Page 73 of Wicked Queen

It was moments like that which reminded me he was Alexander’s brother. Neither of them could see the similarities they shared. Because the one they both had in problematic quantities was stubbornness.

“Options.” I kept my answers simple and to the point not wanting to give him more to work with. He’d spun an entire imagined romance out of a few conversations.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Anders asked in a soft voice, stopping in the hall and forcing me to do the same. “Edward will act like we can all be one big happy family and Alexander will treat me like something stuck to the bottom of his shoe?”

He paced closer and paused, lowering his voice. “And you acting like a robot because you can’t admit the truth?”

“What truth? Anders, I can’t tell you how you feel but I can tell you how I feel.”

“Then admit it. Admit you feel something.” His hand reached out to brush my shoulder, but I pivoted away from him.

“I care about you as a friend.” How did we keep finding our way back here?

“Because he has you confused. You’re so caught up in pleasing him that you don’t know what’s real,” he said harshly.

“I have no problem with reality. We’re intimately acquainted. While you were holed up drinking whiskey in SoHo, I was here coming up with a strategy to help you as was Alexander.” I kept my voice low. We were only a few steps from Alexander’s office now and I wasn’t sure if he could hear us.

Anders showed no interest in self-preservation. “Am I supposed to be grateful? He dragged me into this.”

“Neither of you are to blame for your DNA,” I stopped him. “There’s only one person alive that you can pin that on, so go talk to her if you want to yell at someone.”

“Don’t drag my mother into this,” he warned me. “She raised me.”

“With Albert’s financial help.” I held up my palm before he could blow his top at this perceived snub. “I don’t think you owe any of us anything. We only want to help you adjust.”

“To what?” Anders laughed at me and I felt the familiar urge to slap him. It was a sensation his brother had inspired more than few times as well. “Nothing’s going to change for me. I’m just the latest in whatever cock-and bull scandal your lot is handling this week.”

“You’re wrong.” I shook my head, feeling slightly sad for him but mostly annoyed. I’d once thought the press would have no interest in me either. Even during Alexander and I’s brief periods apart, they’d hounded me and dissected my every movement.

Once a Royal, forever a Royal.

“I’m afraid my wife is right,” Alexander called from the doorway. I didn’t miss how much emphasis he placed on ‘my wife.’

“Boys let’s behave,” I suggested as I passed them both and stepped through the door.

They followed me sullenly through the door, taking opposites chairs from one another and then studiously avoiding looking in the other’s direction. This was going to be one long meeting.

“I ordered tea,” Edward said brightly. “I wasn’t sure how you take it, so they brought up the lot.” He held out a cup and saucer to Anders who leaned over to take them with some hesitation.

“I’m not particular. We didn’t have anything fancy growing up.” Anders didn’t add anything to the black tea.

Edward’s smile grew forced as he added milk and sugar to his.

“You could have had fancy tea with the money our father sent,” Alexander said. He’d spread himself in his chair, taking up all available space as if to send the message that the chair also belonged to him. I was going to have to step in if they started marking their territories in more alarming fashions.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” I asked, unwilling to play this game with them. “We agreed to meet and decide what to do together. Anders, we aren’t going to tell you how to handle this, but we are going to offer advice and resources if you’ll take them—and you’re a wanker if you don’t. Alexander, we’re all aware of your standing in this room, in this family, and in this country, so stop posturing. Edward, I’ll take some tea.”

He poured me some out of a second pot made with an herbal blend, his lips twitching at the tongue lashing I’d just given his brothers.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully passing it to me after adding extra sugar, “I’m not the youngest anymore.”

I raised an eyebrow, bringing the tea cup to my lips. “No, you aren’t.”

“But he’s hardly the baby of the family.”

“I’m not what?” Anders seemed to be tracking the conversation’s turns with difficulty.

“You’ll get used to them. They pretty much speak their own language,” Alexander said. “I suppose I’ll get my own tea.”