A Guiding Light_A Royal States Novel Page 3

  “Dad’s goons are too stupid to look for me here. My sister has no idea I copied your address down. She still thinks keeping important things under her bras will hide them.”

  I absolutely couldn’t afford to think about Veronica or her bras. I assumed the goons were the RPS agents responsible for protecting the royal family. “How did you escape from your agents?”

  “I behaved for two whole weeks, waited for the morning deliveries, and slipped into the truck. The hard part was figuring out how to get here, but I’ve gotten really good at hiding. My middle name is Paul; you should call me that so people don’t figure out who I am.”

  Once word spread the young prince had gone missing, anyone with a working pair of eyes would look at him and realize who he was, but I wouldn’t pop his bubble yet. “I’m probably going to call you whatever I feel like at any given moment. Kid will be common.”

  Marshal frowned, but he nodded. “I’m old enough you can leave me alone when you need to work. It’s okay.”

  “You really don’t know anything about me, do you?”

  He gulped.

  “I’m a construction worker, Marshal. I’m done until the spring. I do the spring and summer rounds and fill in during the fall. That’s good for you, as it means we won’t have to go out often.”

  Heaving a sigh, he flopped onto my squeaky couch and relaxed. “That explains why this place hasn’t fallen down yet. You’re handy to have around. That doesn’t answer my question, though. How much would you need to move somewhere nicer?” He paused, glancing in the direction of my bedroom. “Somewhere with a shower that isn’t going to explode messily into your bedroom and ruin everything you own.”

  “You’re determined to make me move.”

  “You’d make me help you clean up the mess. Please move. You deserve better. I bet you could move near Fargo without anyone figuring it out. You use a different last name than your parents.”

  I needed to stop leaving my mail out so a nosy invader named Marshal couldn’t read it. “Yes, I use a new name specifically so people like you don’t knock on my door. If you don’t want the RPS knocking at my door and tossing me in prison, you’ll need to pretend you never heard of me or your family.”

  Marshal snorted.

  “I hope you realize the whole point of living in the sticks is to be difficult to find.”

  “Distance won’t help you.”

  The truth hurt, and I hated hearing it. If anything, distance made my problems worse. “Why Fargo?”

  “My father’s selling good land on the outskirts of the city, zoned for residential buildings. My sister’s mad because your waterfall is up for sale, the one you used to take her fishing when it was still a park.”

  Regicide seemed like a very attractive choice. I’d probably die, but wringing the king’s neck in my hands would be the perfect way to go. “He’s selling the park?”

  “He needs the money to help when New York sells. He’s going to take the funds and use them for public programs so when people lose their jobs, they won’t starve. He’s expecting a lot of people to lose their jobs. He’s going to rezone panned-out mining areas as parks and have them reforested after the dust settles.”

  Land near Fargo ran tens of thousands per acre, and I had no doubt the elite would buy large lots to build their personal wonderlands. I didn’t care if I only landed the one lot, but the waterfall was a place I couldn’t let go. I’d spent the best days of my life there with Veronica.

  If anyone was going to own that slice of heaven, it would be me. “You win, kid. What’s the going rate, and when does it go on sale?”

  “Tomorrow. It’s part of why I came now. The manager overseeing the lot will take reservations now, but no one knows it’s going up for sale yet—just you. Father didn’t tell anyone so he wouldn’t be bothered about it.”

  Seers were useful, and I’d have to reward the kid with something better than macaroni and cheese. “The going rate?”

  “Fifty thousand an acre.”

  I’d need to liquidate stocks to get the money, but as I needed to clear out any holdings in New York anyway, it would work. I wasn’t even sure how much I had invested in New York, but if I didn’t have enough to cover the lot’s buying price, I’d dip into other kingdoms until I did. “Do you know the lot numbers?”

  The prince had a far nicer wallet than mine, and he dug through it and handed over a folded printout with ten lots highlighted. The waterfall’s lot was circled. “What are the other nine lots?”

  “Prime land near the waterfall. It’s big enough for you to build a nice house on. You could invite my sister over. She’d love it, especially if you took her fishing. She misses fishing.”

  I missed fishing, too, but unlike the young prince determined to become a matchmaker, I held no hope of returning to the past. “You like making my life difficult, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “It’s your special place.”

  The young seer was a useful pain in my ass. I bet the damned brat knew the waterfall and his sister were one of many reasons I couldn’t sleep at night. “Anything else I should know?”

  “Dad’s hoping if she can’t go to your favorite places anymore, she’ll forget about you.”

  Of course he did. His Majesty had made it clear I wouldn’t be polluting his family line. North Dakota needed reliable talents to stay a contender in the Royal States. I hadn’t bred true, so I’d been deemed unfit. Everything, to him, was what he thought was best for the kingdom.

  Had I been given the chance, I would’ve given everything I had to the kingdom to stay with Veronica.

  Under no circumstances could I allow Veronica’s brother to learn how much his presence cut into me. “His Majesty is an idiot. Veronica can out-stubborn a rock when she wants. He’s the damned one who made her that way.”

  “He just wishes she’d stop loving you.”

  Forget my talent. Prince Marshal was going to be the death of me. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the age where girls have cooties? You’re matchmaking. It’s also not happening. It’s an impossibility, Marshal. Your father won’t allow it. Your father’s council won’t allow it. Hell, no one would allow it.”

  I left out the ‘in this hellhole’ part of my thoughts, as it wasn’t fair to him—or anyone else—I resented what I couldn’t change.

  “I like fishing, too. It drives Dad nuts. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t erase you from our lives. We only fish because you liked to fish.”

  “Not only are you matchmaking, you want me to spend half a million dollars so you can fish at my spot.”

  “The next time I have to run away, it’ll be easier to reach your house.”

  The damned brat was already planning to run away? He hadn’t even gone home yet from his first flight. “You assume there’ll be a next time.”

  He grinned at me.

  I sighed, wondered how I’d gotten to the point in my life where I was eligible to have a mid-life crisis, and prepared to buy a fortune in prime real estate I’d ultimately be forced to build a house on, all because I couldn’t stand the thought of someone other than me owning a damned waterfall I hadn’t visited in eighteen years.

  At least I’d have a good place to spend the money I’d be liquidating out of New York before masterminding a financial attack on a kingdom far larger than mine. The money would help my plans, too, sparing the people I once would’ve ruled from hardship while I waged war from the shadows.

  In another life, I must’ve been a terrible person.

  Armed with the lot numbers and my laptop, I evaluated my New York stocks, set up to sell, and began the tedious process of moving money from Point A to Point B so I could pay for a fortune in land. Only an idiot would pay fifty grand an acre for wild forest a thirty-minute drive from civilization. Worse, if I wanted to access the highway, I’d need to buy thirty acres.

  Roads didn’t pave themselves, and the other elite who’d snap up the land for their retreats wouldn’t allow someone else to run
a road over their prized property.

  While tempted to spit curses, I thought them instead, taking the bait hook, line, and sinker. I didn’t want to think about how much it would cost me to build a house on my new land. I expected it would cost me far more than the land.

  Damn it. I really wanted to punch His Royal Majesty in his mouth and break his perfect teeth for turning my life into a living hell.

  The real estate manager in charge of selling the lots almost pissed his pants when he found out I was paying in cash and wanted to close immediately. He told me it would take up to a week to finalize; four days if I could come to Fargo and sign in person.

  The prince’s arrival on my doorstep had changed everything, and I didn’t hesitate long. In three days, I could handle my affairs in Hettinger before hauling ass to some suburb of Fargo. If I dressed Marshal down and shoved a cap over his head, I might even get away with towing my newly acquired royal pain in the ass around.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent the fruits of my labor on something I wanted. Darker thoughts brewed beneath the surface, too. Owning the land would cause me nothing but trouble. It was only a matter of time Veronica poked her nose where it didn’t belong.

  Being apart was hard enough. Meeting her again wouldn’t do either one of us any good.

  Before I’d accepted the inevitably of spending the rest of our lives apart, I’d daydreamed about building the sort of home she’d love, putting it in a place she couldn’t resist, and waiting for her to return to me. The dream had never happened; I usually fell asleep before she found me, leaving me waiting as always.

  Despite everything, I still didn’t want to let her go.

  “You’re scheming,” Veronica’s brother announced.

  At the rate I had to keep misleading the royal brat, I’d be a world champion liar by the end of the week. “Logistics. I hope you’re ready to keep your head down and pretend you’re nothing more than the bastard kid of some dude who got lucky and won the lottery.”

  “You’re too young to be my dad.”

  Technically, I wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to enlighten him about the error of his thinking. Had things been different, had we been given a chance, I suspected my firstborn child would’ve been around Marshal’s age.

  It hurt thinking about it.

  “Fine. Pretend I’m the younger brother of your father, we’ll slate your parents as low-life druggies, and I’m stuck with you because they’re in jail in another kingdom for going on a bender. Actually, only your deadbeat father’s in jail. Your mother’s bailing him out, and I was watching you while they were on vacation.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s unfortunately common.” I knew of four families in Hettinger broken apart through drug use, and most of them had gone to Nevada to chase fortune they’d never catch. “You’re also homeschooled because you’re too busy working under the table to pay for their habits. You gopher for construction workers during the peak season, and you’re tipped for handing over tools. You also help out in a local garage to keep cars running.”

  “I sound like I work a lot. Yuck.”

  “That’s the deal, kid.”

  “Anything else I should know, Uncle Adam?”

  “You’ll be lucky if you don’t starve to death because I can barely take care of myself.”

  “You do look thin. I was wondering about that. I don’t get it. You had one and a half million dollars to spend on land. Why are you so thin?”

  “Keyword: had.”

  “No one spends that much without blinking unless there’s a lot more available. You didn’t even think about it. You have money, but you live like this?”

  Damned perceptive brat. “Why waste the money?”

  “I don’t understand. Being healthy is important.”

  For someone with something to look forward to, health was important. What did I have to look forward to? I shrugged. “I needed to do something to fill the time, so I made money. I’m reclusive, so I have a lot of time.”

  “I heard you’d refused everything you family gave you after—” Marshal snapped his teeth together.

  “After it was clear I had a weak illumination talent unlikely to develop into something useful. At the time, I was so pissed over them sending me to a cheap school I wanted a little payback. It wasn’t just a cheap school. It was a cheap school with no prospects, one that wouldn’t meet any requirements for expanded education. I was dumped with the expectation I’d be working in manual labor for the rest of my life. I won’t lie. I wanted payback. Returning their wasted money, with interest, was that payback. That’s where the envelope came from. I was sending them the money from the only account with my birth name on it. The bank account used had an originating address in Fargo, which was a mail forwarding service to a PO box I check four times a year. The return to sender stamps were to give the illusion I didn’t live here.”

  “This house belongs to an old couple. My father looked into it.”

  “He didn’t look close enough.” I smiled at that. The truth was, the old couple had made the apartment under the table, and I used the house mailbox as mine.

  “You really did return their letters.”

  “I did. I didn’t have any interest in being the family shame.”

  “But you have a strong leeching talent. It’s really strong. We all know that because of my sister. It’s strong enough Mother’s worried about it. Father just keeps hoping it’ll go away. It won’t.”

  That the royal family was discussing my talent left a sour taste in my mouth. “My inability to look at another woman has no value to anyone.”

  “Except my sister.”

  How much was her, and how much was my rogue talent binding us together? I’d been warned I’d always carry the brunt of the burden, but if she wanted the bond, she’d be equally trapped until the day I died.

  Being trapped wouldn’t be so bad if I had more than impossibilities to cling to, no matter what Veronica’s little brother said. Would being closer ease some of the pressure or make it worse?

  Returning to Fargo hadn’t been in any of my plans, and I’d made that clear when I’d written to my parents and returned their money along with their name. Adam Penshire no longer existed. I’d legalized the documentation severing me from my family and cutting all ties. The law sided with me. Their actions classified as a disowning, and as the disowned who’d filed the final severance, they couldn’t find me, nor could any official associations, which included the royal family.

  The betrothal document, even nullified in the court, counted as an association.

  I was the only one who could revoke the clauses preventing contact.

  “Adam?”

  “Do you love your parents, Marshal?”

  He frowned. “Of course.”

  “Then why would you abandon them by running away?”

  “It’s because I love them and my kingdom. You’re the only one who can help. I’m not abandoning them. I’m just disappearing until my dreams show a better future.”

  I longed for his confidence. “I’m a broken glass they threw out because I couldn’t do the job I’d been made for. There’s no fixing missing magic. I was packed up and shipped off to be trained in a job someone of my new caste can do. From five years old, I’d been taught to cherish one woman, reminded daily of my duty, and trained in the little things a consort who’d one day become a king needed to know. I knew every monarch by name, I could point where every kingdom was on the map, I was instructed on the importance of a strong economy and obeying the laws. I was supposed to be the embodiment of North Dakotan principles.”

  The young prince bit his lip and stared at the floor. “Sorry.”

  “My talent evaluation changed everything. I became the kingdom’s failed gamble. When I came here, I swore I wouldn’t fail any other gambles. I went to the school they picked, I lived in the cheapest apartment money could buy, and I ate only enough to survive. Every other penny I invested. Then I
invested every penny those pennies made. Every new penny validated me. ‘Look,’ they said. ‘I’m not a waste.’ I have a lot of pennies now.”

  “But they don’t make you happy.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Why collect pennies, then?”

  I laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “To help the kingdom I can’t leave behind, it seems. At least my pennies can be put to good use for a change.”

  “You bought the waterfall. That’s a good use.”

  “Memories are what I have left. That’s all that waterfall is, a very expensive memory.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “But they’re what I have.”

  In Fargo, I would have a purpose for a while. It would have to be enough.

  Chapter Three

  I had more invested in New York than I’d thought; one of the startups I’d supported on a whim had spiked, and it alone paid for my new land. It would pay for the house I’d have built, too. Most of the land I’d preserve, although I’d make a fire buffer and install a watering system for the trees near my new home.

  As people learned year after year, one wildfire could ruin everything.

  In the four days before closing on my lots, I packed my belongings into a rented trailer, hitched it to my pickup, and drove to Fargo with the runaway prince. I expected every cop on the road to pull me over. When we arrived at the mid-range hotel I’d picked as my base of operations, I expected the staff to recognize Marshal.

  The older lady behind the counter beamed at the prince. “Aren’t you a handsome one? Don’t give your father gray hairs; he’s a handsome one, too.”

  “He’s my uncle. Mom and Dad did a stupid, so Uncle Adam’s taking care of me for a while,” Marshal replied, bouncing on his toes. “I’m Paul.”

  “You poor dear.” She smiled and leaned over the counter, holding out the room keys to Marshal. “You go run along with your uncle and get yourselves settled. If either one of you need anything, you let us know.”