Chapter 32

Callum

If the kilted oaf who’s in love with my Flora thinks I’m a nincompoop, so be it.

“Ah, but I’m a nincompoop who’s on the other side of this door. You’re the one trapped in the basement.”

Uther grunts in displeasure. “I’m tired of wasting time. The more you fight me, the longer it will take me to find the princess.”

“I have a better idea. You stay out of my way. Stay here and take care of the queen. I’m a better tracker than you are.”

He follows a long pause with, “My second in command is watching the queen. I’ll find the princess, or it’ll be my hide.”

“How do I know you weren’t somehow behind the princess’s disappearance? How do I know you didn’t try something with her, and she didn’t give you a knock on the head?”

“Are you mad?”

“Maybe.”

“Then our only choice is to work together to find her. If I’ve done something to make her disappear, then you’ll suss it out, won’t you, oh wise one?”

Just for that “wise one” comment, I stand back and let the door fly open on his next shove.

Uther bursts through the door and thuds to the floor, much to my satisfaction.

Now angry as a hornet, Uther stands and shoves me against the wall. “You spiteful little asshole.”

The “little” comment raises my hackles, and I pull my fist back, ready to let it fly.

“What are you idiots doing?”

With my fist still gripping the front of Uther’s jacket, I swing around to find Queen Hilda at the end of the corridor, watching us with rage in her eyes.

“Your Majesty,” Uther and I reply in chorus.

He lets go of me, and I let go of him. We both turn and bow to our queen.

When I lift my gaze to hers, she has moved forward and stands less than five meters away. Despite today being her daughter’s coronation, she still wears her mourning black.

The queen’s steely gaze shifts between Uther and myself.

“Idiots,” she says.

I’m prepared for a verbal dressing down. It’s no less than what I deserve now that I see the situation through a mother’s eyes. I see it all clearly; our eyes are at the same height, and her medium frame is in her heels. I’m not a tall man, a fact that everyone in this country bedeviled with tall blond folks loves to remind me of.

What I’m not prepared for is the backhanded slap. One for me, straight across the jaw. The slap she delivers to the giant Uther barely cuts across that stupid cleft in his chin.

“Now you listen to me, the both of you. Stop fucking around, get over whatever this idiotic rivalry is, and go find my daughter. You, Callum, are the best tracker in the kingdom. Uther, you’re not the brightest, but you’re the muscle. It seems obvious to me that if my daughter is in danger, the two of you should be working together. If a single hair on her head is damaged, I’ll remove both of yours. Now go.”

The queen’s eyes bore into our backs as we leave, heading to the last place I saw her to begin the search in earnest.

I have to remind myself that Uther is not the enemy here.

Flora is in danger, and I won’t let her get hurt.

I knew I should never have taken my eyes off her, not for a second.

You’d think I’d have learned my lesson a year ago.