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When he reached me, he skipped the handshake and the diplomacy and gave me a bear hug.
I was ready for it, so I gripped him tightly and gave him a hard pat on the back. “I’ll provide a step stool for you next time.”
Ian laughed as he shoved me off him. “Good. I’ll shove it up your ass.” He turned to Ivory next, and the hug he gave her was far gentler, and it was accompanied by a quick kiss on the temple. “Long time, no see.”
“How’s your family?”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Ian turned back to me. “Let’s speak in private.”
“That’s not a good sign.”
He gave a nod toward the castle so we could depart.
Ivory moved to Pyre, stroking his nose as they brought their heads close together. Decades had passed, but their connection had remained as strong as ever.
Ian and I returned to the castle and walked down the hallway to my study.
“How’s Mother?” I asked.
“Immortal.”
I chuckled. “Not slowing down?”
“I’m starting to think she’ll never slow down. Her mind is still sharp as a tack.”
“You’ll probably die before her and never be King of HeartHolme.”
He smirked. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
We entered my study and shut the door. Ian helped himself to the decanter on my desk and poured himself a glass. He dropped his heavy coat and tossed it over an empty chair before he tugged off his gloves. “How are things in Delacroix and the Kingdoms?”
“Lots of parties and bullshit.”
He dropped into the chair with his glass, that smirk still there. “You need to learn how to have fun.”
“Talking to ass-kissers isn’t my idea of fun.” I took a drink.
He shook his head. “Good thing you have Ivory.”
She did all the talking, and I just stood there. My only concern was the safety of my people. Everything else seemed unimportant.
“How are the little ones?”
“Little ones?” I asked. “Atticus is a man, and Harlow… She’s not little anymore.” It pained me to say it, to step into this new stage of my children’s lives. They had been such a handful when they were little, keeping me up all night and dependent on me for every little thing, but now, I’d give anything to go back to those early days.
“Long nights, short years.” He took a drink. “Mother was right.”
“Harlow had an…incident.” I hadn’t even discussed this with Ivory because it was hard to speak about it.
“What kind of incident?”
“You remember Ethan?”
“The artist, right?”
