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“As long as you don’t murder Madeline, we’re understood.”
* * *
Princess Mary’s blue eyes ice over with irritation. She’s folded her arms over and sulks on the bottom step of her home. Our eyes are a hard match as I silently warn my mother.
“Hello, son.” Her chin juts as she hugs me. “Your poor Grandmother Sarah is waiting for you. Graham is also here.” She mentions my brother and then mumbles, “It seems each of my sons has returned to me with their trash today. Your father might as well, too.”
I stop her as she tries to hook her arm in mine.
Luxury is only a yard away. Her faint hello is dismissed, carried away by the wind.
“Did you hear my fiancée’s greeting? I will require the same respect to Luxury as she is an extension of me.”
“Nonsense.That”Mary’s glare drags up and down Lux, “and this ludicrous marriage proposal is the reason my mother had a heart attack.” She turns away and walks into her home.
Negative. Sarah learned of our engagement the following day.“You are sorely mistaken, Mum. Luxury is the reason I am on speaking terms with you.”
As my mother falls to the floor, I stare in contempt. A bloody servant saves her from any real pain at the very last second.
“Puthersomewhere,” I order, returning my attention to Luxury. It seems she’s in her own little world. Even if she’s disregarded the princess’s words or didn’t hear them, my mother is in a shite load of trouble.
“We just have to get to dinner. Anyone who harmed you will pay,” I whisper.
“I’m fine,” Luxury assures.
“Oh, the dramatics,” Graham says, stepping into the foyer, wearing a checkered sweater and khaki shorts. “I imagine Mother ceasing her favorite pastime only if she actually awakens on the floor.”
“Almost succeeded. Perhaps she will make another attempt.” I stalk past my little brother as he cheerfully meanders to Luxury and swoops down to embrace her.
Once complete, I step to my woman’s side, and she’s whispering for me to spend time with my brother. If she believes the opposite is not the norm, she’s sorely mistaken.
But I stay to catch up with Graham as he follows the servant carrying our unconscious mother down the long corridor.
As if we were deep in conversation, my brother gloats, “I just realized you and I are one and the same these days, apart from your bank account. So, the money allows you to cover up our disassociation with the Queen.”
I snort, strolling at his side. “I prefer democracy.”
“I’m inclined to agree. What sort of grandmum isHer Majesty? I'd rather be a luckybloke, a mere commoner, not wedged somewhere in between.”
“All right, as you wish, be a commoner. I'll discontinue your monthly allowance.”
“That's not . . . I hadn't implied . . .” Graham sputters, backing into our mother’s quarters and holding the door open.
“Well, glad to see my sons are vested in my best interest.” Mother spews cynicism as she’s held in the servant’s arms.
“Good. You’re awake,” I say, turning my wrath to its original perpetrator. While she’s made comfortable in her bed, I glare and point. “Yes, your best interest is to treat Luxury with respect or never see me again. That means forfeiting any chance that you have to see your grandchildren.”
“Is she . . .” The back of Princess Mary’s slender hand goes to her temple. I grab her wrists and bring her eye level before she decides that the pillow is a great spot to faint against.
“Stop it. There's nothing the matter with you, Mother. Shite! I vowed never to refer to you asthat.” I shake her. Maybe the psychosis will exit her body with a few jolts.
Graham shouts, “Bravo! We’re all hoi polloi!”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” I point a finger at my younger brother, and he flinches. Then my glare pinpoints my original and most obnoxious target. “Do you understand?”
“Unhand me this instant! You truly are your father’s son.Beastly—”
The door slams, drowning out the rest of Mary's threats courtesy of Graham. I stalk down the hall as fast as I can.
