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“Did someone think of calling a plumber?” I ask, barely hiding my sarcasm.
Jacques bristles. “Of course, my lord! The leak has been repaired, but this eighteenth-century imitation marble paint is a whole different story.”
“An expert from Pombrio will be here tomorrow to begin restoration work,” Serafina adds.
That’s châteaus for you, eh!In my Lisbon penthouse, if I have a leak, Angie calls a plumber, and an hour or two later, it’s as good as new. But things are never that simple when your home is listed as a historic monument.
I run up another flight of stairs and head to Grandpa’s office. Back in April, the duke turned ninety, and I turned thirty. Our birthdays being only a week apart, we celebrated together, here in Falcon’s Nest. Half of Mount Evor was present, including most of the nobility, all the celebs, and the press. My royal relatives, including the Reigning Prince Richard, were in attendance, too. The duke made a weird toast at one point, hinting at some wrongs that he’d need to see righted if he hoped to join his parents in heaven. He never elaborated on it, not even when Prince Richard was visibly intrigued and asked about it.
If he’s well and this convocation isn’t about him feeling that his time among the living is running out, then maybe he’ll tell us about that mysterious “wrong.” My bet is on something to do with my late grandmother. He probably cheated on her, and like Benny, he’d had a natural child with a foreign commoner. And he’s now ready to bring that child into the limelight as my surprise aunt or uncle.
I reach the heavy oak door to his favorite salon and knock.
“Let him in,” Grandpa calls.
His valet Tate opens the door for me.
Unlike Jacques and Serafina, Grandpa doesn’t seem to have changed at all over the last seven months. That being said, he was ancient to begin with. We were never very close, what with him being such a distinguished, powerful figure as one of the principality’s eight dukes and duchesses and second in rank only to the princely ones. But I know he loves me in his own way. He’s grateful I haven’t disappointed him like my father did.
I give his frail frame a gentle hug and sit down next to him. He waves everyone else out.
“I’m going to abdicate in your favor,” he says the moment Tate pulls the door shut behind him.
“Beg your pardon?”I must’ve misheard.
“I’ll announce it to your parents at dinner,” he says. “I’m abdicating my title and bequeathing the estate, castle and assets directly to you, skipping Hubert.”
“You can’t do that, Grandpa. Father is your heir apparent.”
“Of course, I can.” He shifts, angling his torso toward me. “In fact, I already have.”
My head jerks back involuntarily. “What do you mean?”
“My notary and lawyers prepared the paperwork, and I signed it.” His mouth paints a wry smile. “They also arranged for medical experts to certify that I am not senile. It’s all very formal and as valid as it can be.”
I move my chair so that we’re face-to-face. “The news would make Father’s bad habits worse.”
“Louis.” Grandpa’s face tightens with contempt. “Hubert’s bad habits have grown so bad that there’s no more room left for worse.”
We stare at each other in silence for a while as I try to wrap my mind around his announcement, and its implications.
“But my diplomatic service—”
“Will continue for as long as you, Prince Richard, and the prime minister deem it necessary,” he cuts in. “But you’ll move from Lisbon to Paris.”
“As Mount Evor’s emissary to France?!”
That embassy is the Holy Grail for any diplomat on this planet, but for Mount Evor’s emissaries, it’s a triple prize. First, because we depend on France for our defense. Second, because our main agency for influence and intervention—our soft power hub called MINDFUCH—is located in Paris. Its director reports to the emissary to France, who becomes the de facto head of MINDFUCH.
And third, it’s freaking Paris!Granted, the French capital has lost its luster of late. Then again, can it be otherwise, after decades of the regicidal Left in charge?
“Prince Richard confirmed this morning your appointment as Mount Evor’s emissary to France,” Grandpa says.
“I’m humbled and honored.”Scratch that, I’m stoked.“It’s just all very unexpected, you know? A lot to process.”
“If you say yes, I will live out my remaining time in peace and write my memoir, knowing that the dukedom, the duchy of Arrago, and our embassy in France are in capable hands.”
How can I say no to that?I’m going to say yes, of course, and he probably already knows it. I bet he can see it in my eyes.
