horse.

Sure. I’ll talk to Pat about getting you a horse. I’m sure he’d be happy to help you and send an animal to California for you. I didn’t think you’d get another.

Not while our asshole parents were around, no. Saoirse got lucky; had any other king given me him, he wouldn’t have lasted a week before being taken to slaughter or sold elsewhere.

But Pat made a point of checking in on your baby.

I sighed. Right.

Do you think that you could be ready to go to California on Monday of next week?

Easily. While I appreciated that my sister thought I had anything better to do with my time, the reality of my situation continued to haunt me. Which next Monday are we talking about? The one in a few days or the one after?

The one after. Terry screamed about putting together a detail for you. And he’s trying to figure out how to be the head of two details at the same time. I had to remind him that he can’t do that. I’m going to recruit Olivia to contain him. I’m hoping he can lure a few Montana agents to New York to help spread the load. He is going to be discharging RPS agents who are unwilling to do their duty to the royal family. And yes, that includes you.

As arguing with her wouldn’t do any good, I sighed. I’ve played a part in this problem.

Like hell you have. You’re living a boring, quiet life. You don’t inconvenience your agents, and you only go out when you’re trying to convince others not all us New Yorkers are a waste of breath. Really, Ian. Try to be a bit more of a pain in the ass. You do not need to be a people pleaser. Be a little more asshole, a little less accommodating.

I raised a brow at my sister’s exasperated tone. Anything else, Rachel?

I have picked a secretary and aide staff for you for the California trip. Your secretary, who counts as your primary aide for this, will be staying in a connected suite. This will be efficient, especially as the negotiations will be complicated. You’ve been working on cars for so long I’m not sure you remember how to handle contact with other people.

I like working on cars. More accurately, I enjoyed taking out my frustration on the scrap metal, using my talent to form metal bars. Thanks to my magic, I could separate each type of metal based on its melting point, creating pure bars.

Those sold for the best.

I still played the stock market, and I even won at the game, but scrapping metal offered a strange sense of satisfaction. The bars I made went on to become something.

The money sat in a bank account, a way of keeping score without offering anything worth my while.

What use did I have for the money?

Well, I’m sure the Californians can find some cars you can play with if you miss your hobby. Just don’t take a page out of my book. There is no reason for you to try to light water on fire, Ian!

How is that working out for you? I teased, aware that my sister appreciated when I pulled on her chain a little.

Ethan is aware of my ways. He won’t let me shower unattended. He keeps saying I have to do my exercises properly.

Knowing Ethan, he was finding some nefarious way to distract my sister before making her do her exercises properly. I gave it another year or two before the pair pursued having their first child.

I’d been around enough parents to recognize the look in Ethan’s eyes—and I knew my sister well enough she’d be itching to have a baby to dote on soon enough. The real issue would be moderation.

My little niece or nephew would need a balanced upbringing to prevent history from repeating itself.

You do need to do your exercises properly. When you do your exercises properly, you can extinguish fires without getting burned. As Ethan freaks when you get burned, you need to refine your talent usage.

Damn it, Ian. It was just a few burns.

I’m not disputing that you did something necessary, but it was more than just a few burns. Anyway, how am I getting to California? I have no problems with going commercial.

I know you can handle commercial, you know you can handle commercial, but Terry cannot handle you going commercial. He’s going to have an aneurysm at this rate. He was literally screaming over your detail, Ian. Terry was screaming. He fired the agent who was supposed to be working with you after finding him puttering around with the interior guys and just monitoring one of your trackers. I don’t know if Ethan is going to be able to calm him down. We really might have to involve Olivia. If we involve Olivia, all hell is going to break loose.

I sighed. It’s not that bad, Rachel.

Oh, it is that bad. Terry is furious I paid some nitwit who couldn’t handle doing his job because you’re not an interesting principal.

I shook my head at that. If someone is joining the RPS for action and adventure, they’re fucking idiots.

While I agree with you, you are literally the easiest New Yorker to work with. You don’t travel much, everyone likes you, and you try your hardest to keep from inconveniencing anyone. Rachel made a strangled screaming sound. Olivia came to see what was keeping Terry, heard the venting, and she’s joined in. I’m not going to have a palace if those two gang up. Hold on. A moment later, the sound in the background changed, and I winced at the argument. Enough!

My sister’s bark startled me, and judging from the quiet on the other end of the line, she’d caught everyone else by surprise, too.

Nice. My little sister had decided to use the sword she had hidden in her spine.

Terry, it’s okay. Ian isn’t mad, and he’s not going to be mad. Yes, he needs a detail. You have a little over a week to put together a team for him. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Ian, can I impose? Terry is never going to sleep if he doesn’t feel like you have someone watching you.

I’ll come to the palace after I have a chance to pack. The packing wouldn’t take long; I would grab my clothing bags with all my suits, gather enough socks and underwear for a few weeks, and load my toiletry bag with the expectation of heading to California without being able to come back home. Call it two hours. Do try to keep Terry there—and check his body temperature. He was chilled through from his mud run.

I made him snuggle up on my couch with blankets after he got cleaned up, so he should be fine. He was not amused, but he could do his monitoring from there, so he accepted my edict. He is no longer on my couch, but I demanded he keep the blanket. Honestly, he’s rampaging while wrapped in a blanket, and it’s somehow made him terrifying. Terry, Terry, Ian’s coming to the palace, okay? You don’t have to eat the RPS agents. I mean, he needs a detail, but Ian can make it to the palace without help. My sister heaved a sigh. Ian, please do not get kidnapped, murdered, into an accident, or have anything happen to you that would worry Terry, okay?

What if a pretty kidnapper asks me nicely to cooperate? I asked, taking care to keep my tone light despite my understanding there would never be such things in my life.

I’d loved, I’d lost, and I doubted I’d be able to bring myself to delve into those dark waters again. I’d lost because I’d loved Madelyn enough to let her go—and I’d lost without telling the woman the truth.

The pain might one day fade, although I would forever wonder what might have been if only I hadn’t been born a prince.

While Madelyn wasn’t a null, her talent came close, which put her beneath the notice of most. I couldn’t quite remember how I’d noticed her or why she’d been in the palace. She hadn’t known of my rank, and I’d enjoyed our conversations enough I’d hesitated to tell her.

Eventually, she had learned the truth and vanished from my life.

Ian, my sister complained. Unless the kidnapper is a pretty woman promising to give you numerous heirs, you need to decline.

I promise to decline unless a pretty woman is somehow involved in scandalous fashions.

Drive safely. I’ll do my best to calm Terry down in the meantime.

I wished her the best of luck with that.

TWO

Circumstances could change with time and effort.

Two and a half hours after talking to my sister, I arrived at the palace. While I had my van, my junker of a truck, and a few beaters, I’d dug out the closest thing I had to something fancy, an upper end luxury family car I’d purchased a few years back used.

With Terry about to fall off his rocker, I’d try a little harder to blend in. And if anyone had been following me as of late, they would never expect a nice vehicle leaving my junkyard to belong to me.

The windows were as tinted as New York law allowed, and I kept the car in pristine condition.

Upon arrival, I discovered chaos in the form of a small crowd. I parked in front of the palace and regretted agreeing to come to my least favorite place on Earth.

My sister waited on the steps with Ethan, grinning at Terry’s antics, which involved a great deal of pacing.

Princess Olivia of Montana stared at her RPS agent with open adoration, and I took the opportunity to capture the moment in a photo. After some thought, I took a short video. Then I pocketed my phone, went to her, and stole a hug.

Olivia patted my back. I’m sorry, Ian. Terry really thought your detail was doing their job; they were submitting your location and detailed reports, and everything looked quiet but normal.

Terry quit pacing, heaved a sigh, and cast a guilty look my way. Had I known they were relaxing in the monitoring and operation rooms, I would have dealt with this a lot sooner. Please accept my apologies, Ian.

I accept your apology, but there’s nothing to forgive, Terry. I’ve been plenty safe, and had I felt otherwise, I would have gone to you or my sister promptly.

I would have, too. While life hadn’t gone the way I wanted, I had no desire for everything to end early.

Circumstances could change with time and effort.

How my circumstances might change continued to elude me, but I could hold on for however long was needed. My sister had proven that life could cut a sharp left turn and become something worth living.

Maybe such a thing could happen to me, too.

Terry released another sigh, and while it took him a few moments, he relaxed. Still, I should have noticed everything was going a little too well.

Considering that your job is to make sure my sister stays safe, it’s understandable. It might be worth having someone who has a dedicated job of monitoring detail reports for this sort of thing. New York has more than a few details, and it would be a full-time job. To reassure the RPS agent, I clapped his back before giving him a hug, something he appreciated and would comfort everyone present.

Terry gave my back a solid thumping before releasing me, stepping back, and narrowing his eyes. That’s a good idea, Ian. I believe I shall do just that.

I’ll make room in the budget for it, my sister promised. It’s a good solution, and it’ll take a lot of work off your plate. That’ll give you the time needed to work on establishing our mounted program. As Ian will be going to California, California can assist with establishing a proper detail for him. Right, Ethan?

My sister’s husband joined Terry, heaving a sigh. My brother is going to laugh at me for years over this, but yes. I’ll give my parents a call in the morning and start getting the ball rolling on that. Will your junkyard be all right if left unattended for a few weeks, Ian?

Fortunately, I transferred my metal bars to the vault beneath the junkyard after every session. Unless someone had the key or the right talents, my physical wealth would be safe enough. I pointed at my car. I brought the only valuable object readily accessible at the junkyard with me. My bars are in storage, and I wish any would-be thieves luck accessing them. There isn’t a whole lot in there right now. I did a delivery recently.

The delivery had bagged me over a million dollars in rare metals in their purest form. The next batch would be worth even more.

I had a mountain of old computer parts to melt down when I went back to work.

I can test Monty on some trips to the junkyard this week so you can get everything sorted for a few weeks away, Terry offered. That would give him some extra experience.

I read between the lines: he’d appreciate the chance to work on the problem in a way he could monitor. As my sister trusted Monty, if I could step outside of my comfort zone, she’d feel better about the situation, too.

Sure. I probably need ten total hours in the junkyard to finish the project I’m working on. After that, everything can sit without an issue.

Computer parts were easy to dismantle, extract the viable metals from, and otherwise prepare for sale. With ten hours, I could have everything barred. Two or three extra hours would let me get the metal sold off.

I could talk to Monty about getting those two or three extra hours. Had it been any other agent from the original New York RPS, I wouldn’t have been willing to even try, but Monty cared.

It wasn’t his fault I had trust issues.

Tuesday and Wednesday, Terry promised. Do you have everything you need to be here for the evenings?

It’s in my car.

I’ll go with you into the parking garage and help carry everything over. If you missed anything, I’ll be sending the agents who weren’t fired on the worst errands I can come up with for the next six months to change their attitudes. And if they don’t show an immediate willingness to work, they’re out.

You’re going to need a great deal of luck, Terry.

I know, the RPS agent replied, his tone one of despair. May we both survive a week of hell with our sanity intact.

My sister insisted on escorting me through the palace. In an effort to make me more comfortable with the changes in our lives, she’d deferred to me regarding my new suite. I appreciated that, although I doubted I could handle many more changes before I lost my mind.

I longed for something comforting in its familiarity.

One day, the changes would lose their edge and become normal. It would take time. Everything always took time.

I’m so sorry. Terry wasn’t taking no for an answer, and he couldn’t handle the thought of you being unprotected. We’re traumatized New Yorkers. Clearly, you might perish if you aren’t nearby where he can keep an eye on you.

I rolled my eyes at the thought of the RPS agent having lost his mind over the situation to that degree. Seriously?

Monty is sorry, too. He wasn’t responsible, but he feels like he should have noticed.

Well, that was something. It’s nothing new, Rachel.

I know that, you know that, everyone who has been in the RPS in New York before I got saddled with the kingdom knows it. Terry? According to Terry, the world is literally ending.

Behind us, the RPS agent in question snorted. While I’m confident he won’t immediately perish should we take our eyes off him for a minute, it’s the second or third minute that concerns me. I’ve learned I can take my eyes off your sister for precisely one minute before she finds some way to create trouble, Ian. I left her unattended for many minutes.

Rachel, he’s using our names. What did they do to him in Texas?

Exposure therapy in high quantity. Those Texans ganged up on him and made him use their names. Then his princess helped. They returned him to us capable of using our names. We let him use titles sometimes during the day so he doesn’t start to cry. RPS agents are delicate. My sister stopped, turned to face the head of her detail, and stomped her foot. You’re babying Ian.

Yes, I am. If I could bring His Majesty of Texas over to do the babying, I would. Instead, I am prescribing some Californian babying. It should be an effective treatment plan. I am expecting him to be capable of accepting general affection without becoming overly conscious of the fact that he needs attention to thrive. I will overhaul the RPS here while he is gone and make certain there are agents capable of babying at the appropriate intervals. I believe we can adapt him to being the baby of New York given a few months.

I realized the agent teased me, and I scowled at him. Terry.

Prince Ian, he replied in a rather amused tone. If you demonstrate you can keep your assigned agents nearby until your departure date, I’m sure you would be subjected to slightly less babying.

You’re an evil man, Terry. It comes as no surprise to me that the Montana royal family hired you. Your evil is a match for theirs. I wrinkled my nose at the man, aware he appreciated a more relaxed atmosphere. I wouldn’t trick him regarding my emotional state, not with his strength of magic, but at least I could defuse some of the general tension. I’ll even let an RPS agent into my car with me when I go to work.

Excellent. That’s all I can ask of you. Now that we’ve taken care of that business, what do you want for dinner?

My sister’s eyes narrowed. You haven’t had dinner, Ian?

I eyed Terry. How did you know I skipped dinner?

You have anxiety, and when you’re that anxious, you skip large meals because you’re afraid of throwing up. As such, I guessed you haven’t had dinner. But thank you for confirming it. If you are concerned about becoming ill, I’ll have the cooks make you some soup and provide a protein shake. Chocolate or vanilla?

Chocolate, I requested, aware if I asked for one, my sister might indulge in a milkshake. Can you make it in milkshake format?

I am sure an arrangement can be made.

As expected, my sister made a soft sound, which I deciphered as her trying to behave.

You can have one, too, Terry promised. We can arrange for a few extra minutes of exercise a day to make up for your indulgence.

In reality, Terry would trick my sister, giving her slightly longer but easier exercises to deceive her into believing she needed to maintain lower calories. The last I’d checked, he wanted her to gain a few more pounds. Despite his best efforts, Rachel still weighed below a hundred and twenty.

Terry wanted her at a healthy one thirty, which would be a balance of good body fat and muscle.

As far as I knew, Terry worked hard to keep his goals for my sister a secret from her and her husband, and I valued that I’d been asked for my opinion on the matter.

Rachel wouldn’t learn that her prized agent tricked her, not from me. I’ll pay penance with you, I offered.

We can try the mud run together. My sister stared at Terry with wide eyes. We can, can’t we?

I’ll allow you to do the course with your brother as a team. Neither one of you are up for it solo, but working together, it should be manageable. After I make sure your brother is fed and settled, I’ll make the arrangements. If you’re fine with it, Ian, we’ll tack on two days to our itinerary. That way, you’ll have a chance to recover from tomorrow’s adventure.

For Terry to want to delay a matter involving another kingdom by even two days, the situation truly bothered him. An extra two days wouldn’t hurt anything.

Well, I hoped.

For the first time in a long time, I slept in until after noon. Terry or one of the RPS agents had let Dr. Stanton into the room, and the woman fussed while prowling around my new suite. I checked the time again, groaned, and covered my head with one of the extra pillows. Don’t you live in North Dakota?

Dr. Stanton chuckled, came over, and sat on the bed beside me, patting my shoulder. I do, but your sister called me last night. She wants me to check on Terry, and she wanted to make sure you can run this mud course they’ve got set up. Then you slept in, and the entire lot of them panicked. Fortunately for my sanity, I was already here, so I had them let me in to check on you. Fatigue is the first official diagnosis for the day, but I’m approving the obstacle course. You’ll rest better when you’re mentally, emotionally, and physically tired. Also, good job coercing your sister into having a milkshake yesterday. Her metabolism is up again, so she gets to have one of those every evening before bed.

My sister would never tire of chocolate milkshakes, of that I was certain. Terry was trying to trick her into more exercise yesterday.

I’ll make sure she gets a large milkshake if he’s trying to improve her endurance—and make certain he isn’t exerting himself again. If he starts trying to get you into shape, call me. Terry is not sensible, and he has zero control over his mending talent.

As the doctor wouldn’t leave me alone until satisfied with my general health, I tossed the pillow to the side, untangled from my blankets, and sat up with a yawn. Why do I have a fatigue diagnosis?

You work too hard and don’t sleep enough. Concentrated empathy types without a bond, like yourself, tend to work to pretend depression is not an issue. Honestly, you’re better than I expected on the depression front. Terry has been monitoring you, and while he’s concerned, he admits you’re nowhere near as despondent as your sister before she settled her bond with Ethan. As such, I’m not going to be making any recommendations on that score. Working hard is helping you cope, so keep working hard. That said, I’d like you to try for a minimum of six to eight hours of sleep a night. If you need to work harder to tire yourself out, I’m sure we can accommodate that. I am going to ask one uncomfortable question, however. Are you like Adam?

I winced at the reminder of how North Dakota’s king and my friend had suffered for so many years, separated from the woman of his dreams due to her father’s greed. No, it’s nothing like that.

Why don’t you tell me about it. I’ve got all the time you need.

I considered the woman, wondering if telling her would change anything. After a few minutes, I sighed and said, There was a woman from a lower caste who came to the palace, and I loved everything about her. I didn’t tell her who I was. When she found out, I guess she left.

Or she finished her work at the palace and had no reason to stay? Dr. Stanton sighed. It’s funny how something as simple as meeting someone kind can wake magic. And for your magic to work, she must have felt something similar towards you. That’s all it takes, two people sharing similar emotions at the same time. It’s much like how your sister bonded with her husband. They both wanted the same thing at the same time.

As the doctor’s speculations matched my personal beliefs on the matter, I nodded. The first time I saw her, she’d just arrived at the palace and stared at everything in open wonder and delight. She’s not the prettiest woman in the world, but then? That joy made her beautiful. It was so honest, so genuine. It was like she had stepped into a dream and found nothing but magic in everything—magic she won’t ever have because of her caste.

Magic she doesn’t need as your partner. If anything, her having a limited talent would benefit you and your children, should you have any. And your empathy would know about your fears. You met her after your brother spontaneously combusted, didn’t you?

As always, the pain of my brother’s death stirred.

He hadn’t wanted our magic, and before his death, he’d made me promise to think of him as Dennis, boring and normal and everything a prince of New York could never be. I’d promised him I would—and I did. I also kept my word to keep boring and normal Dennis a secret.

Secrets I handled well.

But one truth I could speak without betraying my brother, not that anyone listened or heard me. My brother did not spontaneously combust. He hated his magic, he hated being a Royal of New York, and he wanted the vigil to end. He suicided, and he stopped fighting the magic that always sought to eat him alive. He had tired to the point of no return. And so he went. And because he was a Royal of New York, he couldn’t escape here, he couldn’t find somewhere better to burn. He combusted at the point he’d lost all hope for some better future, one without his magic eating away at him every day.

Rather than say anything, Dr. Stanton reached over, wrapped me in her arms, and pulled me close. The grief I’d carried with me from the day of his death stirred, but rather than bottle it, I allowed it to escape.

Dr. Stanton was many things, but I could trust her to understand the words I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

Time passed as it did, and after a while, she