Page 47 of Bound

“We have not the adequate numbers,” Samsyn declared. “You know this, Majesty.” With his respectful nod and the deliberate use of the title, he numbed some of the rebuke’s sting. “The battalions at Saqique and Minos, as well as the more remote banks of the Mousselyn and into Sauvage, have been downsized and redistributed. There has simply been no need for lots of personnel in those regions.”

Evrest paid back the deferential nod, murmuring, “Of course. And that will probably still hold true for the more secluded villages, so we shall focus on the probable access points along the coast.”

Shiraz nodded. “Wise.”

“Wise but not infallible,” Samsyn inserted. “Even if I beef up the coastal watches with the citizens’ guard and some of my sharper training recruits, they will be like clumps of farmers with pitchforks compared to the French operatives on loan to that clown.”

“That pathologically lying clown.” Jayd yanked off every ribbon of propriety between her voice and the words, once more convincing Brick that she had to be more enchanted elf than actual human, while balling her hands by her sides. “Except for the one truth he swore he would stay silent about. Damn it.”

She rattled the floorboards with her furious stomp, but Emme braved the tremors to step over and cup her princess’s shoulder. “Anger is just another way of letting him win, Highness.”

“Highness?” she flung. “You just watched and heard what I did, yes? You know that means I am no longer Your Highness, right?” She circled her stare around. “That I should no longer even be living here—”

Evrest swooped up a hand. “A matter we are going to shelve for later, fembla. You are still my little sister, even if by half. And at the moment, I claim dominion over the half that agrees to obey me.”

Brick should’ve anticipated what her retort of a pout would do to everything inside him. The look was doubly devastating because she only meant it by half. In the thorough thrust of her beguiling lips, she was fighting Evrest tooth and nail. But in the depths of her gorgeous aquas, she was still adoring him. No. Beyond that. There was a bond there, between the princess and her king, that went beyond their mutual affection and trust. A union that Brick would never know but always be fascinated by.

“All right, all right,” Jayd groused. “I shall follow your lead, Majesty.”

Evrest’s exhalation was a different sound, though relatable in more ways. Brick wasn’t going to crow about the unique thrill of bending the Cimarron princess, having already done it in vastly separate circumstances, but he indulged a silent fist bump with the guy.

“Merderim mahaleur, sister,” the man offered with gruff sincerity.

“You are welcome, brother.” She relaxed her stance, rocking back on one foot. “I really do trust you, after all.”

Evrest pulled her into a gentle hug. “For which I am grateful.”

She broke their embrace first, seeming impatient. She worked the balls of her feet now, softly bouncing up and down. “So, I am at your service.” She turned, including Samsyn and Shiraz in her sweet enthusiasm. “Where can I help the most? I imagine there will be a central command set up as soon as possible. Does it make sense to have it downstairs near the commissary, where we set up storm shelters and community events? But if I can lend better insight out on patrol with Syn or Jagger—”

“No.”

Their objection, in the same triplicate of violent baritones, was no surprise to Brick. Regrettably, it was to Jayd, who didn’t see the urgent protectiveness that had manifested as clueless testosterone.

“No…what?” she asked, blinking as if they were part of an optical illusion that she’d unravel any second. “You do not want me out in the field? That is fine. Emme and I shall coordinate support for the command center with Camellia and Lucy. I assume you will be needing Brooke with one of your units, Syn? Though perhaps Cam would feel safer watching the child care center, close to Leo and the other childr—”

“Fembla.” Samsyn, who’d apparently drawn the short straw on talking to his sister this time, grabbed Jayd’s hands in his. “Heed the Creator’s wisdom and listen to us this time.”

She crunched a full frown. “I am. And I understand if you do not want me outside—”

“Of this suite.”

So much for the short straw. Clearly, Samsyn had been picked this duty because of his talent for getting to a point like an Olympic high diver. Minimal splash. Nonexistent tact.

Jayd tilted her head so fast, she was almost kittenish. With the splayed claws to match. “Excuse. Me?”

“Desonnum, sister. But—”

“The hell you are sorry,” she snapped. “And the hell you are going to start trilling about how it is for my own good—”

Samsyn dropped his grip and folded his arms. “I do not have time to trill right now, little one. There will be no argument. This is for your vital protection.”

“Ohhh, no.” She balled her fists, turning the kitten into a lioness. “Dare you not, brother. Dare you not with your stupid nobility about this!”

“Damn it, Jayd.” It was Shiraz’s first fierce burst of this encounter, and he came out with figurative guns blazing. “Nobility has nothing to do with this.”

Jayd straightened and nodded. “And finally someone with the testicles to say it.”

“That does not make Syn wrong.” The guy nodded with firm finality. If Lisbeth Salander had been a dude, Brick imagined he’d look and act like ’Raz Cimarron. He’d even bet his left nut that the dark and restrained prince was hiding some illicit tattoos and piercings. “As the man himself has stated, Trystan is launching this campaign with several goals in mind. But let us be obvious, if not completely clear. Even if every other box on his list was soundly filled in, the bonsun would still burn this place down to get to you.”