Royal Pain (His Royal Hotness 1)

“No, it’s not. Because he’ll never get better if he thinks our father doesn’t have faith in him. If he thinks Wildemar doesn’t need him. Duty to this country is Garrett’s whole life—healthy or not, that’s the truth. How can I take that away from him?”

I turn his words over in my head, trying to get to the heart of what he’s saying. Usually Kian’s so direct, but it’s obvious he’s working this out in his own head as we talk and right now it feels a lot like we’re going in circles without ever getting to the truth of what’s bothering him.

“Is that the real problem then?” I finally ask, wishing I could see his face. Then again, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be having this conversation if I could see it. “Not that you think Garrett is competent and not getting a fair shake, but that you’re afraid taking away his title will crush his will to get better?”

“His whole life he’s been crown prince. It’s his whole identity. It’s all he knows.”

I’m in no position to disagree, considering how our relationship had gone. Garrett might have said he was in love with me, but I never held a candle to his love for Wildemar. He’d never had any intention of doing anything but marrying Felicity when the time came, because he believed that was what his country needed.

Then again, maybe this isn’t about Garrett at all right now. Maybe it’s more about Kian than he wants to admit. “What about what you know? What about what you want?”

Now he does turn to look at me, incredulity ripe on his face. “What the fuck does that mean?”?’

I back off immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

“You didn’t hit a nerve. I just want to know what you mean by that.”

Fuck. When am I going to learn to keep my big mouth shut? “I just wonder if deep down you agree with your father? That maybe you think Garrett isn’t capable of being crown prince again—through no fault of his own, of course. Just…it might be a hard sell to the people, trying to get them to follow a leader who might have been compromised. It’s not a reflection on you if—”

“Why the fuck does everyone keep saying that?” He shakes me off none-too-gently, which tells me just how upset he is as Kian’s never been anything but careful with me. “He’s not compromised!”

“Okay.” He’s obviously really upset and I’m not going to fight him on this. Partly because it’s not my fight and partly because I recognize a losing battle when I see one. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, you’re not.” He’s staring at my face now, his green eyes dangerously narrow.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s obviously more you want to say. So say it.”

“There’s nothing more I want to say,” I lie.

“Really? That’s the story you’re going to stick with?” His eyes narrow even more. “You’ve never had any trouble speaking your mind to me before. So what’s different now?”

Something in his tone gets my own back up. Puts me on red alert even as I tell myself not to get worked up. Kian’s upset, rightfully so. With everything that’s gone on in his life these last few days—and few months—he deserves to have someone cut him some slack. “I was just trying to present both sides—”

“Bullshit. There aren’t two sides to this issue. There’s right and there’s wrong.”

I bite my lip to keep from disagreeing. “Okay. If that’s how you feel—”

“See. You’re bullshitting me again.” He shoves a frustrated hand through his hair. “What the fuck, Savannah? I thought I could trust you of all people.”

“You can trust me.” I pause as his words sink in. “And what does that mean, anyway. Me of all people?”

“I came to you because I wanted your advice, wanted to know what you thought about this whole thing. Yet all you’re doing is blowing smoke up my ass?”

Okay, now my back really is up. “First of all, I tried to be honest with you and you jumped down my throat. Second, are you sure you really want me to be honest? Because it feels like all you want is for me to agree with you since you jump down my throat every time I say something you don’t like.”

“Because you don’t get it!”

My brows hit my hairline. I’m understanding it—and him—by the second. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I suggest, “So explain it to me. Tell me what really has you upset.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” He storms toward to the kitchen. “My father—”

“This isn’t about your father.”

He pulls a mug out of the cupboard, pours himself a cup of coffee. “Of course it’s about my father. He blindsided me, blindsided Garrett…”

“I think you want to feel like he blindsided you, but you’re a smart guy, Kian. You had to at least have had an inkling this was coming.”