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“Wait, stop! Please.”
“Joey, don’t get involved in this!” Khaki-pants waves off his friend. “You don’t know shit about anything besides soil quality.”
“Stop agitating her! If she’s the owner of the neighboring ranch, it’s in our best interests to placate her.”
“Listen to your buddy if you know what’s best for you,” I warn. “You’d be surprised if you knew all the things I could do when I’m pissed off.”
Joey pinches his nose. “Oh, God, she’s going to kill us –”
Suddenly, we’re interrupted by a black mustang charging toward us. Joey and the other ranch hand try to calm the horse, but Joey nearly gets toppled over. The taller one keeps his distance so as to not dirty his clean polo shirt.
“What the hell! How did it get out?”
“I don’t know!” Joey exclaims. “This is an expensive horse, Donovan! We can’t let it escape!”
“Grab its damn reins, then!”
“I can’t…”
“My goodness, this is a pathetic sight.” I rest a hand on my hip as I watch the two buffoons try to wrangle the wild horse. Slinging my rifle strap over my shoulder, I make my way over. “Who let these damn rich boys on a ranch in the first place?”
The horse kicks up on his hind legs, making the men scream as they scramble backward. Instead of agitating it more, I approach slowly and offer my hand.
“Easy, boy, easy,” I say, allowing the horse to see me. “He’s probably scared out of his mind to see a bunch of men acting so foolish.”
“Hey, screw you, girlie,” Donovan says. I’m ignoring him.
The horse takes a few minutes to calm down, and once he does, he allows me to saddle him and direct his movements. I tip my hat to the gentlemen, who have since dirtied their fine outfits.
“See you around!” I wave. “Looks like y’all are the ones who can’t handle a ranch if you can’t handle a horse!”
I wish I could see the looks on their faces. It warms my heart to see a man eat his words.
3
ALEXIS
“Don’t worry about me.”
That was one of the last things I said to my mother, Janice. That was just before I set off on my trip to Texas when she bade me farewell at the airport.
She’s always been protective of me, especially after the death of my father, Prince Ronaldi.
‘Protective’ is a nice word for it. ‘Overbearing’ is more accurate. ‘Scheming’ is not uncommon when her name comes up.
“Of course, I worry, Alex. You're my baby.” She kissed me on the cheek twice, the custom. “And don't be gone too long. I can't bear being without you.”
She can't bear not having my pull at court.
She’s fancied herself a queen in all but name since the death of Queen Amaranta, mother of Christian, Caesar, Ishmael, and Cedrick a little before my teenage years.
Genuinely, I have her to thank for my status as a de facto son of the King. She is the one who ensured I lived in the King’s apartments after my father died. Because of her, I became one of the brothers. But as a mother, there was always something lacking.
I should have already been here long before now, but life gets in the way sometimes, and my mother had all sorts of things she needed me to do that cropped up. I left all of her affairs in order back in Solvaria before disembarking.
And the vast majority of mine.
At the very least, the delay gave me more time to prepare for my mission, not that my mother is aware of that.
