Page 42 of Retrograde

Stupid jokes, butjokes.

Joris was relieved when I shrugged it off and was fine.

“The other guy?” I asked, knowing he was going to try to skip that.

I rolled my eyes as the asshole didn’t give a monologue, but atiradeshitting on me. His main focus?

That I was such a shit lover because I never called my man.

Part of the grounds for the lawsuit had some of the more benign evidence just to get it going. Something Darren had ready to go besides what Onyx found was in my phone records.

Specifically, my records showing how rarely I called Kole. His records would be pulled to show the same and actually that it was him always calling. We’d submitted the request for them as part of the lawsuit to verify mine.

And that’s what this fucker “comedian” was focused on?

I snorted and sighed. “I’m fine, just annoyed the station is allowing this. There wasn’t one joke in there and his audience keeps getting upset at how far he goes.” I snorted again. “Honestly, it’s great PR for me even if annoying.”

Joris kissed my neck. “It’s showing how people will get upset, especially since the comedy shows have more liberal audiences. So he’s making it clear—yeah, but it sucks. I hates him.”

Something really was going on with him besides clearly he had had a few drinks. I kissed his hair and played with it as we kept watching, something he really liked from the way he chuffed.

“Want to know a secret?” I asked when the clips were all over.

“Always.”

I pressed my lips to his ear and told him something so fun that I was saving for later that it would floor people.

Joris slowly raised his head and blinked at me like he was equal parts shocked and impressed with what I was up to. Then he laughed and laughed.

And we had a really good time making both of our moods better.

11

Benson

I was so exhausted that my exhaustion was exhausted. So exhausted that there needed to be a whole new term that covered more than exhausted.

Seriously, it was that bad.

I spent my whole day going and collecting King Rhys and Queen Amelia’s aides and advisors who had stolen from Sagan after her fucking parents died. A few of the staff that had quit, but there were two that had stayed and had stolen from her in the chaos.

The balls on people was not only astounding, but grotesque at times.

All of the fucking paperwork alone to make that all happen had taken me several nights. I had the authority as the head of the Queen’s Guard to order any arrest we had cause for and have them extradited to the capital where the queen was in charge.

But it wasn’t like I just picked up the phone to do that. Oh no, there was a process—justified so no one could abuse it, but a fucking process. Which was rarely ever used, so good there were checks and balances, but when I had to put over two dozen requests in—yes, I wanted to claw my eyes out.

And those people for stealing from Sagan. There was no pain deep enough for them. I was also annoyed that so many snakeswere around the king and queen and they hadn’t done better. Seriously.

I was seeing more and more how often they had handicapped me from doing my job more than just blaming myself for not being ready.

Princess Treena’s head of security, Davian, was amazing in that realization. He was part trainer and therapist. The trainer part was him saying how they did things in Bodach and realizing it was something I had wanted or suggested. At least sixty percent of the changes we were making I had not just wanted but had proposed.

And it was standard in Bodach, but King Rhys had shut me down.

The therapist part was him listening about how badly that upset me. I’d tried my best, and the fact they were gone because of neglect and corruption under my nose—I would never get over that guilt.

The guilt of what the elders had pulled on Sagan and she’d suffered because of it. I would never recover from that.