Chapter 28

28

Thala

Another three days had passed, but Hank and I still hadn't come out to the public. There were too many loose ends to be addressed before I could pursue a life with Hank short of renouncing my title, but I was prepared for that.

I resigned from the royal guard. Amadea assured me I could keep my title as general, but it didn't matter as much as it did when she granted me that honor when I turned twenty-five. It had been an empty title to begin with. I hadn't fought in or won wars. The exhibitions were a big part of tourism, so I made sure I left them in good hands. Who knows? Maybe I'd do one or two a year for special occasions.

But the one thing I wanted the most was being allowed to speak with Petros. Amadea had refused to talk to our brother after his arrest. I didn't blame her. But I couldn't have this hanging over my future happiness. The prison guard snapped his feet together and bowed in respect before letting me into a special visiting room. My brother had it easy considering he conspired to assassinate the queen. Despite our violent history, the death penalty had been abolished in the eighties. By the looks of it, he would be incarcerated forever.

He was already waiting in the room. No shackles because he wasn't physically dangerous.

He stood. "Can I hug you?"

I hated him. And I felt sorry for him. I walked toward him and he met me halfway. "You're an idiot, Petros."

We embraced, but I disentangled quickly and moved to a chair opposite the one he vacated.

He emitted a derisive chuckle. "Is that the first thing you want to say to your brother?"

"My brother. Who's a traitor to this country."

"That's where you're wrong. I only had this country's best interests in mind."

"Why risk everything, Petros? I don't understand. It couldn't be because you hate how Amadea runs things."

"I did it because of love," he stated quietly.

"What?"

"I loved Sokolov," he said.

My mouth fell open. "He's married."

"And that's why we kept our affair a secret."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Five years, but my love died a slow death."

"How so?"

"Roxana was a referral from him."

"We already know that."

Petros laughed derisively. "Sokolov got me into a compromising position and had Roxana film us."

"You mean like a sex tape?"

"You really want me to spell it out?" His eyes flashed irritably. "Yes. Naked. Bodies writhing."

I waved a hand. "Okay, I get the picture. And you're telling me this because…"

"I don't know, so you can be prepared? Roxana still has the videos or Sokolov had the sex tape locked away, but now Sokolov is dead…" His voice cracked. "He never loved me. I came to that conclusion a long time ago. Trust is important in a relationship and he lost that the moment I found out about his plans to manipulate me with the sex tape."

"You put Amadea in danger, but you didn't care, did you?"

"I wanted you to be the queen."

"No, you thought I would have become your puppet if I were the queen."

His mouth tightened. "It doesn't matter now what you think except one thing, and that one thing is important for me you know and believe…"

"That you never meant me harm."

He gave a slight nod.

He was asking me for forgiveness.

I exhaled a long breath. "Petros, even if I said you're an idiot, you're not really that dumb. You might not have been in the know about the bomb and the plot to my recent kidnapping, but you were aware of the character of the people you do business with. That makes you liable." I stood. "Don't ask me for forgiveness. You should face the consequences of your actions."

I turned away. Interestingly enough, no tears came.

"Thala, I'm sorry."

I refused to look at him. "You should apologize to the people. Not me. It's our country you failed, Petros." I pounded on the door. "Guard!"

Later that evening, I was in my apartments, brooding, with the laptop in front of me. The prompts for username and password to the Venusstean Intelligence division mocked me. I was so damned fickle. After I resigned from the royal guard, I felt unmoored. Directionless. Was this what I wanted to do next? Or was it just a byproduct of my desire to uncover the plot against our realm?

Ginny came into the sitting room. "Mr. Bristow is here to see you."

I really should give Hank free rein of the castle. "Show him in, Ginny."

"Yes, Princess."

"And next time, you don't need to announce him."

Ginny grinned and bowed before she left.

Hank strode in.

"Has Ramsay given you full clearance to roam the castle?"

"He has." When he reached me, he bent forward and kissed my forehead. He leaned slightly away, but kept our faces close. "Keeping my hands off you is torture. Are you sure this is what we mean by easing the public into us, because as far as I can see, no one's around."

I laughed briefly. "We don't want any accidental public display of affection because we're used to it in private."

"You mean like an accidental boob grab?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, that."

He continued leaning into me, keeping close, his eyes full of amusement. His mouth was just an inch away, maybe less. My eyes lowered.

"Damn, Princess, you make it so hard." I could imagine an internal sigh coming from him and he moved across from me and plopped into an armchair. "So, how was your visit with Petros?"

"Enlightening."

He put his feet up on the coffee table, but then remembered where he was and straightened in his chair. Poor Hank. He wasn't comfortable in this castle setting, and frankly, this formality was grating on me. I longed for the simplicity of the cabin. But I could live anywhere as long as Hank was at my side.

We locked stares. He was waiting for me to say more about my visit with Petros, but when I didn't, he shrugged. "Fair enough."

"What have you guys been up to?" I asked.

Kade had flown back to the U.S., but Garrison and Hank had stayed on to do cleanup.

"We got into Sokolov's computer and hit the motherlode of clients for the collar."

"Motherfuckers."

Hank raised a brow at my cursing. "Are we rubbing off on you?"

"Maybe?" I deadpanned. "Do you have a line on how to track them down and free those poor souls?"

"We're coordinating with local authorities. They're mostly underground fights in Africa."

"I wish I could do what you do."

His eyes gleamed. "Hang around me enough and find out."

"Is that an invitation?"

Hank stared at me for a beat and stood. "You know what?" He checked his watch. "I think it's time for our first public outing."

I arched a brow, not bristling at all at the command in his tone. If I were honest with myself, I was waiting for him to make the first move. I needed to know he wouldn't let my position be a barrier in wanting to be with me. "Is that so?"

"Yeah." He stood and grabbed his bag. "Can I shower and change here? Can you be ready in an hour?"

"I can be ready sooner than that, as long as I don't have to wear a gown."

He laughed. "Wear something nice. I've got reservations at an exclusive club. Just drinks and little bites. Nothing too celebratory, but you have to show the country that life is moving on and you're not hiding in the castle."

My lips parted in amazement. Maybe it was the first sunbeam to pierce the cloud of melancholy since my visit with Petros. "You already planned it?"

"Got Ramsay's approval, and he's dispatched advance security to the venue. It's time to give the country something else to chew on."

Hank

I could be a patient man, but I also had good instincts, and those instincts were screaming at me to give the princess a wake up call. A few days in Venusstea and I knew this was not the life for the Thala I had come to know.

She knew it. But she was stubborn. She already quit the royal guard. That was a step in the right direction. With Ramsay back in charge, there was going to be a reorganization anyway.

I would never pressure her to renounce her title, but I would damn well show her what I could offer. I may not have a coffer of antique jewelry, but I could buy her anything she wanted. I wasn't destitute. I'd saved and invested enough. In passing, I thought I shouldn't have donated my Buchanan inheritance to charity, but also, in the back of my mind, I had no regrets. Thala wasn't the princess of fairy tales. She was the princess of legend, a superhero's origin story.

What I desired the most was to show her the life she was meant to live.

And I wanted to be the man behind her back, and the man who loved her the way she deserved.

And if that meant facing public scrutiny, then so be it.

"Goddammit," I muttered when the SUV stopped in front of the club.

Paparazzi were already vulturing.

"Someone from the club probably tipped them off," Thala said. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"Hell no."

Surprisingly, I'd checked the tabloids less when I was here, but Ramsay sent me an email with a link to several articles wanting to know who the princess's new uber protective bodyguard was. And not long after, the press put two and two together. That the princess lived with me back in the U.S. and we were rekindling the relationship.

Thala was single. I was single. No one was scandalized as long as we weren't seen in public. And we were about to test public opinion. Ramsay had secretly wished me luck. I had a feeling he was hoping for public acceptance of a royal's relationship with a commoner, so it would pave the way for him and the queen.

I wondered if Thala found out that Petros and Sokolov had been lovers. I found a video in one of Sokolov's cloud storages. A gay relationship wouldn't bother the House of Targen either, but adultery would. I had a feeling Petros confessed to Thala, judging by how tight-lipped she was when I asked her about the visit.

Several bodyguards accompanied us on our outing, including an advance party who coordinated with the hotel security.

When one of them opened the door, the camera flashes and reporters were reminiscent of LA. But at this moment, I wasn't undercover. I was escorting a princess as her date and there was no fake dating happening. I got out of the Mercedes. I waved off the guards, intending to assist the princess from the vehicle.

She was gorgeous in a silver cocktail dress that hit mid-thigh. I hadn't seen her in stilettos since the plane bombing.

I held out my hand. Thala gave me an impish grin that said, "We're really doing this." And my own communicated, "Hell yeah."

And when she slipped her hand in mine and got out, it felt like everyone was holding their breaths on what would happen next. Including me. Would I let go? Would she yank her fingers from my hold?

I interlaced our fingers. No resistance came from Thala, and together, while holding hands, we took our first steps as a couple.

The questions exploded.

"Are you together?"

"What about the Argent law?"

"Are you getting married?"

Security did an excellent job of keeping the crowd in check.

"Let's pose for pictures," Thala whispered in my ear.

I grinned at her. "You're sure?"

"Yes. We're not running into the building and hiding our relationship."

Relationship. I bit back a smile. We never defined it as such.

A couple of steps in, we stopped and smiled, and the paparazzi ate that up.

"Is Holden Buchanan your boyfriend?"

I wasn't surprised they knew my real name. The princess rescue was global news and someone must have recognized me and talked to reporters.

Thala and I didn't answer.

But when one particularly pushy reporter shoved a mic at Thala, I batted it away.

"Knock it off, man. We're not answering questions."

"Is the queen okay with this—"

"Come on." I had enough and guided Thala inside.

When we entered the lobby, a distinguished man in a suit with a nameplate above his left breast pocket introduced himself as the manager of the hotel. "Princess Thala, Mr. Buchanan, thank you for visiting the Canary Club. We have your booth reserved for you and your party."

Thala and I followed the gentleman.

She whispered in my ear, "The burger date was more fun."

A burst of humor shook my chest. "Yeah. I agree."

Eyes followed us the moment we entered the club. It was part bar/part dance club. Amid pounding techno music, an expansive bar stood in the middle of the club. Ramsay suggested this establishment because it was the best place to be seen by the target demographic that could influence parliament.

The man led us to a booth, and I helped Thala into it. Our security scattered around. When we settled into our seats, I looked at her. "Are you okay?"

A frown appeared between her brows. "Not really."

"Shit, did I mess up with this date?"

She glanced at me. "No. The objective was to be seen."

A server came to take our drink orders and left us the bar menu.

I scanned it quickly and didn't see anything appetizing. Good thing I wasn't hungry. Usually when I was in another country, I couldn't wait to explore the local offerings. Venusstean cuisine was like British. Boiled meat, potatoes, and cabbage.

Thala was unusually quiet. Thoughts were swirling in my head, too. I felt like I was getting sucked into her world and it was sucking out the person I was. I thought about Dad. How he tried to belong in Mom's world. I was only on the fringes of discovery. Imagine having to live like this because of duty.

I leaned into her. "Can I be honest?"

She laughed. "You don't have to say anything. It's written all over your face."

"It is?"

"I'm sorry, Hank, for subjecting you to this circus."

"Hey, it's your circus, but what I was going to say is, I fucked up with this date. I shouldn't have taken Ramsay's advice."

Thala laughed harder. "You're blaming Ramsay now?"

"The whole idea was to be seen in public. It feels like a chore and is still not about us. About what we want."

"What I want is to tell people to go fuck themselves and leave us alone."

"We can still do that." I took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. "Tell me what you want."

"Take me home and make love to me."

I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."