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Declan was instantly irked by the sight of a man he once trusted with his life. He forced a smile, then raised his eyebrows in a feigned gesture of goodwill.
“May I come in, Phillip? I wanted to discuss something with you privately.”
The dumb grin on his friend’s face disappeared like he had been slapped. It took all of Declan’s self-control not to indulge in the fantasy.
“Why, yes, of course. I just put on some coffee.”
“I won’t be here long.”
Phillip’s greeting was far too charming for a man who knew the royal family intimately. How many times had Declan actually been inside his friend’s home? Perhaps once, and that was nearly decades ago. He rarely ventured out without his enforcers, and he never went anywhere alone.
Phillip was already playing dumb with him, which solidified a few of the king’s unfortunate theories.
Before they had a chance to chitchat, Declan began his interrogation. Phillip had gone for the coffee pot while Declan stood just within the threshold of the kitchen.
“How long have we been friends, Phillip?”
Phillip had his back turned, pouring the hot liquid, which didn’t bode well for Declan’s fear of retaliation. He kept a fair distance in case he tried to use the hot liquid against him.
“Hmm, let me think. Nearly two decades now, maybe more, I suppose?”
Declan waited for Phillip to turn around. Though Declan could read him like a book, he wanted to see the look of horror in his friend’s eyes while his own burned like the hazy sun.
He gritted his teeth, anchoring himself to the moment, and secured his feet to the ground. He saw red, but he was still.
“And how long have you been after my woman?”
Phillip was about to take a sip of his coffee when he froze, eyes sliding up to Declan’s like a cat gazing up at its master. He was quick to speak, but it may as well have been gibberish.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play fucking stupid with me,” Declan growled, his voice shaking. “Taryn told me everything. How you came onto her last night. How you have been harassing her at the store. I know it was you who sent the fucking notes. Just fess up, and you’ll avoid a lot of pain.”
A smug grin grew on Phillip’s face like the upturned lips of a clown. For a moment, Declan didn’t know who he was speaking to. His good friend had donned a mask mid-sentence.
“You can’t be serious, My King?”
“Don’t,My Kingme!” Declan’s voice thundered through the estate, shaking the cutlery and glassware that hung around them. He had taken a step forward without realizing it, as if he was ready to leap onto his friend and crush his head like a watermelon.
Phillip blinked, seemingly unperturbed, but placed his coffee mug down all the same and took a brave step toward the king. Declan felt like he could slice the man’s head off with a single blow.
His voice was soft, almost gentle, yet condescending at the same time.
“Declan, I’m sorry, but you have to trust me. I had nothing to do with those notes. And as far as Taryn goes …”
Phillip’s eyes slid away from Declan’s, and he began to nibble nervously on his lower lip. It was a trait from when they were children and as revealing as a neon sign.
“… she’s a beautiful, enchanting woman. But I would never get in the way of My King’s beloved. Please, take this as my solemn apology.”
Phillip placed both palms on his chest and bent forward in a half-assed bow. The apology felt plastic and phony. Even if he was begging for his forgiveness on his hands and knees, Declan still wouldn’t have forgiven him. All trust was lost, and there was no going back.
But the lack of theatrics almost offended him more.
“Keep your fucking apology,” Declan snarled, spinning around to head for the front door. “You are hereby banished from the palace on the king’s orders. I never want to see your face again.”
For a split second, Declan saw the young boy with whom he had grown up flickering in Phillip’s eyes.
It gave him pause, but then Declan remembered the look on Taryn’s face when she had described what Phillip had done to her.
